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#Post#: 1299--------------------------------------------------
At my Feet (R)
By: Elisabeth Hollow Date: May 1, 2014, 5:11 pm
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Again, y'all know this story from the other forum. Well, I'm
going to play catch up and should have a new chapter by the time
I finish posting these :D
------------------
The night was chilly in the Imperial City. Breath puffed into
excited clouds as the residents of the city walked quickly
towards their homes. Stores closed for the night, the locks
clicking shut as the shop owners turned and pocketed their keys.
The night grew darker as the sun set, finally slipping over the
horizon in a sigh of relief as it crawled to warm other parts of
Nirn. Mothers laid their infants and toddlers to rest as father
stoked the fire. Beggers crawled into alleys and abandoned
houses in the Waterfront. Guards downed warming potions as they
continued their shift into the night, onfident that the cold
would deter thieves and would-be murderers.
Above their heads as Masser and Secunda rose slowly, a lithe
form leapt from rooftop to rooftop. Crouching when a guard
turned their head or scanned the roofs, the figure ducked and
dove until it came to its destination. It braced itself for the
jump, and fell nearly soundlessly onto the white-stoned balcony.
A faint glow of a candle illuminated the room inside two-story
building in the Temple District.
The man inside was hunched over a bunch of papers, parchment
rolled and tossed aside in messy piles. He glanced up when a
breeze hit him, and he saw his balcony door had blown open. He
sighed wearily as he stood up, old bones popping as he made his
way to the door. He latched it shut, but not before a pile of
papers had gotten blown onto the ground. He meticulously picked
them up, a loud crack in his back making him groan. When he
stood up, he placed the papers on his desk and sat down.
He groaned when the candle went out. He looked wearily at the
door, and stood up again to latch it back. The cold breeze from
the outside had chilled him to the bone, and he set a chair in
front of the balony door and went downstairs. His dog wagged her
tail when she heard his footsteps approach, and nuzzled his hand
when he leaned down to pet her. She followed him to the kitchen,
and her bushy tail continued to wag as he poured himself a cup
of wine. Using a simple spell, he warmed the wine until steam
rose off of it. He walked back upstairs, hissing when the hot
liquid spilled onto his hand.
He sat back down in his chair and stoked the fire, adding more
wood. He sat down at his desk and scooted closer, picking up the
warmed wine. He took a long drink and let out a sound of
satisfaction before searching for his quill. One he found it
under a pile of papers, he began to search for his diary. He
searched under the desk, the chairs, even his bed. He frowned as
he searched drawers, on top of cabinets, teetering precariously
on a wobbly chair threatening to break under his weight. His
wife, a woman of his age with brown hair and silver streaks,
caught him.
"Amantius!" she scolded, helping him down from the chair. "What
in the name of the Nine are you doing?!"
"My diary is gone!"
---
The black figure flitted between shadows, dodging swaying guards
and smelly drunks. Once it reached the Waterfront, it looked
around beforerunning to a small shack near the water. It
disappeared inside the house, and the night was quiet.
Shivering, the form lit fire in its hands and lit the logs in
the fireplace. They crackled, and soon became a roaring fire.
Within minutes, the shack was nearly stuffy with heat, and the
figure shed its black clothing. A short, thick cape was hung by
the door, and a mask was stuff in a drawer. Bright hazel eyes
inspected the book in one hand as the other golden one unlaced
boots. She set the book down and continued to shed her garments,
the illusion magick on the clothing replacing the lithe, thin
form for a muscular, curvaceous one.
Her instincts perked a half second before the door blew open, a
young woman seething in the doorway. She fixed her eyes on the
nude redhead before her.
"Samara! I'm going to kill you!"
"Closed the damned door, it's freezing!"
"Good!" The raven-haired girl shut the door anyways, in spite of
her anger. "Maybe you'll freeze to death and stop messing up my
progress!" She lunged at Samara, catching her thick red hair at
the base of her skull before she could run off.
"Ow! Alda! Too rough! TOO ROUGH!" Samara squeaked. The larger
Nord girl easily tossed a shorter, lighter Samara onto the bed
they shared. She pinned her to the scratchy sheets, rage in her
eyes.
