• Published 3rd Mar 2016
  • 1,188 Views, 52 Comments

Redguard Delicious: Housecarl to the Appleborn - shortskirtsandexplosions



Applejack and a misfit Redguard make their home in Whiterun, trying to get by.

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The Bannered Mare

"The security in Whiterun is terrible," the man beside me belched. The crackling air of the tavern suddenly smelled of Black-Briar mead and half-digested potatoes. "Shameful is what it is."

I stood with my hands stretched before the fire. The mountain frost clinging to my tunic had nearly melted away. The warmth was almost starting to remind me of home... when his slurring words and unwashed funk jarred me from the moment. I rubbed my hands together, turning to blink at the lumbering oaf to my right. "What are you on about, exactly?"

"Commander Caius," Sinmir snorted. Moisture clung to his blond beard like icicles. A pair of beady eyes peered out from beneath a stupidly horned helmet. "Hmphf. Walks around Dragonsreach like a preening rooster."

I shrugged, rubbing my arms beneath a scraggy gray tunic. "Seems to be doing an okay job to me." My ears tickled from the claustrophobic bedlam of patrons chatting, coughing, and murmuring across rustic confines of the Bannered Mare Mikael's flatulating flute brought unnecessary harmony to the dull moment. "The Jarl trusts him, and it's safer here than in the Reach. At least... erm..." I rubbed a hand over my short black hair. "That's what I've been told."

He snorted again, lifting a mug of mead to his mouth. "I could do his job blindfolded."

My eyebrow rose to the ceiling. "Oh really?"

"Aye." He rubbed his chin dry, gazing into the flames before us. "Bashed in plenty of bandit skulls back in my day. Still got some unkindled flame flickering inside of me, by Talos."

My brow furrowed. "Then why don't you go out there and... I don't know... pursue any of the multiple bounties that are available? I swear, you can't swing a dead Khajiit without someone wanting someone else dead in this crazy frozen freak show of a kingdom."

"Bah!" His helmet rattled, as did his tongue. "I'd turn the White River red with blood! I don't think this Hold is ready for me to unleash my hidden fury! Or all of Skyrim for that matter!"

I tilted my head to the side. "You're not even a Companion, though."

"Hmmmf!" At this point, Sinmir turned towards me, his biceps flexing in the firelight. "At least I'm not some pigeon-toe'd excuse of a redguard like you, impish trollop!"

I leaned back. "Look, I was just making an observation!" My cheeks turned darker as I frowned. "And I'm not pigeon-toe'd!" After an exhale, I fidgeted, then awkwardly tilted my boots to face outward again. "Ahem... and I'll have you know that I've smashed the skulls of plenty of bandits myself!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Recently, as a matter of fact!"

Sinmir glared over my shoulder at the shadowed corners of the tavern. "I thought you were nothing more than a homeless barfly in this Aedra-forsaken dump."

I pointed. "You can't be a 'barfly' if you don't drink. And as for the 'homeless' part... I... uhm... I pay for my room here just fine." Clearing my throat, I folded my arms and spoke firmly. "And I happen to knock out plenty of bounties on the side!" I tried to keep my voice from cracking; I failed.

"How's that even possible?" Sinmir slurred, looking my narrow figure over. "You're like... four foot nothing! What do you hit the bandits with? Your septim purse?"

"No, for your information, I have a staff."

"Bwahahaha!" The Nord reeled so hard he nearly bellowed his breastplate off. "You mean you don't even have a curved sword?! What kind of a redguard are you?!"

A few patrons glanced over at the loud outburst. I heard Ulfberth War-Bear's offish grunt from the back room. Uthgerd the Unbroken rolled her eyes and returned to her drink and misery.

I bit my lip. "Erm..."

"A staff!" Sinmir trumpeted. "Oh please! Perhaps you should have taken a right at Cyrodiil and gone to Valenwood instead! Then you would have fit right in! Hah!"

I hugged myself and looked aside. "The thought... has occurred to me."

"If you're a vanquisher of bandits, then I'm Malacath incarnate!"

"Look." I gestured. "I never said I hunted bounties alone."

"Oh really?"

"That's right." I nodded. "It's a new century, after all. Skyrim's changing. If the rift between the Stormcloaks and the Imperials is anything to go by, then I'd say things are done these days in numbers. It was like that back in Hammerfell." I shrugged, exhaling. "And it's sure as Oblivion like that here! I guess you could call me something of... an advanced socialite! Yeah! That's it!"

"Oooooh..." The drunken Nord merely leered. "So the lady from Hammerfell has a husband to do the dirty work for her! Is it Amren? I heard the poor bastard's in need of a new spouse, from the sound of things!"

"No. As a matter of fact, it's not a man." I found the power to smirk. "But a magnificent beast."

"Eh?" He leaned back, helmet rattling. "You mean some... Argonian or Khajiit?"

"Even better." I grinned. "I speak of a warhorse... a mighty steed of epic proportion!"

