Ashes and Wine

Don't call her Berry. (( Skyrim OC - May contain NSFW - Not open for Crossovers ))

[bodranbelaal-deactivated2015062]

What Rock Through Yonder Window Breaks?

[bodranbelaal-deactivated2015062]

'What do you mean, “Why do you want to go to a ruin”?!  For the money, of course!'  The dark couldn't quite register the fullness of the enthusiasm in his ruby-red eyes, but the same couldn't be said for Bodran's excited gesturing.  'These Nords bury their dead with all their prized possessions!  Think of something that your parents always wanted… like a new plough or some… other farming equipment!  Well you could get it for them courtesy of Bjorn Bjornsen the First, eh?'

He cupped her shoulders with his hands.  It was a bold move and he knew it, but Bodran was desperate.  He needed her for her cooperation more than her company.  He needed her knowledge of the surrounding area as well as the use of her family’s property to safely hide any valuables he could not carry back to Riften all in one go.  So he continued to wheedle.  ’Barely knowing me is half the fun!  What better way to get to know someone?!  After this, any other way would bore you to tears!  I swear by the Gods above that I won’t lay a hand on you—er—,’ he looked down the lengths of his arms and slowly removed his hands from her shoulders, ‘—from now on.  What do you say?’

[comberrywine]

Tomb robbing. That's what he wanted to do. He wanted to rob tombs full of the dead, and everyone knew the Nordic dead were restless. And angry about people breaking in. Besides that it was a bit...sacrilegious to take things from the dead. If her parents knew where she got any of this money...

Well, maybe they didn't need to know. Maybe it'd be nice to have some money for herself. And--

His hands on her shoulders jolted her back to reality. Sudden, warm, heavy, different, a shock that made it difficult to think. She didn't get touched. Her parents didn't want much to do with her. Her place in the house was another pair of hands, and because it was the 'right thing to do.'

Bodran wanted her along because...well, he had to want her along. There was no other reason for it she could think of. Despite their awkward conversation before, he must have just liked her. That was new. That was very new.

Then his hands were gone. And she needed to go with him. "I...give me a minute." She licked her lips, nervous. Excited. "I'll...I'll get the hatchet. For the draugr."

[bodranbelaal-deactivated2015062]

What Rock Through Yonder Window Breaks?

[bodranbelaal-deactivated2015062]

His grin—already wide and toothy—grew in size and smugness as Comberry grew closer.  He was pleasantly surprised that she had answered and even more so that she had come down to talk—what an amiable and companionable girl she was turning out to be!  He couldn’t help but let out a snigger as she squeaked her warning.  Composing himself, he drew a finger to his lips.

'Shh, shh!  I'll be quick.  What say you to a little adventure, hn?  And while I’d be open to the sort that involve haystacks, I was thinking somewhere a bit deeper and darker… say, the Nordic ruin not far north of your lovely home?’

[comberrywine]

He was here to invite her to...run away? There really was no other way to put it, considering he was asking her to go to some ruin; that wasn't an excursion one could make in a night and return before you were missed. She was trying to ignore that he'd even mentioned haystacks at all, though, hoping the darkness outside would hide the darkening of her cheeks.

"Why do you want to go to a ruin?" Any manner of terrible things could happen if she followed him, and, considering how near they were to Riften and how often young women could go missing, that Nordic ruins were full of the dead seemed like the least of the unpleasant ones. "I barely know you."

[bodranbelaal-deactivated2015062]

What Rock Through Yonder Window Breaks?

[bodranbelaal-deactivated2015062]

He had picked up another rock when he heard the soft creak of a window being opened.  He stepped back and looked up in trepidation.  Relieved that it was indeed his target and not—as he had feared—her murderous parents, he grinned in the darkness.  

The moment suggested that he gesture up to her window and with one hand on his chest serenade her, but he repressed this strange theatrical desire.  He settled instead for loudly whispering (which was tantamount to a hoarse roar): ‘Come down so I can talk to you!  I have a proposition for you!’

He paused to consider the words he had just spoken and added, ‘Okay, two propositions!  I think you’ll like both of them although granted you may think you’ll like the one more than the other, but I can assure you that I am—look just come down, will you?’