"Ow! You're as heavy as a horse! What have you been eating?!"
"Fetchers like you for breakfast!"
"How are you doing that? We share grocer-OW!" Samara bucked her
hips and tried to knock her roommate off of her once she pinched
the sensitive mound of her breast.
"GET OFF ME, YOU COW!"
"YOU TOOK MY STEAL, YOU WHORE!"
"WELL YOU'RE SLOW!"
"AM NOT!"
"ARE TOO!" Samara wriggled an arm free and yanked hard on Alda's
hair, then shrieked when milky white fingers tickled her ribs.
She flailed and screamed with laughter, trying to knock her
assailant off. Alda's blue eyes gleamed with playfully malicious
intent.
"You're going to wet yourself!" she cackled.
"WE SHARE THE SAME BED, STUPID!"
"YOU can sleep in it, I can afford to go to the Bloated-AUGH!"
She fell off the bed onto the cold stone floor, and Samara
panted, trying to catch her breath. She reached down and handed
Alda the diary.
"Here. I don't even want it. You can take it."
"Fine!" Alda snatched the worn diary away. "Dunno what that old
man wants with this, anyways. Its just a bunch of plants."
"It's actually really interesting. He's made a plant that feeds
off of blood."
Alda rolled her eyes as she rolled off the floor. "Bookworm."
"What? It's fascinating!"
"See, I can't take you seriously."
"You can sod off, then."
"Oooh, Imperial cursing!" Alda's thick northern accent rolled
the 'r' in 'Imperial' almost like a purr. Samara felt her face
flush as she looked in the cupboards after pulling thick woolen
pants and shirt over her head.
"What do you want to eat?" She looked at the pot over the fire.
"Stew again?"
"I can cook, if you'd let me."
"You put too much salt in your food." Samara pulled out a few
small potatoes and two carrots. She tossed Alda the potatoes.
Alda brandished a silver dagger and began peeling them.
"No, leave the peeling on, I like it!"
"Well, I don't!" Alda kept peeling. Samara huffed and grabbed
the bucket by the door.
"I'll be right back. I'll get some water."
"Snatch some salt, we're almost out!" Alda called after her.
Samara ignored her and walked to the edge of the water. Her
breath came out in white puffs in the night air, the moons
reflecting off the water. She dipped the bucket in the water,
careful to not get any dirt in it. She walked back and losed the
door behind her, sighing in relief. She saw that Alda had
changed out of her dark leather armor and into a light dressing
gown.
"How can you dress so light?" Samara asked, a tinge of
incredulity in her voice. "Help me out."
Alda grabbed the bucket while Samara pulled the strainer off the
wall, held up by twine. "Because I'm not a milk-drinker." She
said as she poured the bucket on the strainer and into the
cauldron. The cloth caught bits of dirt and a small piece of
wood. Alda shook it clean outside the door as Samara began
cooking.
"I like milk." Samara said lightly. Alda ignored her.
After about an hour, the food was ready. Samara spooned two
bowlfuls and handed one to Alda, who was perched on the bed,
feet tucked underneath her. Samara handed her the salt.
"So, if you're giving me the book, what are you gonna about
getting into the Thieves Guild?" Alda took a bite of the stew,
then added more salt.
Samara shrugged. "I dunno. I don't really want to be in it,
actually."
"What? But it's every thief's dream!"
"I wanna be like Springheel Jak. He wasn't in the Thieves Guild,
and he did really good."
"Sammy," Alda's voice carried a bit of condescending sympathy.
"Springheel Jak was a man who liked to break into the homes of
rich woman and seduce them. That's what he was noteable for. Not
for thieving."
"But he wasn't with the Thieves Guild. And he was a thief! There
are stories of him leaping across buildings-"
"Ravaging noblewomen."
"-Scaling down the Palace!"
"To ravage the Empress."
"Gross. But he DID steal. So what if he had fun while he did
it?" Samara set her empty bowl down after draining it of broth.
