Stories of Skyrim

Athis

Horses.

Athis was afraid of horses. Well, not afraid, but they didn't exactly get along and they made him nervous. His nerves made the horses nervous, which made them wary of him- Skulvar won't let him in the stables because he 'sets off their panic reflexes'. It meant he walked everywhere or took the wagon, which cost a fraction of his pay. Chel fought the stubborn elf for near an hour, trying to convince him to at least hire a horse for the trip to Karthwasten. Athis refused to tell her why he never rode and Chel refused to just let it go.

They walked out of Whiterun together. Chel looked at the stables as they walked by, the horses grazing in the side yard all lifting their heads in anticipation. Athis shot her a foul glare. "Don't start," he grunted. Chel just snorted. She'd had enough of hearing him shout at her for one day.

Aside from the complaints on aching feet, they didn't speak. At all.

The second day promised to be just as silent as the first. Rorikstead fell into the horizon behind them as they crossed the unmarked border to the Reach. A group of bandits tried their luck and lost their lives; Athis had a smile on his face, the bloodshed somehow making him forget he was supposed to be a miserable git. Chel was grateful for that. Less grateful when she realised half her arrows were beyond saving.

Stupid bandits.

His good mood was boosted yet again after lunch, when they heard the telltale sounds of a fight. Athis drew his sword, hollered a war cry, and dashed into the middle of a skirmish between a Forsworn raiding party and a merchant's caravan. If he was honest, he was too preoccupied with the glory to even see the blasted horse.

When the Forsworn lay dead and Athis turned to check on Chel- the girl could find trouble in a locked room- he barely dodged the flailing hooves. The horse, panicked and stuck in 'fight' mode, had apparently picked him as the greatest threat. Athis stumbled and staggered out of the way, his breath gone in one fell swoop. He couldn't have shouted if he tried, he couldn't think, body frozen-

Chel slammed into his side, forcing him out the way and off the road. She waved her hands and circled away, taking the horse's attention with her. "Don't bite me you bloody bastard!" Chel shrieked, slapping the flat of her blade against the horse's flank. It flinched away from the sound and turned to run; she fell backwards to avoid its flying hooves, sending her tumbling to the ground with Athis beneath her. For a moment she didn't move, her heart in her mouth, until Athis made a grunting noise and began to push her off. Chel scrambled to her feet and ignored the snarl when he refused her help to stand.

The merchant they'd just saved stormed off after his horse, cursing their names. Not a word of thanks for his life or his wares. Chel made a rude gesture at his retreating back. Athis didn't wait for her theatrics. He stormed off in the opposite direction and she hurried after him.

That night, near the fire, she sat beside him. "So. That's why you don't ride."

"Yeah, what of it?" he snarled. Anger was a defence mechanism and Athis employed it well.

Chel rolled her eyes. "Fuck off, I'm not going to tease you. Everyone has their thing."

Athis ate in stubborn, fuming silence. He filled his mouth to avoid saying something he'd regret, knowing she didn't deserve his anger. By time he was finished his stew- and it was a delicious one, despite their low supplies- he started to understand why Farkas loved travelling with Chel. She could make miracles with that pouch of spices she insisted on carrying around. She was also pleasant company, when she wasn't wisecracking or trying to carry every bit of junk she could get her hands on.