[comberrywine]

A proposition. Surely he knew how that sounded. And how loud he was! A miracle her parents were still asleep, not to mention any of the farm hands. What was she supposed to do? If he kept up this racket, Comberry was certain he'd be in trouble, and so would she, for 'enticing' him here.

"Just...just hold on a minute." Better to go down and send him away. She moved away from the window, shucking her nightgown to pull on something more suitable to...midnight liaisons. No, that made it sound exciting. This was just kicking someone off their land so she could go back to sleep.

...Perhaps that was unkind. Whatever this was, it required breeches, a warm tunic, and hastily-pulled on boots.

When she was finally able to sneak out the door, her nerves were as scattered as the bed head she was trying to finger comb down. She tried to keep her voice down as she approached Bodran, but the whole ordeal made it crack hilariously in the middle. "If my parents catch you..."

[bodranbelaal-deactivated2015062]

What Rock Through Yonder Window Breaks?

It had felt like aeons had passed since Bodran had last played the role of a suitor standing beneath a woman’s balcony… or in this case, her farmhouse window.  He was pretty sure he was supposed to bring an instrument of some sort in order to serenade her, but the whole scene hinged on getting the woman’s attention in the first place.  

This was not an easy feat.  Dirt had not worked and neither had several showers of gravel.  He saw no light and so continued determined to get her attention.  Since pebbles would not do, he hefted a larger rock.  Gentle, now, gentle and ready… aim… fire!

It was a miracle of the Gods that the window did not break.  The rock hit it with a heavy crack against the pane and fell heavy to the ground.  He stared miserably at the rock for a moment before turning his attentions back to the window.  He whispered loudly:

'PSST.  BERRY.  BARENZIAH.’

[comberrywine]

She had thought it was a dream. The clatter of pebbles and topsoil against the side of the house could have been anything, and when drowsy with eyes glued shut, there was no reason it should be anything important. This meant, then, that the sharp sound of something certainly substantial smacking against her window startled her enough to send her tumbling out of her bed in a fright.

Gods, had something smashed into her window? A bird, maybe? It took a moment of being tangled in her sheets before she was able to struggle herself free and up to peer outside. Eyes adjusted to the dark, and she had to bite down on a gasp. What was he doing here? And calling her those names, too. What on Nirn could he want?

Comberry's face flushed as she remembered some rather bawdy things that a Dunmer would certainly be looking for in the dead of night. Well, not with her! She would just have to send him off.

She unlatched the window and swung it open, hoping to forestall any further projectiles that could wake her parents. Her quiet whisper matched his in volume, because even if it would be easier to have her Nordic family drive him off, she didn't want him hurt.

"What are you doing? You're going to get us both in trouble."

[comberrywine]

Flowers and Flirts

[bodran-deactivated20150209]

Bodran clutched a hand to his chest, or at least he intended to, but as he was holding her things he ended up simply jostling them unnecessarily.  ’Nords?!’ he cried with what he felt ought to be apt agitation and surprise.

Theatrical to his very bones, he supplied the details rather than enquiring after them.  He took steps forward, the pace of his foot matching that of his mouth.  ’An orphan!  Left at the doorstep during a rainy night.  No, thunderous night!  Quite ominous a night.  Full of portent.’  He turned to scrutinise her for a second, breaking his gaze only to balance her things in his arms.  ’Is that your natural hair colour?  Are you quite certain it’s not a vibrant red?  You could be the distant descendant of Barenziah herself!  Thus the name, you see.’  He huffed, quite convinced already by his own work of fiction.

[comberrywine]

What was he doing? This story was nonsense, and what-- "My hair? My hair's always been--no, no, I'm not related to Barenziah, I don't--" But there seemed to be no interrupting him. Even worse, he was marching faster now, and she had to pick up her pace just to keep up with him. Even worse, he was quick-stepping far too fast for her to stop him. He was going to be in sight of her farmhouse soon, and he was loud.

Louder still was the voice of her father, cutting over even Bodran's dramatics. "Comberry? That you? Who are you talking to?"

She couldn't help it. She panicked. Her arms shot out and knocked Bodran over and into the shrubbery even as she shouted. "No one! I'll be right there!"

She'd knocked him over. Oh gods, oh no, this was awful. And he had her things! She began quickly gathering up the items she bought, giving him quiet, frantic, repetitive apologies. And then running.

