Applejack and a misfit Redguard make their home in Whiterun, trying to get by.
My name is Ru'dehm Lekishael, although my best friend calls me by the nickname "Red Delicious." Who is my best friend? Some... magical tiny horse named Applejack. She's faithful and strong. She also wears a hat.
I'm not sure what brings her to Tamriel, but she never asks why I left Hammerfell for the frozen heart of Skyrim, so... that's perfectly fine by me. It's not easy trying to scrape a living here in Whiterun, but having AJ with me makes it bearable. She looks after me and I look after her. Along the way we take out a few bandits and bounties, and that's enough to make the both of us feel accomplished.
All things considered, I really can't complain. We've got a pair of sleeping mats at the Bannered Mare, and the Nords around here are kind enough... every other Morndas or Tirdas, that is. But we're starting to get used to them; we have to. After all, it's 4E 201, the start of a new century. What's the worst that could happen?
"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!"
"Lookee here," grumbled a grimy Breton specimen strapped in banded leather armor. He gripped an iron battle axe in two hammy fists. His surly voice echoed across the craggy walls of a fire-lit mine shaft. "Looks like we got ourselves a hero."
"Oh... uhm. Hi there." I walked to a stop and casually stood before him in studded leather and a bandanna. "Dig the beard. Very 'rustic.' I hear that wood lice is in this season."
"Time to die, hero!" he gluttered, spitting.
"Right. Before you start swinging..." My eyes traveled nervously to his frayed loin cloth. "...anything at me, I was wondering if you would be so kind as to... y'know... leave."
"You picked a bad time to get lost, friend!"
"Look. Buddy." I pointed behind me, up the tunnel. "All of your friends... and I mean FRIEND friends are gone. Totally gone. They cleared off after I smacked their skulls with my staff!"
"Die already so I can take your stuff!"
"Okay... so, uh..." I dug the toe of my boot into the gravel floor beneath us. "...I may have bribed some of them with a few septims. Point is, there's this bounty... ya see... about this place? Like... Proventus Avenicci... the... uh... the steward up in Whiterun... you know him? Anyways, the guy's handing out tons of gold to anyone who rids this dirty hole of criminals and cutthroats. And I'm talking about septims out the ears. And... like... who can turn that down, right?! Certainly nobody with ears and... wait... do Argonians have ears?"
"Gonna rip you open!"
"So, I know that you're sitting here at the dead end of this tunnel as if you're waiting for some sort of drag-out boss fight, but a lot of scabs and bruises can be avoided if you just... I dunno... grabbed Books Two and Four of A Dance In Fire or whatever useless junk you have hidden in that big brown chest over there and took off for Riften or something. For real, I'm not after your loot or any of the goods that you stole from the honorable citizens of Whiterun Hold. I just need you to... y'know... clear out, and then I can get the bounty and find the money to buy myself a new dress and—"
"Gonna split your belly like an old woman's purse!"
"Alright, look." Frowning, I clenched my fists and stood on my toes. "I've traveled too long and smelled too many foul scents to have it all end with a headbutting contest against a mammoth bearded simpleton with the brain of a mudcrab!"
"Whatcha gonna do? Huh?" He pounded his leather breastplate and gripped his battleaxe tighter. "Whatcha gonna do?"
"It's not me you have to be afraid of," I said with a smile. "I gave you a chance to walk out of this with your fleas intact. Now, what's it going to be?"
"You'll be so much easier to rob when you're dead..."
"Right. Have fun scrubbing Sithis' outhouse." I reached behind my head and drew a thick wooden quarterstaff. Whistling into the air, I shouted, "Now, AJ!"
The bandit merely snorted. "Now ain't this a surprise—" His unblinking eyes reflected an incoming orange phantom.
"Yeeeeeeeee-haaaa!" Applejack galloped down the tunnel and leapt over my head on tiny horse hooves. "Let 'er rip, Red!"
"Alley—" I raised my staff horizontally.
"—OOP!" Applejack bounced off the wooden pole, spun once, and slammed into the thug's belly with a mighty dropkick. "Boosh!"
"Ooomf!" The bandit chief stumbled backwards, slamming into a table and knocking cheese wedges and cabbages to the torch-lit floor. "Bl-blessed Nocturnal!" he wheezed.