Alda shrugged and set hers down inside of it and got beneath the
covers. Samara put a few more logs onto the fire and crawled
into bed with Alda. The smaller women turned onto her side and
allowed her friend to slip her hands beneath her woolen shirt
and warm her hands on her stomach.
"Sammy?" Alda murmured.
"Hmm?"
"You know I love you, right? Even though I'm mean to you, and
you irritate me?"
"I love you too."
There was a pause. Alda pulled Samara closer and sighed.
"I know." There was a hint of something in her voice, but Samara
didn't catch it. The two thieves drifted off to sleep, with one
dreaming of becoming the Gray Fox and the other of scaling the
Palace.
#Post#: 1369--------------------------------------------------
Re: At my Feet (R)
By: mirocu Date: May 2, 2014, 3:48 am
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And again I must compliment you for the excellent description of
the environment and happenings in the beginning, Liz! Pure
awesomeness which gave me cozy Deus Ex shivers! Well done!
HTML http://chorrol.com/forums/style_emoticons/sinders/happy.gif
#Post#: 1393--------------------------------------------------
Re: At my Feet (R)
By: Callidus Thorn Date: May 2, 2014, 8:13 am
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I remember this one, looking forward to the new stuff :)
#Post#: 1536--------------------------------------------------
Re: At my Feet (R)
By: McBadgere Date: May 3, 2014, 10:21 pm
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I never read this one either!!... :o ...I know there was a point
where my brain wasn't letting me and all that...Stupid brain...
Aaaamywho, loved this!...The characters are well sweet!...
Teeny question...As they have a shack, I'm guessing they're "of
an age" to, but how old are they supposed to be?...
Loved all the description of the break-in, the shack and the
cooking was so nicely written, I could smell it...And the naked
redhead is a proper bonus...I SAID BONUS!!!!... ;D ...
Um...There were a couple of edity type things...In there...Um...
:-[ ...
Not that it's a great problem...I just noticed is all... ;D ...
An excellent story, looking forward to seeing where it goes...
Nice one!!...
*Applauds heartily*...
#Post#: 2730--------------------------------------------------
Re: At my Feet (R)
By: Elisabeth Hollow Date: May 15, 2014, 4:43 pm
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The next night, Samara didn't even other showing up to the Guild
meeting. Instead, she let Alda have the diary and she went for a
walk. She put on thick boots and her thick dark cloak, her
woolen bedclothes beneath her regular clothes. She had lifted a
somewhat worn dress from the closet of a young noble girl a
while ago, and it fit her alright, if not a bit loose in the
hips and tight in the chest. She wandered, seemingly aimlessly
around the Talos District, her hands behind her back. When
someone would pass by, she'd look at their style of clothing
and, if it was fancy enough, she'd bump into them, and while she
apologized, reach into their pockets and swipe their money.
When she felt her pockets weigh down with coins and notes, she
decided to head back. if she didn't, Alda would start cooking,
and Samara didn't feel like putting river water in her stew
again to dull the taste of salt. The moons were up still, and
Samara looked at them for a minute longer.
"Lovely night."
She jumped to see a man dressed in rich, warm robes. She guessed
his hair was a brown, and his hazel eyes held a strange light in
them. She gazed into them, her mind blank.
"Uhm-"
"What's a lovely young lady like you doing out on a cold night
like this?" His accent was soft and melodic, floating into
Samara's ears like leaves on the wind. She murmured a
non-commital response as she pulled her gaze away from his and
looked around. The streets were empty, and she realized that she
might be in danger. Something in her gut tugged, begging her to
walk away that instant.
"I'm sorry, I need-"
"To come inside for a warm drink? I agree."
Samara pulled her arm away, and the man looked confused.
"No, I need to go. I have a friend waiting for me."
"How are you resisting?!"
"I pulled my arm away and said no, as is my right as a woman.
Get away from me, you freak!" Samara shrieked when he grabbed
the front of her shirt, the sound muffled by his hand on her
mouth. The man let out a loud bellow of pain when she kneed his
groin, then fell backwards as she elbowed him in the nose. She
left him sprawled on the ground and bolted, using the shadows to
her advantage. She didn't stop running until she reahed her
house in the Waterfront, slamming the door and locking it with
shaky hands.