[comberrywine]

Flowers and Flirts

[bodran-deactivated20150209]

He paused for a moment, but only in speech and not in stride.  The cheeky little daedroth!  Well, she had defied her father by speaking with him, which meant that in all probability she would be open to defying her father by doing… other things with him.

'Ah, yes, but,' he stalled, 'I am no man.'  He considered this for a second and qualified his statement.  'That is to say, er, I am a mer, not a man.  And not just any mer, but a Dunmer—one of your own kind, with your interests at heart.  You know, we Dunmer ought to stick together.  Racial solidarity in an unfamiliar land and whatnot.  Surely your father would view me as an exception to the rule?’

[comberrywine]

"Oh, no, that's even worse," Comberry replied, without thinking. She gasped, realizing that not only was that saying too much, it was also incredibly rude. "I, I mean..." She had to try and explain now. Maybe he would understand. She could only hope. "...My parents are Nords."

Would that be enough of an explanation? She hoped so. It was embarrassing even to admit it to another Dunmer.

[comberrywine]

Flowers and Flirts

[bodran-deactivated20150209]

'Ah, but I'm no stranger.'  Bodran was under the impression that “stranger danger” never applied to him because, well, he was no stranger to women.  He paused to think over this over, 'Well, not anymore, in any case.  I’m sure your father could have no objections to you walking home with a friend.’  And what a friend he was, too, carrying her things and all.  How could a father ever object to someone like him. (How indeed…)

[comberrywine]

She really needed him to understand. Her fingers fidgeted in the folds of her dress as she considered how best to let him know that her father certainly would object. And she would get the worst of it. "You, you see, he doesn't object only to strangers, but..." she chewed her lip. Honesty was best, wasn't it? "I'm not supposed to be speaking to men. Or walking home with them. I'm...I'm not allowed." Gods, he would think her silly, now.

[comberrywine]

Flowers and Flirts

[bodran-deactivated20150209]

Bodran noticed the grimace and presumed Maven was to blame for it.  ’Hardly sporting,’ he offered as consolation.  ’So long as the mercenaries purchase rather than plunder, I’m sure you’ll make a little profit on the side.’

'But by Oblivion, I’ll even buy from you if it would spare you the arduous journey.’  Maybe then she’d invite him in for tea and biscuits.  ’It isn’t right, a young woman like you travelling these dangerous roads alone.  What would your father think?  No, no, you need someone like me to keep an eye on you.  Keep you out of trouble.  Prevent the wolf population from rapidly declining, so on and so forth.’ 

[comberrywine]

"That's very kind of you," Comberry assured him, still feeling a little awkward about the fact that he was being so helpful. "But we still have to go into town for supplies we can't get out here. Um, the alchemy supplies, not all of them grow in the Rift." She suddenly wished her hair was longer, so she could play with it.

"My father's the one who sends me. It's one of my chores." It did always strike her as odd why he would consent to her being out on her own, especially as he always questioned her sharply when she returned. She would have to lie about meeting Bodran, she knew. He would quickly become 'no one' and 'nobody' after the door to the house shut and the inquiries began. Perhaps she could warn Bodran off before the farm, by telling a little bit of the truth. "I'm not really supposed to talk to anyone but the merchants, though. Especially not..." males "...strangers."

[comberrywine]

Flowers and Flirts

[bodran-deactivated20150209]

He turned obediently, marching down the marked path.  ’Maven Blackbriar?’  Noted, stored, tucked away to remember for… later.  ’How is she as a neighbour?  Do you have mercenaries stalking your gates as well?’ 

[comberrywine]

"She...doesn't bother us. But if an animal gets out into her land, she keeps it." There had been some trouble with a cow, once. Comberry never heard the end of it, even though it wasn't her responsibility to keep it penned in. She grimaced. "Mostly, she just leaves us alone. The mercenaries will buy from us, sometimes."

This was almost nice, despite the fact that Bodran had bullied his way into coming along. She had company, who was holding her groceries, and making conversation. And he was easy on the eyes, too, despite that definitely being a thought she wasn't supposed to think.

[comberrywine]

Flowers and Flirts

[bodran-deactivated20150209]

'Wolves,' he repeated solemnly, exiting through the open gates as he did so. 