"Oh yeah?! Try prayin' to a goddess that listens, ya big galoot!" Then, with a twangy grunt, the mare slammed her knees hard into the Breton's ankle joint.
"Aaaaugh!" He tripped, did a full cartwheel, then ended up against the wall with his legs obscenely spread. Blinking, he stumbled back to his feet, unsheathed a dagger, and rushed my freckled buddy. "Gonna wear those ears for a necklace, freak—!"
With a shower of sparks, the end of my staff knocked his dagger to the floor. I held the pole to the nape of his neck, forcing him to lean back.
"Give up?" I exhaled.
"Go suck on a mammoth's teat!"
"Right." I inhaled. The staff spun between us like a wooden wind, and one last swing uppercutted him across the nose. He teetered backward, and that's when the end of my stick met his sternum. I charged, shoving him up against the wall until I had the creep pinned for good. "Alright, AJ! Got you a ticket to the finish line!"
"Mighty thanks!" The little pony hopped over my shoulder. Then, with otherworldly grace, she galloped up the length of the staff and straight into the bandit's gasping face. Both of her rear hooves kissed him between the eyes. "Nighty night!"
And a resounding crack thundered its way up and down the tunnel.
"And that's when Red Delicious here stripped him of all his armor and pointy thangs!" Applejack winked into the tavern's fire. "Then I made a lasso out of them bandits' rope and tied his limbs up all nice and good. Then we carried his pale keister out to the White River and gave him a butterknife so that he could free himself as soon as he came to... but with just the right amount of time and effort to think over the bad stuff he had done... and I mean like really think."
"Don't forget the bounty," I murmured.
"Oh! Right!" Applejack tilted her head back, smiling. "Then we turned in the bounty to Provolone Whatshisnamecci and got ourself a heapin' bunch of bits! Even got to sell some of them varmints' weapons over at Belethor's for some extra change!" She chortled. "I'd say we're about halfway towards buyin' Red here that purdy work dress she's been eyein' somethin' awful at the back of Belethor's shop."
"Okay, AJ—"
"She's practically been drooling over it. Especially since it's got this white sash in the back—"
"Okay, AJ." I cleared my throat, then waved a hand. "So... uh... there you have it."
Silence. The room was a halo of gawking Nord faces.
"Hmmm." Uthgerd's brow furrowed. "That was a good story, full of fury and merciless execution. Well met."
"Guh!" Sinmir finally stood up, reeling. "My hairy ass it was! It was full of mammoth dung and so are you two!" He teetered in a circle, frowning. "Now someone gimme another—HIC—round of Black-Briar!"
The crowd around us dissipated, Uthgerd included. Applejack sighed, taking off her hat and fanning herself. "Well, I for one thought it was a real whizzbanger. Reckon you just had to be there." He winked at me. "Good thing we was, eh Red?"
"Did you have to mention the dress part though?"
"Huh?"
"I must say, I'm quite enraptured!" Mikael stepped in between the two of us, grinning wildly. "I mean, ever since your friend gallopped in here, Red Delicious, I thought I could make a hit new ballad about the spectacle of a talking cat-horse! But that story! Whew! Let me tell you!"
"Alright, two things, Mikael." I held a pair of fingers up. "Only she gets to call me 'Red Delicious.'"
Applejack slapped her hat back on, chin tilted up. "That's right!"
"Oh. Erm... right." The bard nodded. "A thousand pardons."
"And second..." I fidgeted, gazing at him. "...if you do write a hit song about our adventures..." My snow-blue eyes narrowed. "...do any of us receive any royalties?"
"Errrrrrrrrr..." The Nord drew back, all thumbs.
I sighed, slumping my shoulders. "Guess I should have known better."
"Don't ya fret, Red." Applejack reached up and patted my knee. "You'll buy yerself that purdy dress eventually!"
"AJ, will you please can it about the dress?!"
"Silence, the two of you!" A lavishly dressed patron frowned from the table where he drank. "Can't Olfrid, patron of the great Clan Battle-Born, drink his honeymead ale in peace?! By the Eight!"
"By the Nine!" shouted a voice across the tavern.
Olfrid frowned. "By the Eight!"
A figure in a priest's robe stood up. "By the Nine!"
Olfrid shot to his feet. "By the eight!"
"BY THE NINE!" the priest caterwauled.