She curled up on the bed, her breathing not slowing for a while.
She looked around the small shack, looking for possible weapons
in case he followed her. Oh gods, what if he saw her again and
called the guards on her? She didn't even steal from him, she
was just looking at the moons...
The door rattled, and her heart nearly thudded out of her chest.
She heard an angry voice on the other side.
"Samara! Open up! I don't have my key with me!"
Samara sighed in relief and stood up. She rolled her shoulders
around and unlocked the door, letting an irritated Alda in.
"What in Oblivion makes you think it's okay to-what's wrong?!"
Samara's eyes had been slowly filling up with tears, but when
Alda asked the question, the dam broke. Alda staggered a bit at
the force that the smaller woman hugged her, her face surprised.
"Shhh, it's okay, I'm sorry! I'm not really mad at you, you know
that." She soothingly stroked Samara's hair. Samara laughed
weakly, the sound mingling with her sobbing and coming out as a
snort. Alda made a face but kept it hidden.
"It's not that. I was in the Talos District, picking pockets,
and this man came up to me. I didn't even pick his pocket, and
he tried to yank me inside his house. I think he was gonna rape
me!"
"Nobody wants to rape you, Samara. They'd kick you out five
seconds after you started making demands on how to make things
good for you." Alda half-heartedly joked, a look of pure worry
on her face. She took Samara's face in her hands and cupped her
chin gently, making her look into her eyes.
"Stay inside for the next few nights. I got the job at the
Guild, so don't worry about anything for a few days, okay?" A
thought struck her. "How'd you get away?"
"I kneed him in the groin as hard as I could, then elbowed him."
Alda laughed loudly and hugged Samara tightly. "That's my girl.
That's my girl."
---
Samara let Alda cook, which always put the raven-haired Nord in
a good mood. She chattered excitedly about the Guild, and how
she was setting about trying to fence some stolen goods. When
she produced a bottle of wine, Samara squealed in delight.
"Oh my gods, where did you get this?!" Samara cradled the
vintage bottle of Surilie Brother's in her hands gently. "We
can't drink this!"
"Samara, we're not rich folk. We don't keep bottles of wine
around for fun, we drink them." She made a show of pulling the
cork off, with some effort, and pouring it into a wooden cup and
handing it to Samara. A smile spread on the redhead's face as
she took a sip. Her eyes rolled back into her head in salacious
pleasure when the wine touched her tongue.
"Ohhh...oh my gods, this is so good. Where'd you find this?!"
"Earl of Imbel's house. I guess I must have been there after you
were in the district."
Samara shrugged and downed the rest of the wine. She held her
cup out, and Alda laughed.
"Greedy, I haven't even had any!"
"That's because you're slow." She made a sound of protest when
Alda poured herself a glass instead of Samara. Alda smiled at
the redhead over the wooden cup, and Samara smiled back,
grabbing the bottle for herself.
"So, you're not mad about me stealing the diary yesterday?"
Samara drank half of her wine and set it aside. The drink spread
a delicious warmth from her belly and settled there. She crossed
her legs on the bed and rested her elbows on her knees, and
rested her chin in her hands, looking at the other woman.
"Not at all. I probably would've messed it up. You're lucky
you're small and quick."
"I guess. What did you tell them?"
"Who, the Guild? I told them I stole it from another thief.
Methredhel was pissed!" Alda laughed, and Samara joined her. The
warmth had spread to her limbs quickly, and made her notice
things she usually didn't. The firelight made Alda's creamy skin
glow with warmth, and danced in her eyes. Alda smiled behind her
cup.
"You're staring at me."
"Sorry. You're pretty in the firelight. You're pretty always.
I'm jealous."
Alda frowned. "Of what?"
"Your skin is so pretty, and you're so tall!"
"My feet are huge, and so is my nose. I have man-hands." Alda
laughed.
