Story Ideas

Yakahirvi the Altmer Rebel: The Child

World: Skyrim

Status: Currently abandoned at 6 chapters on fanfiction.net

Why I wrote it: It was my first ever fanfic. What I have written so far I did when I was 13 with edits for spelling. It was designed to be the first book in a 4 part series; The Child, the Warrior, the Wife, and the Monster. 

  Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11078007/1/Yakahirvi-The-Altmer-Rebel 

Summary:  Elenwen and her 13 year old daughter, Yakahirvi, don't exactly have the closest relationship. But when she sells the child as a servant to Elisif the Fair, a whole new world opens up for the little elf.

Chapter One:

 A jolt wakes me with a start. With bleary eyes, I sit up in the carriage and brush my dress off lightly. Looking around, I see the the tall mountains of the border behind us and breathe a sigh of relief. I have a small fear of trolls, and it is rumored that they inhabit the Jerall Mountains, but I did not see one in our three day journey through them.

Elenwen, my mother, looks over at me and puts an arm on my shoulder.

"Soon my dear," She says gently, "We will board our ship home. I only wish to communicate to Solitude about the terms of the Gold-White Concordat, and then we'll be off. I just hope these wretched Nords and their foolish rituals don't become any more of a problem." I look away from her face and stare off into the distance. Of course. All my mother ever cared about anymore was that stupid treaty and everyone following it. It is actually quite amazing how quickly she can steer a conversation towards the matter.

As our carriage moves into a thin assortment of trees, I frown. The whole war had been stupid. How is it our problem the Empire had encouraged the worship of Talos?

Of course everyone can agree that Tiber Septim had been alive and founded the Empire all by himself. But even I, with an open mind, wonder how he had managed to become a god. I did of course want to learn more on the subject, but as you might be able to tell, on Summerset Isle, all of my teachers despise even the idea of another god than Auri-el, Trinimac, Magnus, Syrabane, Y'ffre, Xarxes, Mara, Stendarr, Lorkhan, and Phynaster. The Nords have other gods anyway: We both share Mara and Stendarr, but they worship Shor, Kynareth, Dibella, Arkay, and a few others I have forgotten. I honestly pray to Mara the most, because love is really the most needed thing in Nirn right now.

The trees become thicker as we go, and soon evolve into a forest, and the horses pulling the carriage stop. My mother jumps out angrily and stomps over to the coachman.

"What is the meaning of this?" She asks him angrily. The short man, an Imperial, shrugs his shoulders.

"There is nothing I can do ma'am." He answers gruffly. I look at his light brown skin and compare it to me and my mother's pale yellowish hue. Before I had been in school, I had never been exposed to anyone other than my mother or her houseguests, all of whom were Altmer like me. So when I walked into my first day of school, I nearly fainted at the sight of a Redguard girl standing right in front of me. How different her skin was from mine!

Since then I have gotten used to the different kinds of people in Tamriel, but I still am amazed at the variety of races there are. Redguards, Nords, Imperials, Bretons. I was just as surprised, however, when I saw a cat and a lizard talking together in the market in the Imperial City last week. My mother explained to me that they were Khajiits and Argonians when I asked. She also explained the difference between vampires and Orcs, but I still think that anything that has pointy teeth protruding from its mouth should be called a vampire.

I see my mother walking back to me, her face strained. "This young man," She said between clenched teeth, "Has told us to walk to Falkreath and refuses to let us borrow his horses." She shoots a deadly glare at him.

I see the Imperial cower under her gaze, relaxing only after she has turned back to me. I look down at my walking boots. My mother absolutely loathes them, but I prefer them over the expensive footwear she picks out for me.

We start our hike at around noon, and stop frequently for my mother to "calm down", which includes her swinging large branches at trees, screaming profanity. I am careful to never repeat her language, but sometimes I let a swear word or two slip when I am home alone.

After my mother is done with her tantrum, we then continue our silent walk in the forest, my mother continuously tripping on hidden roots my smaller feet simply ignore. I have rarely seen her freak out like this before, with her calm dignity she usually keeps torn to shreds. I try not to stare too hard at her, because I can tell she is embarrassed to let me see her so out of control, but I can't help but keep glancing over at her usually neatly split blonde hair falling over her sweaty face.

Finally, after the sun has nearly set, we reach a farm. I see my mother try to resume her usual coolness, pulling back her hair and taking deep breaths. After she is ready, we approach the farmhouse and knock.

A Nord man answers the door. "Who are you?" He asks. I sense a sort of tiredness from him, and he obviously has circles under his eyes. But there seems to be something else, that makes him sound..... hollow, I guess. My mother smiles calmly.

"I am Elenwen, leader of the Thalmor Embassy, and this is my daughter, Yakahirvi. We only request directions to Falkreath." The man narrows his eyes.

"And what is the leader of the Thalmor doing in Falkreath?"

"I beg your pardon sir, but I was under the impression that I had permission to go wherever I please." She has an edge to her voice. I look from one to the other, sensing tension between them. I am so used to the almost fake welcomes in Cyrodiil, it is a shock to be treated with less than respect here.

The man snorts. "Falkreath is just north of here." My mother then dips her head to him and says,

"Very well. Thank you for your time." As we turn around, I can feel the Nord's gaze burning into me before he slams the door. I look up at my mother and see her face is hardened and strained. We head just right of the orange sunset, and soon we reach the crest of a hill. Underneath us is the city of Falkreath.

Notes:

Sorry if the names seem non-lore friendly, but I will be keeping them. If you liked this and would like the story to continue, vote on this chapter! Until then, you can see the other 5 chapters on fanfiction.net