"Olfrid! Heimskr!" Hulda hollered from behind the main counter. "With all due respect, sit back down and enjoy your beverages! Leave the shouting to the Greybeards! I didn't have this tavern built on the Throat of the World, did I?!"
Grumbling, the aristocrat and cleric did as they were told.
Hulda sighed and looked my way. "Ru'dehm, for Zenithar's sake..."
"I-I'm sorry, Ms. Hulda." I rushed over, hands clasped together. "I-I didn't mean for that to happen. AJ and I were j-just talking, and suddenly we triggered the Battle of Cryngaine Field in mead form—"
"Relax, child," the innkeeper said. "I already have one hotheaded redguard servant. I can scarcely afford two."
"It's feeling rather nippy today." I bore a nervous smile. "Want some more firewood? I... I could go out and fetch you some more—"
"No, Ru'dehm. I'm good for now. However..." Hulda calmly exhaled. "I do need someone to make a delivery for me."
"Heh..." Applejack trotted up. "That keen to see us skedaddle on out of here, huh?"
The tavern-owner craned her neck to look over the bar. "Erm... no, curious talking horse creature." She looked back at me. "You know Bjorlam? He's the local carriage driver. He usually parks right outside of Whiterun Stables."
"Ohhhhh..." I nodded. "So that's his name."
"Anyways..." Hulda reached behind the counter and produced a miniature leather-bound book. "A traveler from out of Markarth left this here while visiting Whiterun last week. I held onto it, in hopes that he'd return. Turns out a courier showed up a few days ago, asking if there was a way that we could have it delivered back to the original owner. I've had my hands filled with the Bannered Mare, so I haven't found the time. Would you be so kind as to deliver this to Bjorlam outside the city gates? He's already promised to drop it off on his way to Markarth."
"Absolutely, Hulda." I nodded, taking the tiny tome with a smile. "Anything to make your life easier."
"Believe me. Thanks to you two, it already is." She shooed us away. "Now make haste. I promise there'll be some coin in it for you ahead of the next firewood shortage."
"Sure thing." I nodded, tucking the book away into my tunic as I headed for the door. "You can count on us."
"Hey, how's this for a change of pace?" Applejack smiled as she trotted alongside me. Her small legs had to work overtime just to keep up. I learned a while back to not hurry too much or else I'd leave the little pony in the dust. "We're settin' about just to deliver a package! Sure beats beatin' thugs up within an inch of their lives!"
"Yeah, well... you seem to enjoy that part, AJ."
"Eh... when it suits the moment. And right now I'm feelin' up for a jog rather than a dish full of justice." She stifled a chuckling breath. "Besides, I find this chilly weather mighty invigoratin'!"
"Yeah..." I shuddered, already feeling the howling breeze as I reached my soft fingers for the door handle. "Speak for yourself."
It was a sunny day over Whiterun, something that made the incessant chill around us all the more excrutiating. Rubbing my arms, I distracted myself with the sheer sights above and around our new home. Sitting high up in the kingdom's central Hold, the gated city gave us a wide view of Skyrim, including its sprawling tundra and snow-kissed mountain peaks. To the southeast, the Throat of the World devoured the visible horizon. It looked as though a whole entire continent floated above us, cushioned by clouds and obscured by high mists.
To our left and right, Nords of all walks of life strolled to and from various tasks. The marketplace bristled with chatter, punctuated by the occasional snide comment between Battle-Borns and Gray-Manes. At some point, a girl rambled on about... "mother" and "vegetables" or something. I hurried us along before Applejack got invested, and soon we were strolling leisurely past Breezehome and the Drunken Huntsman.
"Mmmmmmmmmm..." Applejack took a long, long, long breath. She eventually exhaled out a smile. Her blonde bangs fluttered in a brisk breeze. "Do ya know what I lurve about this whole Skyrim place?"
"What?" My teeth chattered as I squeezed my elbows. "I mean... besides the killer bears, bandit packs, wandering giants, xenophobic nationalists, sporadic daedra, and the constant threat of all-out civil war?"
"I just lurve the diversity of it all," she murmured. "Thangs ain't quite like this back in Equestria."
I raised an eyebrow. There was that "E"-word again. Best to let AJ carry her thought out...
"I mean, shoot, we have our own various types of ponies. Earth... pegasi... zebra... unicorn... crystal. But somehow it dun seem to stack up to the meltin' pot y'all got here in Tammy Roll."