'Of course, I have not the slightest of doubts that you have successfully routed them before in your work on the farm, but as they say: two heads are better than one.'  He turned towards her once he realised he hadn't the faintest idea where he was going.  'Er, which way?'

[comberrywine]

"Oh! I'm sorry," she was suddenly flustered, realizing she'd been lost in her thoughts enough to agree to this without providing proper direction. She'd have been cuffed and called empty-headed by this point from her parents. Bodran hadn't, but maybe he had more patience. Or maybe his hands were just full.

"It's this way," she gestured down the north east path. "Our farm borders Maven Blackbriar's property." She led for a couple paces and then, uncomfortable, fell into step beside him.

[comberrywine]

Flowers and Flirts

[bodran-deactivated20150209]

Bodran was oblivious to her reluctance.  As far as he was aware, he was making her life just a little bit easier and she was appreciative.  ’A farm?’  A roll in the hay seemed far more plausible now than it had previously been.  ’I suppose the nearest market is Riften, then?  Your family must bring their goods into the city, yes?’  Bodran’s provincial and quaint understanding of the economics of Skyrim’s farm system was endearing to anyone who didn’t have to listen to it, but they had reached the gate.  With the guards standing at either end awkwardly, waiting for them to pass through, Bodran shifted her belongings in his hands. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t rather me walk you home? There are wolves about.’  And if he knew his milk maids and farm wenches, she had probably been raised by them.

[comberrywine]

Wolves. They didn't usually come out until it was dark, she was sure. But, looking up at the sky, it did seem to be getting darker. And while she could handle herself relatively well on her own, with armfuls of groceries it would be more of a problem.

"Wolves?" She chewed her lip. He was just trying to follow her home. Or get her somewhere in the bushes, like some common girl (she was a common girl, after all). Still, it was awkward to keep standing there while he talked and the guards stared. "If you think you should..."

She had to admit, she wasn't not looking forward to a little more of his company. He was talking to her far longer than most would, and he was handsome. A wicked sort of handsomeness that would get her in quite a bit of trouble if they were seen, but, well, she would deal with that when it came. "Please."

[comberrywine]

Flowers and Flirts

[bodran-deactivated20150209]

‘Just to do the shopping?’ He saw an opportunity to extend her time in Riften. ‘And I presume that you’ve already accomplished all your shopping for today?’

He moved to hold her things, unsure if she would let him or shift them out of his reach.  ’Have a large family, do you?  Outside of Riften, too?’

[comberrywine]

She didn't want to let him have the fruits of her labor, damning as she was sure it would be. She'd never get rid of him while he was holding them. But Comberry was used to taking cues and following directions, and he was still intimidating, so when he reached for her parcels she relinquished them reluctantly.

"I'm done for today." She had no coin for anything else, or she might have ducked into a shop. But the gate wasn't so far away, really. "My family is small, just me and my parents, but it's a farm, so there's workers, and animals, too, that have to be cared for." There were plenty of farms. He wouldn't have to know which farm.

[comberrywine]

Flowers and Flirts

[bodran-deactivated20150209]

'Of course,' he practically crooned, 'Just to the gate.'  That would give him, oh, anywhere from five to fifteen minutes depending on which gate and the route taken.  This meant he had five to fifteen minutes to convince Comberry of his good nature, good character, and good intents.  This would appear to be a nearly impossible feat for anyone who actually knew Bodran, but Bodran enjoyed a challenge.

Bodran sometimes had a squirrel’s memory when it came to most things—where he’d left his keys, what he had for breakfast, the name of the woman in his bed—but he had a memory like a steel trap when it came to pursuing what he wanted.  So he revived a dropped thread of conversation: ‘So you said you only come to Riften every couple of weeks or so?’

[comberrywine]

At least he had agreed to limit it to the gate. She wouldn't know what to do had he insisted on following her home. Besides die on the spot, of course. She couldn't deal with him and then her parents' disapproval. Not that they would approve of anyone she brought home, man or mer. It wasn't fair, but they had raised her and she needed to respect them.

She could still be polite, since Bodran was going through the trouble to walk her, no matter his motives, so she smiled up at him before answering. "That's right. Just to do some of the shopping and to get alchemy supplies. I make small potions at home, just to keep everyone healthy and take care of any minor injuries." That wasn't too much, was it? She hadn't told him where she lived, after all. This was a safe conversation.