"You do not! Your long fingers look like a lute player's
fingers." Samara grabbed Alda's hand and held her own hand
palm-to palm. "Look at how short and chubby my fingers are."
Alda's fingers intertwined with Samara's, grasping them firmly.
"They're perfect."
Samara smiled and patted Alda's hand. "Thanks. You're too nice."
She let go of Alda's hand and grabbed her cup and drained the
rest of the wine. Alda sighed and grabbed the bottle and began
drinking straight from it.
"Hey!" Samara tried to yank the bottle away from her. "Greedy!"
"You've had TWO glasses, and it takes more than just one bottle
of expensive wine to make a Nord warm!" She held the smaller
woman away by the forehead while she drank the bottle's
contents. Samara huffed and tossed her cup at Alda, hitting the
side of her temple.
"OW!"
"That's what you get! I'm sorry!" Samara yelped when Alda
grabbed her by the arm and flung her onto the bed. She blinked
in half-confusion when she hit the bed.
"Whoa, I'm dizzy. Stop for a moment." Alda let her go, and
Samara lay on the bed, catching her breath. "That wine works
fast."
"You're a lightweight."
"I'm a Breton."
"That's still up for debate, honey."
"It's what I'm going with for now." Samara sat up, her brow
furrowed.
"You ever gonna look? You're old enough now." Alda sat next to
her. "You could go ask for the records, steal the money they ask
for, no problem."
Samara leaned her head on Alda's shoulder. "I don't know. Do
they give reasons for adoptions? Like 'Abandoned,' or 'Deceased
parents' or something?"
"I don't know. You could ask?"
Samara sighed and glanced over at the fire. "I might. But what
if they just didn't want me?"
"Then they're missing out. You're great." Alda smiled down at
her, but Samara was looking at the dirtied floor of their shack.
She absently bit her lip, frowning.
"What time is it?" She asked Alda. Alda made an uncertain
"Uhhh..." and opened the door, looking at the moons.
"A bit past midnight. Why?"
Samara shivered when the breeze hit her. Alda promptly shut the
door.
"I'm going to find out who gave me up. " She put on her thick
cape. Alda put a hand on her arm gently.
"I'm coming with you, love."
#Post#: 2807--------------------------------------------------
Re: At my Feet (R)
By: McBadgere Date: May 16, 2014, 10:59 pm
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[quote]Ooh, chapter two! Thanks to everyone for reading so far.
I'm a little stuck on Kayla's story, hence why I'm doing this
one to keep the juices flowing.
Mirocu: Thank you!
SubRosa: Thanks for the heads up on the nits. I saw a few more
that neither of us caught. As for their relationship, Alda is a
lesbian, and Samara sees her as a friend. She doesn't know she's
a lesbian, though. So she is technically a milk-drinker XD
DE: I really wanted to do a Cyrodiil-based fic, and wasn't
confident enough back when it first came out to do one (and
didn't know what fanfic even was at that point) but I figure, if
people can carry on years of writing a fic over and over, I can
just start a new one, right?"
Rohirrim: Naked babes is always a good thing. ALWAYS.
KoB: You already know Samara, lol. Alda is new for you.
[/quote]
Ah, the problems with not checking which bits you're copying and
pasting from the other place...
Excellent stuff Lizzeh!...
Nice one!!...
*Applauds heartily*...
#Post#: 2842--------------------------------------------------
Re: At my Feet (R)
By: Elisabeth Hollow Date: May 18, 2014, 9:15 am
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That serves me right XD
#Post#: 2843--------------------------------------------------
Re: At my Feet (R)
By: Elisabeth Hollow Date: May 18, 2014, 9:21 am
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Samara leaned against the wall of the Imperial prison cell,
letting out an irritated sigh. Alda chuckled from the cell
across from her.
"Well this seems familiar. What did they cite you with again?"
"Being drunk and disorderly, attempted theft, trespassing, and
sexual assault."
Alda laughed loudly, earning an angry grunt from the Dunmer
across from her.
"Shutup, snowback! You too, Breton trash!"
"Ooh, testy!" Alda said in a teasing voice.