"Tamriel. And what's so nifty about it?"
"Well, yer from miles and miles and miles away, right?"
"AJ..." I smirked, walking along. "You're getting dangerously close to breaking the ruuuuules..."
She blushed through her freckles. "Oh. Right. Pardon."
"It's all good. And... you're right, AJ. Hammerfell is... very f-far away." I cleared my throat. "But what exactly are you getting at?"
"Well, y'all Redguards come from a distant land. And yet yer here... and Saadia at the Bannered Mare. And then that Amren fella and his wife."
"I swear, if you try to match me up with him like all the others—"
"I'm just sayin' it's uncanny how many of y'all have come to Skyrim to live. Same with Belethor. He ain't Nord, am I right?"
"Nope."
"And then you've got yer elves at the bow-and-arrow shop." She pointed at the building in question as we passed it. "And, from the sound of thangs, there're lizard people and cat people and... and... are there dog people? Please say there are dog people! I'm missin' Winona mighty fierce."
"Winona?"
"Ehhhhh shucks..." She tilted the brow of her hat forward. "Reckon I'm ramblin' again. Y'see? This is why we should be off on adventures more often... kickin' in the teeth of bandits. It distracts me just right."
"All in due time. Right now, we've got a delivery to make."
"I wonder if this Bjorlam feller is a dog person..."
"Look, AJ, what does it matter?" I shrugged. "Not everyone in Skyrim is a Nord. And, quite frankly, I'm fine with that."
"Well, that's good to hear. Y'know I'm always worried for ya, darlin'." Her bright green eyes flicker up toward me. "Seems to me like ya tend to sweat a lot over fittin' in. From the look of thangs, it ain't all that crazy to be different in this here town."
"Yeah, well, from what I hear it's better than Windhelm."
"Huh?"
I sighed. "Never mind."
"Say, I've been wonderin'... if the Redguards look so different from Bretons and Nordfolk, then just where did they come from?"
"Yokuda."
"Beg yer pardon?"
"Yokuda. It's... it's a legend handed down by the Crowns and Forebears. The original Ra Gada people sailed in to invade Tamriel long after their home continent of Yokuda mysteriously sank into the ocean."
"Well that sounds..." Applejack's fuzzy orange nose scrunched. "...mighty ridiculous."
"Not as much as you'd think," I droned. "Nords sailed in from a place called Atmora... the elves came from Aldmeris... and please don't get me started on Akavir."
"Land's sakes..."
"If you ask me, it seems like the Divines all got bored and just... corralled all of humanity onto this one dumb rock to simplify things."
"Well, shucks..." Applejack blinked. "Do any folk actually come from Thumb Hill?"
"Tamriel. And... I dunno." I scratched the back of my neck. "The giants?"
"Whew-wee. Remind me to take a gander at some of Ms. Hulda's books. I've got a whole lot of catching up to do."
"You want my advice, AJ?" I bore a bittersweet smile as we approached the gates. "Just give it up. Live in the moment." I swallowed a lump down my throat. "Not in the past."
"Heh... if ya say so, darlin'."
"Hold!" A guard raised his gloved hand. His voice resonated from behind a bronze helmet. "Are you seeking to exit Whiterun's gates?"
"Only for a second," I said. "I have a delivery from the Bannered Mare to give to the carriage driver outside."
"Very well, Redguard." He took a look at my shoes. "Those are fine leather boots!"
"Uhm... thanks?"
"You know, I used to be an adventurer like you. But then..." Right at that moment, his gaze fell on the tiny horse at my side. A few seconds passed, and he tilted his helmet towards the battlements. "Heimdall! Open the gate!"
"Aye! Opening the gate!"
And the massive doors swung open with a windy gust.
"So, Hulda wants this delivered to Markath?" asked the handsome Nord at the seat of the wagon.
"Yes." I pulled the thin book out of my pocket. "Someone from that city accidentally left this at the Bannered Mare. You're headed past Markarth, right?"
"Aye." Bjorlam nodded. His voice rose to combat the whipping winds of the valley around us. "And it'd be no trouble at all to drop that thing by the local customs. Travelers come in and out of each Hold so often these days. It's a wonder people's possessions don't get dropped helter skelter more often."
"Well, some have more stamina than others," I said.
"Huh?"
I sighed. "Never mind." I held the book out to him. "Just do it as a favor for Hulda, if you don't mind."
