The Brute, the Thief, and the Awkward (Skyrim Fanfiction)

The Oaf that could

Tirdas, First seed, 3rd, 4E 200

9:48am

The sun's rays burned as they seemed to slither their way into the smallest of openings in Neyya's tent.

Nooooo... She thought. I don't wanna get up...

She really had no intention of getting up. Her fur coat smelled of mead and her breath was worse. She may as well have lie there and wallow in her own musk, had she not been alerted by a sudden loud, deep chuckle that erupted from outside her tent. Within seconds she was out the tent, bow drawn and aimed at the source of the noise. It may have well been dead, had it not been for:

"NEYYA, STOP!" Her friend's shriek rang her ears and shook her body. She misfired, and the arrow shot straight upward. Within mere moments, a pheasant fell from the sky and landed in an empty cooking pot, arrow in its neck. She looked at the source of the chuckle, and was shocked to see an enormous orc.

He was holding up a sign.

It read "10/10".

"Maka... Who is this?"

"This is Ragnarok." The giant put on a goofy grin and outstretched his hand.

His arm is as long as... Me... Neyya courteously smiled, and shook his great hand.

"He will be traveling with us for a little while." Daro'maka asserted, and gave Neyya a glare, though she wasn't exactly convinced yet.

"Kitty-lady very nice. She give Ragnarok a swee... Sweeeee..."

"A sweetroll, Ragnarok."

"Yes, a sweetroll, and... and..." Ragnarok paused. He seemed to be questioning himself, as if his next statement required absolutely no doubt whatsoever. "And Ragnarok swore to protect Kitty-lady with his life."

Daro'maka began to tear up, then quickly rub it away and looked to Neyya intently. Neyya only stared blankly at the orc, who looked like he had made the most confident decision of his life.

"Maka... I'd just like to speak to you in private, for one moment." With a nod, they both stepped several meters off into the brush.

"Before you start, you must kno-"

"No." Neyya cut Daro'maka off before she could explain. "I can see it, clear as day. Someone abandoned him. I just want to know what he's told you."

"Khajiit has not asked." Daro'maka let off a sigh of relief. "What are you thinking?"

"I haven't decided. If it was family, they must've had a stellar reason for doing so, because I don't think his mental state alone would do it, regardless of orcish standards. I say we let him stay, learn what he knows, figure out the reason why, and decide then."

Daro'maka didn't like the idea of leaving him, period. She didn't like that her friend's plan involved the chance of leaving him. But in all honesty, it was probably the best course of action. She only need proof that Ragnarok was more help than burden to sway Neyya.

The two returned to the orc, who was on his knees, and offered the pheasant Neyya killed earlier.

"No more stew... So Ragnarok cook bird for you. Please, let Ragnarok stay!"

Neyya examined they plate in front of her. She had to admit, the plate looked delectable. Fried rabbit haunch, jazbay grapes, and grilled pheasant breast smothered in a thick snowberry sauce. It was hard to look tough with a glob of drool forming at the side of her mouth. Neyya sat down on the log and ever so slowly..... Tore the entirety of the meal up and sent it down to her very own plane of oblivion.

"How does Neyya like it?" Ragnarok asked, very shyly sporting rosy cheeks.

Neyya arose from her meal, face noticeably green. She swallowed hard on the food in her mouth and mustered all her energy to force a smile.

"The taste is so... New. I've never had anything like it."

"Yay! Ney-ney likes Ragnarok's cooking! Ragnarok make more foo-"

"NO!" The other two looked at Neyya in confusion. "I... Umm... I'm just so full... I couldn't eat another bite..." Daro'maka received the message in full. Ragnarok, on the other hand, took pride in filling Neyya with food he made... With his own two hands!

"Ragnarok, dear, care to help me pack up camp?" Daro'maka called.

"Yes ma'am!" With Ragnarok distracted, Neyya was able to regurgitate the 'meal' and chug some mead. Greaaaat... She thought. An orc cook... Where have I heard that one before?

On that note, Neyya got up, and helped the others pack, as they would soon trek to Markarth.