Survivor (A Skyrim Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Four

I sat alone on a wooden chair in front of the fire pit. A small mug of ale was on the floor next to where I was sitting, long forgotten about. I couldn't remember how it got there; whether Erik had put it down there, the serving women did or if I got it myself. I was too tangled up in my own thoughts take any mind of the beverage right now.

The same question ran through my mind, and there didn't seem to be an answer in sight. Why didn't Alduin appear? The dream was the same time and time again, apart from last night.

There's just something not right.

It's just a dream, it's not real. I should just move on from it and forget it.

I looked around the room to find Erik at the front counter of the long hall talking to the Innkeeper. Gunjar came through the door with Erik's many bags of luggage in each hand and my small knapsack slung over his shoulder.

He looked absolutely exhausted. With a loud thud, our bags were dropped onto the floor and he slumped into an empty chair across the room.

"I need a drink," Gunjar sighed, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"I'll get it for you."

I sauntered up to the counter and stood quietly next to Erik, who was still in mid-discussion with the old and grubby innkeeper.

"Yes, we're on our way to Windhelm for Ulfric's feast. It's meant to be quite the event," Erik said excitedly.

"Aye, Windhelm! I remember when my mam took me there when I were just a boy. Wonderful stonework. Big, tall buildings. You'd enjoy it there I'd say," the innkeeper heartily replied. "Now, how many of you are there?" He eyed Erik and me with a kind smile.

"Three, and separate bedrooms if it's possible."

"Aye, three bedrooms it is. Don't get too many customers in these cold parts. Only get frozen travelers looking for a quick drink and a warm fire to sit by. Not that it bothers me; I get plenty of money from that mysterious Orc. He might as well live here with the time he's stayed."

The old man who's name I learnt to be Hadring babbled on as he lead us to our rooms, not stopping until I interrupted him for that mug of ale Gunjar wanted some twenty minutes ago.

Finally with what I had gone up for, I returned to the fire pit to find Gunjar fast asleep on his chair. I set down the mug next to the side of the chair as quietly as I could, careful not to disturb the carriage driver's loud snores.

Our bags were still on the floor where Gunjar had left them, so I took it upon myself to carry them to our rooms. Luckily, they were just on the other side of the hall.

I waddled into Erik's room, struggling with his massive and over-packed bag, and found him sitting on the edge of his bed staring into space. Hadring had finally gone, probably to attend to that mysterious Orc he had been talking about.

"You alright?" I asked, setting his bag down.

He remained silent before letting out a long sigh and letting out a short nervous laugh.

"I'm... I'm scared, Em. What if Windhelm isn't all what I expected it to be? It's been my dream for years to visit that city."

His normally bright green eyes have been replaced with a dark jade, and as he looked into mine I noticed they no longer shone with excitement and joy as they had only that morning. I sat down next to him and took his coarse hand in mine, squeezing gently.

"There's no need to be afraid," I laughed, "it's only a city. I'm sure Windhelm'll live up to your expectations if disappointment is what you fear."