[comberrywine]

Flowers and Flirts

[bodran-deactivated20150209]

With speed that would make a Peregrine Falcon look like the Hindenburg, Bodran snatched his parcel and dived towards the door, swooping to open the door further.  ’Ahem.  Allow me.’

He watched her pass over the threshold and into the fresh air.  ’Well why don’t I walk you home?  Riften’s a dangerous place for a young womer!’  Bodran was too caught up in the moment to realise that he was one of those people that made Riften such a dangerous place.  ‘I can even help you carry your things.’

[comberrywine]

Comberry was too flustered at the speed with which he gained the door to protest in any way. She couldn't suddenly decide not to leave, not without going back into the shop, and then there was a possibility he would just wait outside for her. And now he wanted to walk her home.

An image of her mother looking horrified and her father about ready to burst a blood vessel flashed across her mind. He was handsome and he had a Nord's build, but he was also a Dunmer and looked incredibly wicked. And she didn't think he would take no for an answer. But perhaps he'd take a compromise. "Maybe...just to the gate?"

[comberrywine]

Flowers and Flirts

[bodran-deactivated20150209]

Bodran was indeed imagining a roll in the hay, possibly followed by a tumble in the sheets.  ’No, no, no, of course.’  He edged closer, away from his own purchase, ‘I didn’t mean to imply that you were a, ah, a woman of loose morals.’

‘Sir.’

The intonation came from Hafjorg.  Her tone was brusque and forcefully polite.  ’Sir, you still owe me 12 septims.’

Bodran reluctantly counted and handed over the coins, unhappy about taking his attention off of Comberry. 

Gathering his parcel into his arms, he turns his head to make sure the little Dunmer lady is there.

[comberrywine]

Comberry had thought he might take longer with finishing his purchase, and had been edging towards the door. When he turned back and a smile fixed itself on her face, she realized she should have just bolted.

"It was, ah, very nice to meet you, Bodran, but I do have to get home..." She found the handle behind her, turning it, wishing someone might intervene just to help her and not just to get a handful of septims. "If you'll excuse me..." The door is open; and she moves to exit, if he will let her.

[comberrywine]

Flowers and Flirts

[bodran-deactivated20150209]

He glanced over and caught the irritated gaze of Hafjorg, who was still waiting to be paid.  ’Er, yes,’ he said absentmindedly, handing over a handful of coins, which incidentally was the wrong amount.  

It is impolite to berate a lady about her name, so Bodran didn’t bat an eye.  ’It’s a pleasure, Comberry.’  He edged away from his own purchase and the disgruntled Hafjorg to examine hers.  ’Lavender, eh?’  He leered.  ’An aphrodisiac.  Who’s the lucky mer?’ 

[comberrywine]

"A wha--?" Comberry almost dropped her package, recovering swiftly. An aphrodisiac. Gods keep her. He was getting the entirely wrong idea about her, or so she assumed. Next he'd think he could just take her to the stables and roll about with her in the hay!

"N-no, ser, it's for soap." Lavender was wonderful for cleaning, she'd never thought it could be something dirty like that. Thankfully, her parents hadn't, either. They'd have thought she did it on purpose. She had to set this Dunmer straight. Say something convincing! But all that came out was, "I'm not like that."

[comberrywine]

Flowers and Flirts

[bodran-deactivated20150209]

Elgrim’s wife had finished retrieving Bodran’s items—mostly a variety of mushrooms Bodran could not be bothered to forage for himself—and was waiting impatiently for Bodran to pay.  

Bodran’s attention, however, was fixated on the Dunmer.  ’You do, do you?  A pity I have not seen you around here before.  I’m Bodran, by the way.  What do they call you?’

[comberrywine]

He wasn't going to be dissuaded. This knowledge flashed sudden and clear in her mind. She was stuck talking to him, and the longer she talked to him, the more likely one terrible thing or another would happen. He'd find out she was an ignorant Dunmer, or somehow her mother would find out she was speaking to a Dunmer (damning of all, a male). Or, another terrible option, he would laugh at her name. Which was the most likely immediate outcome.

"Comberry." She should someday come up with another name, a better one. She was bad at doing so on the spot. "I think your purchase is ready, Bodran, ser."