"I think he likes us." Samara laughed.
"Disgusting! You two are going to die in here!"
"For being drunk in public? Hardly." Samara could hear the
eye-roll in Ada's voice. Why did you get charged with sexual
assault?"
"I tripped and landed face-first into a guard's groin. My
forehead is gonna have a bruise."
That earned another cackle from Alda. The door shut up the
stairs and down the hall, making the Dunmer cackle mockingly.
"You hear that? The guards are coming! For you!" He laughed
mockingly again. Alda sighed audibly.
"They're probably coming to let us go. It's been about ten
hours."
"It's been two." Samara pressed her face against the bars, her
head almost able to fit through. She struggled to see who was
coming down the steps as the torchlight lit up the stone
hallway.
"My sons...they're dead?"
Much of what the conversation was about was lost on Samara as
she noted the group. Three individuals hovered around another,
wearing steel armor with strange etchings on them. Their faces
were hard and chiseled, searching the cells for possible danger.
The fourth individual was addressed as "sire" by the female.
They stopped at her cell.
"Stand back, prisoner." The redguard siad, earning a quiet
cackle from the Dunmer across from her. Samara obliged.
"What's this prisoner doing here?" The female asked. "This cell
is supposed to be empty."
"Usual mix-up with the watch, I-I-"
"Doesn't matter. Stand back, by that window. We won't hesitate
to kill you." The Imperial guard opened Alda's cell. She heard
murmurs from the man dressed in rich, royal clothes. She heard
Alda's loud voice say "I'm not on good terms with the gods."
She heard stones shifting, and she shook the bars.
"Alda? Alda, what's going on? Alda, answer me!"
"Shutup!" The female guard snapped. "Better not close this one.
It can't be opened from the other side." Then silence. She heard
Alda's voice, oddly hushed.
"Sammy, that was the Emperor. something's wrong. Really wrong.
I...have to go. I have to see."
"Alda, no! Don't leave me here by myself!"
There was nothing but silence. Samara shook the bars again and
yelled Alda's name.
"Oh SHUTUP, she's gone, you s'wit!" the Dunmer hollered. Samara
sat by the bars, stunned. The moonlight streamed through the
bars, and a chilling breeze wafted through. Samara shivered and
sat by the bars until they released her three days later.
---
Nirn had erupted into chaos. The Emperor and his sons were dead,
found assasinated by unknown assailants. Kvatch had burned to
the ground, and gates were opening. The roads were no longer
safe to travel, as daedra killed travelers who couldn't defend
themselves properly.
Samara kept her life going as best as she could, stealing from
the rich and giving to the poor. She raided the coffers of the
Imperial City's most elite, earning the ire of both the Thieves
Guild and honest folk alike.
Alda never showed back up. Samara left her door unlocked each
night, hoping to see her friend burst in, furious about
something. The salt was left untouched in her cupboard.
Under a stack of books on her dresser, rolled-up parchment with
a ribbon around it sat, neglected. In a random fit of honesty,
Samara had paid for her adoption records, but without Alda there
to look with her, she didn't see the point in finding out. At
first, she would sit with it in her hand for a few minutes,
curiousity and nerves gnawing at her stomach. Eventually, she
stopped picking it up, and forgot about it.
On a whim, she slipped into the Earl of Imbel's house one night,
easily picking the lock and shutting the door behind her before
anyone saw. The downstairs looked empty, the huge foyer making
her shake her head.
"Rich folk." she muttered under her breath as she silently crept
up the stairs. She felt odd, like someone was watching her in
the empty house as she filled her pockets with coins, jewels,
and other trinkets she could fit. She lifted a silver necklace
with a large emerald amulet on it. Circling the gem were two
dragons, one silver, the other ebony. Their tails intertwined,
and their eyes were rubies. On the back were some Nordic runes.
Samara stuck it in her pocket and quickly left.
She slipped through the city easily and into her house, pulling
her cape off and hanging it up. She opened her top drawer and
began piling her loot in under the false bottom. She looked up
momentarily to see faded parchment under books. She shut the
drawer and pulled the now-creased paper from under the books and
sat on her bed. After a moment of staring, she pulled the ribbon
and let it fall to the floor and unfolded it.
