The Crown of Bone(Skyrim Fanfic)

Chapter 1: The Iron Mandible

Every sip from the brass cup he held in his hand did little to drown out the sounds of merriment that took place within the walls of the inn. The Bannered Mare was the only tavern that stood within the walls of Whiterun but nothing about it screamed regal or satisfying, at least not to him. During his travels, he had seen many beautiful sanctuaries, temples and homes of nobility -even abandoned Dwemer ruins and Draugr resting grounds seemed more appealing than the bar to him. Although the walls were made of brick and mortar; the basic building material for any other homestead. The building had a tavern area that people immediately walked into from the front entrance; an adjoined kitchen on the left with a central roasting spit; bar area residing on the right close to the entrance and two sets of steps leading to separate bedroom areas sat at the back of the inn. Benches stood guard around a fire pit that held flames boastfully. The beverage the warrior drank was of the Honningbrew Meadery located just outside of Whiterun but to his daring tongue, it was not bold enough. His mother had always found him difficult and his brother always warned of where his coercive nature would lead.

"Not too much there. Don’t wanna stumble into the arms of a bandit on your way out of Whiterun"

He looked at the burly woman who sat across the table as she watched him through amused eyes. Her smile was one of boyish challenge as her emerald eyes tempted him to a battle of wit.

"Name's Uthgerd. I've earned the title 'Uthgerd the Unbroken' here."

Uthgerd had short, fair hair but her face showed the years spent training and travelling; her complexion was wrinkled and blotched on certain areas. He didn't seem impressed by her steel plate armor even though it was considerately constructed. Her talkative nature annoyed him, as well, making it seem to him as if she were some kind of posing figure instead of an actual fighter. Although he had heard tell of her incident regarding the Companions (Uthgerd could be considered a brute after accidentally murdering a boy she was supposed to defeat in battle), he did not feel as if she were worthy of any pity. Her force was to be her own burden and that of no one else’s.

"Wanna hear a bit of Nord wisdom? You don't know a woman until you've had a strong drink and a fistfight with her."

Uthgerd's persistence began to agitate him even more but he tried to drown out her voice with his bland bottle of Honningbrew mead as much as he possibly could. The spiceless and tasteless liquor began to sting his tongue the more he drank it, but he couldn't complain to Hulda about her narrow preference: she'd kick him out.

A dear friend had told him of Riften's best wares: mead by an esteemed family known as the Black-Briars. The most feared of all social hierarchies, the Black-Briars would be considered royalty in Riften -even the Jarl did not gain as much fear as Maven Black-Briar did. Black-Briar mead was pricey even for the deepest pocket, but his dear friend would have been able to provide the mead for less than half the gold. As a traveller and mercenary, he found it strange that his 'drinking buddy' had not arrived with the proposed goods as yet. If it happened to be any later than sunset, he would have to rent a room and stay another dreary day in Whiterun.

Downing the last bit of liquor in his cup, the warrior's attention focused on a young woman with golden hair and amber eyes as she entered the dull yet almost completely occupied inn. Her skin was pale and without flaw, and her olive dress garb hugged her body well, showing off every curve. Never had he beheld such ethereal beauty and even though her personality was a mystery, he could tell that she had the darkest intentions by the way she hid that blade in her sleeve beneath her cape.

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"It is done."

Standing before the blonde-haired Nord, she held her hand toward him. His blue eyes laughing, Valdin dug into his satchel and exposed a pouch filled with gold pieces. Placing it sensually into her palm, Valdin began to flirt his handsome smile and hope that the girl's cheeks would flush the red he had seen on the mountain flowers. Instead, she stood staring at him in disgust. Valdin had led her to the room he had rented in the hopes of wooing her -or having the opportunity to touch her bare skin and leave her without a piece the following morning. She was aware of the Nordic beliefs and faith, but he seemed to forget his cultural faithfulness to Talos.

"Three hundred pieces. I'm sure it’s enough compensation for my contract and the extra task I had requested."

Turning around to collect his belongings as they cluttered the table in his rented room, Valdin had his back facing her.

In a minute, she had driven her dagger into his back as he screamed into her free hand that held his mouth. A few seconds was all it took his body to slump and drop to the wooden floor. An assassin requested from Sithis and the Night Mother was not to be underpaid. The standard amount she had collected from her contacts was three hundred gold and Valdin had thought he had actually fooled her into believing he was paying her enough.

Emptying his satchel and his person, she was pleased to discover three flawless sapphires, a large pouch filled with gold pieces and a silver necklace.

"Talos bless you, Valdin..." moving toward his carcass, the assassin drove a pick she had smithed into Valdin's chest, "and may the Daedric princes torment your soul."

Grabbing the now empty satchel, she stashed her new-found treasures inside and snuck out. Walking down the stairs, she ensured that no blood stains had made their way onto her dress or her cape. Confident that her clothes were clean, the assassin headed for the exit. A hand stopped her as it grabbed hold of her arm and tugged gently. Judging by the grip, she could tell it belonged to a man of muscular build and tireless training in the art of either axe or two-handed sword wielding.

"Wait"

The voice was nearly harmonious but strong and manly; threatening and understanding even in its silence. Turning to face the brave soul who had dared take hold of her, she was impressed to see a warrior of fine build and handsome appearance: chiseled features, silver eyes, blonde hair and a white-toothed smile that betrayed his tough exterior. His light-skinned body seemed at ease beneath the heavy iron armor he wore. If not for his sword and affable choice of armor, she would have thought him a perverted barbarian.

"You have no business touching me, traveller"

The strange travelling warrior laughed at her response to his need to gain her attention. She wondered what about her amused him -he appeared unaware of her true capabilities.

"I'm no traveller. Name's Carak: mercenary for hire and warrior....if the price is ripe. You're an assassin, I take it?"

Shock rippled through her body like teardrops falling into a calm lake and awaking the sleeping waters, but unlike the lakes she did not show how his objective eye had shaken her.

"Preposterous perception"

"Young lady, you are beautiful but not that much of a silver-tongue. What is your name?"

Wincing at the sound of being called beautiful, the young assassin decided to take a gamble at telling Carak her name.

"Rayne."

"Rayne..."

A warm smile spread across Carak's lips as he said it. Rayne had seen that exact expression the first time she had left the Sanctuary to take on her first contract. She did not feel comfortable at the thought of being the prize another man hoped he needn't pay too high a price for. Rayne had sworn herself to Sithis and she did not find the thought of being the wife of a barbarian a comfort in the least. Mother would not endorse her selecting a relationship without her blessing -even though the blessing was the mark of death.

"I would like to speak with you, Rayne"

Sensing Carak's interest in her line of work, Rayne immediately thought of a plan of action to get free of his grip and his curiosity. Pulling away from the warrior, Rayne let out a scream of false desperation in an attempt to gather the attention of the drinking men gathered round the fire. Everyone inside diverted their attention to the pair, stood up and headed toward Carak. Even Saadia and Hulda were prepared to aid the woman they thought was an ailing damsel. As angry faces swarmed Carak, Uthgerd drank to his misery whilst Rayne donned the hood of her cape and slipped out of the inn, laughing as yelling erupted from the tavern behind her.