The Skyrim Pirates (A Skyrim Fanfiction)

Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The huge bonfire glowed fiercely, the flames licking the night sky brilliantly. A passive, grey giant lounged against the rocks, eyelids drooping as the time ticked by and the lazy moon moved slowly across the black sky. He spared a glance towards his mammoths as they grazed safely nearby, before sliding to the floor with a loud thump, slipping into slumber.

A good distance away, in the shelter of some trees, Jolgar and I sat beside our own campfire, waiting for Ralof and Sprig to return from a hopefully fruitful hunting trip. The grand, icy city of Windlhelm was just visible in the distance, the small balls of orange torchlight from the streets blinking at us from afar.

Idly, I played with my dagger, chipping at a splintered bit of branch that lay beside me. Jolgar watched, seeming content to observe my bored fidgeting.

"You're still wearing your Amulet of Mara," he pointed out suddenly, his voice low.

I glanced up, meeting his green eyes briefly before returning to my branch.

"Naturally."

"Ah. With all the adventuring, I thought you'd have come across far more expensive jewellery to wear by now."

I sniffed. “This has sentimental value.  Besides, who says I haven't found expensive jewellery? There is a reason why I'm not poor. Merchants love to take any loot I find."

Jolgar smiled, and then sighed wistfully. "I've never been adventuring before. That's why I joined the Imperials, you know. To see anything other than sheep and the walls of my farmhouse."

I paused in my hacking, and looked up. He seemed saddened by the topic, and my curiosity grew as I gazed at this suddenly enigmatic man. I shuffled closer to him, leaving my dagger buried in the wood.

"How long were you in the Imperial Army before you became a Stormcloak?" I asked, smiling slightly as I remembered his initial reluctance.

He smiled faintly in response. "I’d only been a soldier for a month before you raided our camp. Thank you for that, by the way. I'd only just managed to fall asleep when you attacked us."

Sheepishly, I shrugged. "You're welcome."

He shook his head after a moment, an incredulous look on his face as he studied me. "By the Gods, what were you thinking when you charged our camp - alone?"

I bristled slightly. "I wasn't alone, I had my follower."

"Oh, the wizard?" Jolgar grimaced, and I chuckled.

"Yes. Marcurio was an excellent wizard – one of the best I’ve met."

I felt a sudden twinge of sadness, remembering his death. As much as he'd been sarcastic and sometimes downright patronising, he'd still been a friend.

Jolgar shuddered. "I remember coming out of my tent and seeing the whole place on fire."

I grinned guiltily. "Well, I couldn't help but try to outdo Marcurio with magic - but I ended up being a bit too… liberal with the flames."

Jolgar snorted. "I think being ‘too liberal’ is an understatement.”

We laughed quietly, careful not to be too loud. The wrath of an angry, sleep-deprived giant was a frightening prospect. Being so close to a giant’s camp was both a stupid yet brilliant idea. Our close proximity to a club-wielding giant guaranteed us some safety…

Giants tended to put up a pretty good fight against dragons.

 We quieted, and it was a short while before Jolgar spoke again, his voice soft and thoughtful.

“I have to admit, I was terrified when I first saw you. You were stood in the middle of our camp, just standing in the flames, like a vengeful apparition. In that moment, I was sure I was going to die. You were so self-assured, hardly sparing a glance at the soldiers as you slew them… Half of me was terrified, but then, half of me was completely in awe of you.”

I was silent throughout this admonishment, and when he finished, I was unsure how to reply. It took a minute to digest this.

“If your friend Engar hadn’t smashed that tankard against the back of my head, I wouldn’t have been captured and trussed up,” I replied uneasily.

“I’m glad he did, or I don’t doubt that I would’ve fallen to your blade that night,” Jolgar replied seriously, but he offered me a small smile.

“Then it’s a good job I did get knocked out – even if it did give me a splitting headache the day after,” I said, unconsciously rubbing the back of my head as I spoke.

We were quiet again, contemplating what might have been.

After a moment, it was I that started up conversation again, needing to question something he’d said.

"I know you said that you wanted to have adventures, but having a safe life on a farm must have been nice. No need to worry about being killed, or getting lost in the wilderness, or stuck in some god-forsaken crypt with draugr breathing down your neck," I said, surprised by the passion that laced my words.

Deep down, I was envious of anyone who had a normal, comfortable life.

Jolgar gazed at me with veiled eyes. "Living on a farm alone is not the most thrilling lifestyle in Skyrim."

"But you were safe, right?" I argued.

"Yes, but I wasn't happy."

I looked into our campfire thoughtfully, lost in the idea of having a normal life.

"I'd like to settle down one day," I admitted after moment, "Maybe I'd have my own farm."

"Is that why you wear that amulet? In the hope that someone will settle down with you?" Jolgar asked quietly.

A small smile passed across my lips as I looked back at him. "Is that an offer?"

"If you want it to be," he replied slowly, his gaze serious, self-assured, and hopeful all at once.

I swallowed, uncharacteristically nervous. “But I thought you wanted to have adventures? Settling down is the opposite of what you want.”

Jolgar smiled, his eyes locked on mine. “I think settling down with you would be the adventure of a lifetime.”

I was silent.

It was hard to render me, Vivian, the Dovahkiin, speechless, but this was one of those rare moments when I was completely lost for words.

I’d had a few proposals before, due to the Amulet, but I’d always laughed the suitors away. But this time it was different. Jolgar had managed to kindle the overwhelming feeling of love in my heart, though I had previously refused to let myself accept this. Looking into his mysterious green eyes now, I knew that I loved him. It was undeniable.

But... I was the Dragonborn. And he was a farm boy.

Could I drag him into my world, into a world of danger, political struggles and deception?

A rustling in the trees saved me from having to reply. Ralof materialised from the darkness, hauling an elk carcass behind him. Sprig bounded along, seeming pleased with herself.

Ralof dumped the stag beside the fire, a smug look on his face as he pointed to an arrow protruding from between the deer's eyes.

"And that, my friends, is why I am the best hunter around," Ralof said proudly, before dropping to his knees beside the carcass and pulling out a knife from his satchel.

"I think we're going to need more wood. Jolgar?" he said distractedly as he rammed the knife into the pelt.

Jolgar, seeming distance, got to his feet slowly, and with a lingering look at me, he disappeared into the darkness to fetch firewood.

Author’s Note:

I’m so sorry for the extremely long wait for this chapter!!

Anyway, if you like the story so far, please vote and comment!

Thank you!! :)