"Samara Sage Imbel,
DOB: Second Seed, 13, 3E 412"
"Imbel?" Samara nearly dropped the paper. She was the daughter
of an earl?! She gulped and kept reading.
"Brought in by father, Jakben Imbel, on day of birth. Looked
distraught. Whereabouts of mother unknown. No visitation
rights."
Samara dropped the paper onto the ground. She was the daughter
of an earl. And she was right. They didn't want her. She let the
paper fall to the ground, leaving it open. She shed the rest of
her clothes except her undergarments and slid under the covers.
---
Samara felt a breeze on her face and woke up to find her door
shutting silently, and a dark figure in her room. She kept her
breathing even as she watched it begin rifling through her
drawers. She gripped the knife under her pillow tightly.
"Waterfront District is exempt from thievery." She said, making
the figure jump. She sat up and held out her dagger.
"Get out."
"You have something of mine. Where is it?"
"I have a lot of something of everyone's. You'll have to be more
specific."
A strong hand gripped her throat, and she struggled for air. The
blade was twisted from her hand, and she felt a bone snap.
"An amulet. Emerald. Two dragons. One ebony, the other white
gold. Nordic runes on the back. I know you have it."
Samara let out a piercing scream of pain when he released her
throat. "In the drawer!" She sobbed.
"Which drawer?" The figure demanded.
"Top!"
"You're LYING!"
"False bottom!" She wailed. The figure ripped open the drawer
and threw her clothes on the floor. Samara sobbed and cradled
her broken wrist. The figure tore the false bottom out and held
up the amulet. A hand was on her throat again.
"I ought to slit your throat here and now. Don't you ever come
to my house again, you hear me?"
Samara gasped. "You won't let your own daughter into your house,
Jakben?"
The figure froze, its grip slack. He stepped back.
"I have my birth certificate." Samara said in a raspy voice, but
the figure was gone.
#Post#: 2991--------------------------------------------------
Re: At my Feet (R)
By: Elisabeth Hollow Date: May 21, 2014, 8:05 pm
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The next few days were excruciating for Samara. The priest at
the temple had to set her wrist and splint it. She was out of
commission until her wrist was better. In her spare time, which
was a lot now that she couldn't pick locks or pockets, she read
up on the history of Springheel Jak. She found nothing
definitive except for myths, legends, and heresay. She was
disappointed that there wasn't more information on her favorite
thief, but there was a lot of speculation.
Another week passed before she saw Jakben Imbel. She heard a
knock on her door just after dusk and opened it, shifting her
sling on her shoulder to a more comfortable position. When she
opened it, she let out a shriek.
"You tried to rape me! I'm calling the-"
She let out a squeal as the hands of the brown-haired man from
the Talos District clamped down on her mouth. He pushed her
inside, his face expressionless.
"Hush, I'm not here to hurt you. It's me, Jakben."
Samara shook her head behind his hand and bit it. He frowned
slightly, and her eyes widened at his lack of reaction.
"I've fallen from heights that would have liquefied the insides
of most people, had a sword pierce my chest, and been starved
for months. You think a small bite from the dull teeth of a
human child is going to harm me? Now, I'm going to let go, and
you're not going to scream. understand?"
She nodded, and took a deep breath when he let go. "You're
Jakben?! You know you tried to rape me, right?!"
"Yes, I know. I was there. And I wasn't trying to rape you. If I
wanted you, I would have had you in a moment."
"So what? Were you gonna eat me or something?"
Jakben's face was unreadable, and Samara's gut dropped.
"You rich people are [censored] weird. Just [censored] weird.
Get out of my house, I don't want you here!"
Jakben held an amulet up, the two dragons glinting in the
firelight. "You deserve an explanation."
"You're damn right I do!"
Jakben chuckled and sat on a rickety wooden chair. He frowned
and wiggled his rear. It gave an audible crack, and he was up as
it crumbled beneath his weight.