"Don't have to ask me twice." He took it from me with a grizzled smirk. "That woman is one of the last shining souls in Whiterun. Aside from the Companions still left in Jorrvaskr."
I was about to reply when I heard Applejack's voice murmuring from the side: "Good gravy... a shine like Fluttershy's."
Curious, I glanced over my shoulder.
Applejack stood at the side of the road, gazing uphill at the lawn outside Whiterun Stables. A full-sized horse was tied to a post. The sun caught the gleen of a golden coat.
My friend sighed, tilting the brim of her hat forward. "Oh Celestia," she murmured, her breath shaky. "Please let them all be alright..."
I raised an eyebrow. Leaning over, I murmured, "Uhm... AJ?"
"Hyaa!" Bjorlam cackled, followed by a cracking whip.
I jumped in place, reaching back for a staff that wasn't there. As my heartrate returned to normal, I pivoted to see the Nord in his cart rolling off down the road. He turned right, heading west in the shadow of the Throat of the World. I was so lost in the moment that I didn't detect the trio of figures marching in the opposite direction until they were within a spit's distance. That's when my eyes suddenly filled with a vibrant burgundy color.
"So... uh... say, Red!" A twangy voice rippled from behind me. "Didja send off the book thang or...?"
I scarcely paid attention to a word AJ was saying, for they were marching past us... along the path. I wasn't entirely sure who they were... but I did see her. Or, that is to say, I didn't see the noblewoman as much as I saw the heavenly cloud that was adorning her. Red velvets and violet tresses flowed together like a crimson sea, and the tide washed back with gold trim and lace.
"Oh... my..." I bit my bottom lip. My heart thudded, and I felt a rattle around my chest. So I reached up and grasped the thing—the pendant—to keep it still. "Imperial silk. Is it?" Something sparkled between me and eternity. "It is. Oh, Dibella spare me... this is all just a dream." I gulped dryly. "I'm back in Hammerfell, suffering heat stroke."
"Red?" A tiny orange hoof tapped my ankle. "Y'all alright, darlin'?"
I didn't reply. My eyes followed the immaculate satin cuffs of the dress' sleeves, the ornamental collar, the ivory-white sash behind the bodice.
"How... how could anybody walk cross-country in that? It's... it's possibly sinful. I..."
Something flashed. A pair of eyes like hot coals. The noblewoman was glancing at me as she passed, and she was not happy.
I blinked.
"Whoah nelly!" I heard Applejack's breath stutter.
Before I could see why—
"Back off, Redguard!" A tall woman in thick iron armor growled in my face.
"Gaaah!" I fell on the ground besides Applejack, wincing.
The bodyguard leered over me, a hand to her broadsword's hilt. "Keep your eyes to yourself, desert slug!" She spat. "As Madame Skull-Star's Housecarl, I forebid you to stare at my thane!" Her teeth gnashed. "Or, so help me, I will put your skull to better use on a windowsill!"
"I... I-I wasn't staring at your thane!" I sputtered. "I was... uh... just admiring her—"
"Enough!" Her boot scraped threateningly towards me, making my pony and I flinch. "We have places to be! I shan't waste time with dusty filth such as you!" Then, with a heavy snort, she shuffled off, briskly rejoining the two aristocrats she was escorting.
I exhaled with a shudder. Soon, I felt a fuzzy cheek rubbing my shoulder.
"You okay, sugarcube?"
"Such... exquisite embroidery..." I grumbled. "If that meathead gets a drop of bandit blood on it, I swear..."
"I gotta say..." Applejack gave my pelvis a nudge, help me stand on my own two feet again. "If that bully stood to ruffle yer feathers any longer, I woulda rushed in there and punched her belly a new Momma Hole!"
"AJ... guh... you can't threaten just any person who grunts at me in this land." I sighed, brushing the dirt off my tunic. "Skyrim's... simply a rough place."
"Still dun change the fact that I hate to see anyone shove ya around."
"I know, AJ." I reached down and ruffled her mane with a sly smile. "I know."
She smiled and slapped her hat back on. "Say, Red?"
"Hmmm? What, AJ?"
"What exactly is a housecarl?"
Silence.
"Mmmmm..." I exhaled. Turning around, I marched up the long path back towards the front gates of Whitehun. "...I think I hear some uncut firewood calling."