"A horse, hmmm?" The man stroked his moldy beard. "I doubt such a creature could make its way up the steps of Labyrinthian."

"Shows how much you know!" I clenched both fists and stood on my toes, practically snarling. "I'm telling you, my best friend's faithful... strong... honest... ferocious—"

"Whew-doggy! Hey Red!" The doors to the Bannered Mare opened and a... fuzzy orange thing galloped under the legs of several confused patrons. At last, Applejack skidded to a stop beside the fire, clasping a stem of purple flowers in her mouth. "Look at what I found, Red! Up in the Wind District! Ptooie!" She spat the material onto the tavern floor by my boots and looked straight up, smiling proud. "Lavender! Yer favorite! Yee-ha! Ain't that just dandy?!"

"... ... ..." I exhaled. "And she wears a hat."

"Darn tootin'!" Applejack winked, adjusting the brim in question as her freckles glistened before the flames. "And I'm mighty proud to still be sportin' it after all these long trots in the blistery winds! Whew-wee! Like a herd of windigoes be partyin' all across this here land, I'm tellin' ya."

The stuffy air hung in silence. Even Mikael paused in blowing his raspy flute. All eyes fell on the pony, and Sinmir's were the largest.

"What... what kind of sorcery is this...?!" he stammered.

"The adorable kind, I assure you," I said. "But mind your tongue. The two of us make for brave, fearsome warriors."

"Eeyup!" Applejack nodded. "What she said! Roughest, toughest pair of flank-kickers in the land!" She leaned in and rubbed my leg like a feline. "Pssst. Hey, Red! The flowers..."

I gulped. Kneeling, I scooped the fragrant petals up and stuck them in my pocket. "Thank you, AJ," I murmured in a distant voice.

"Squee!"

"By Kynareth's breath!" I turned to see Danica Pure-Spring standing behind us, wide eyes peering from beneath her hood. "I thought it was simply fatigue and my imagination fooling me, but there she stands!" She pointed. "The talking pony of Whiterun!"

"Pony?!" Sinmir hiccuped. "She's the size of a skeever!"

"Hey! You take that back!" Applejack frowned, stomping her hoof. "I ain't no skeever!" A blink, and she leaned towards me again. "Say Red, what's a skeever?"

"A really, really big rat."

"Oh buck, no!" Applejack barked, which I found horribly appropriate. "Y'all take that back, ya hear?!"

"And just who is going to make me?" Sinmir smiled—until he could smile no more, for the Nord was far too busy collapsing on the floor and clutching his bruised ankle. "Aaaaaugh! Oblivion's blazes, that stings!"

"You can say that again!" Applejack grunted, swiveling her rear hooves after performing the massive buck. "Serves ya right for doubtin' my friend and me! Why, ever since Red Delicious and I came here, we've been makin' mean folks pay for all the dirty deeds they done in and around this here Whinny Run."

"AJ..." I facepalmed with a sigh. "Fuzzball... How many times do I have to correct you...?"

"Errr... my bad..." The horse snickered.

Saadia wandered by, carrying a tray full of street rolls. "Please, no horse-kicking the guests," she slurred behind my ears.

I knew better than to disobey the words of a fellow redguard. "Erm... yes ma'am."

"I heard that the bandits holed up in the Silent Moons Camp were forced to run for the hills," Mikael remarked, switching his flute for a lyre. "Please. Do humor this humble bard. Was it the two of you who did it?"

"Eheh..." I waved a hand over the fire. "Seriously. It's not a story worth telling—"

"My shiny orange flank, it isn't!" Applejack hopped up onto a bench, knocking Brenuin to the floor and into a puddle of his own Argonian ale. "There we both was! Two companions against a whole heapin' load of bandits!"

"AJ..." I groaned.

"They thought they had us outnumbered!" The little pony grinned from ear to ear. "Boy were they itchin' for a trip to the woodshed! Whew! Tell ya what!"

"And how did you decimate this encampment?" Uthgerd asked in her deep voice. The ex-Companion suddenly stood behind us with her mug. "A superior battle strategy?"

"Gah!" I jolted to the side.

"Funny you should ask that!" Applejack tilted her head up... up. "Whoa nelly! You sure are a tall one!"

"I would very much like to know how you murdered the Silent Moons bandits and made them smell their own entrails," Uthgerd's lungs rumbled.

"I-I assure you." I waved my hands. "No entrails were spilled..."

"Yes, please go on!" Mikael said, smiling at Applejack. I could sense several Nords in the tavern leaning closer to the flame.

"Well, it went like this." Applejack stood in the heart of the Bannered Mare. "We skulked and slithered our way into the mining tunnel built deep beneath their headquarters. Along the way, we clobbered many varmints. But they was all small fries. No big whoop. Now, once we got to their bandit chief... whew-boy! Did he put up a struggle!" An emerald wink. "Not for long, though!"