"Your chairs are very uncomfortable and do not properly support
weight."
"Welcome to being poor. You owe me a new damn chair." She sat on
the bed instead of the remaining chair. Jakben put his hands
behind his back and stood in front of her, looking down.
"Sit on the bed...dad." Samara put as much venom into the last
word as possible.
"I'll stand. Your mattress is made of...straw?" He looked
disgusted as he eyed the bits of straw sticking from the
mattress. He absently scratched his neck and returned his arm
behind his back.
"Again, poor. You'd cry at what I have to eat."
He looked around. "I don't see anything."
"That's because I haven't gone to the inns and dug from their
garbage yet."
He looked horrified for a split second, then regained his
composure. "I'll send you a new chair."
Samara let out an amused breath through her nose, a smirk on her
lips. "Yeah you are. So what's so important about this amulet
that you broke my damn wrist over it?"
"It was your mother's." He looked at the amulet with tenderness,
handling it gently. He traced the dragons with his thumb, a look
of utter sadness on his face. Samara was silent. The room
suddenly seemed tight, like a lung empty of air. The warmth of
the fire was stifling. She didn't want to be in the room, alone,
with this man, with a look on his face that made her want to
weep.
"Why?" The word sprung from her lips unexpectedly. "Give me
away, that is. Why didn't you two keep me?"
"She died. You were a miracle. Elves only have one or two
children in their lifetime-"
"I'm part elf?" Samara looked at her hands in disbelief. "Wood
elf?"
"High Elf," he corrected. "Altmer. That's the proper term. She
was always insistent that I never used the slang. She had
miscarried before, earlier in our marriage. She'd always wanted
a large family, and I had the house for it. We planned on
adopting what she couldn't birth. And then she died." He gripped
the amulet in his right hand. Samara grew more uncomfortable.
"It wasn't my fault." She said quietly.
"No, you misunderstand. It wasn't at all. She gave birth to you,
easily, and even nursed you the first night of your life. The
next night, I went out. And when I returned, she was dead. There
was a sword through her chest and a knife at your throat. I
killed the attacker and took you to the orphanage. I couldn't
care for a child on my own."
The air thinned as Samara's rage surfaced. She jumped up and
shoved him, his immobility enraging her more.
"That's it?! She died, and you ABANDONED ME? How dare you! I
NEEDED you!"
"You're better off."
"Better off? BETTER OFF?" All of Samara's rage was channeled
into a single punch to Jakben's stomach. He wheezed and doubled
over.
"Gods, child!" he gasped.
"You think living in this dump makes me better off? You think
living off of other people's scraps is better off? You just
broke my chair by sitting on it, and you think I'm better off? I
have to steal from others in order to make sure I survive!"
Tears ran down her face, and her words were punctuated with
sobs. "Get out. I don't want anything from you. You're stupid,
and I'm not your daughter!" She threw a stone cup at him with
her left hand, wildly missing it, and shattering it against the
floor. Jakben had straightened up, and looked regretful.
"I'm sorry to have bothered you." He said before he closed the
door behind him.
#Post#: 2997--------------------------------------------------
Re: At my Feet (R)
By: McBadgere Date: May 22, 2014, 12:17 am
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Wow...Just...Wow...
I don't know anything about the Thieves Guild quests...Well, I
know that Springheeled Jak is involved, yes...But beyond that...
But I absolutely loved the way you just dropped the Emperor's
bit of the MQ into it!!... ;D ...Plus, you then completely
sidestep it!!...Oh, genius!...*Applauds*...
While I admit it would have been properly awesome to see your
take on that dungeon crawl...The fact that it's all one minute
she's there, next it's three days later is proper cool...
I love the characters so far...I love the writing...Fair dues,
that's proper awesome, right there...
While it would be nice to see Ada come back as Champion of
Cyrodiil...Your habit of not following conventions with the
other one doesn't offer much hope of that... :D ...That is no
bad thing at all, btw...I'm just saying I like the way your
characters seem together is all... ;) ...
Fair dues The Hollow-Girl...
Nice one!!..
*Applauds heartily*...
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