Skyrim One-Shots

Argis the Bulwark x Reader(Female) ~Fast Feet(2)~

A grim frown settled upon your face.

The golden, gleaming gates stood before you. 

Towering.

Shorter than you remembered, then again, you had put on a few inches of height since those younger years.

Who were you kidding, you were just the same height as you were.

With a cold face and even colder eyes, you pushed the gate open, the guards glaring at you underneath their warm helms. 

You looked upon the nearby streets.

The same.

A meat merchant babbled on to the right of you, and you ignored it, heading straight to the inn.

It was neigh dusk; gods knew how long it had been since you'd had a full nights rest not on a bedroll. Your limbs felt heavy as you walked.

You felt like the living dead.

The atmosphere of your home city was grim, dark, and bleak- unwelcoming was an understatement. Before... 

No. You would not think of it. Never. The past is gone.

With accusing glares from a few random passersby, you opened the inn door with a flourish (your cape nearly got stuck in the door as you closed the door behind you) and easily unclipped the dirtied fabric of black dye on your back, slinging it across your arm.

The innkeeper, formerly having a hissing spout with her husband, no doubt, glanced up with a single narrowed brow. The old hag's face formed a rather unimpressed expression before she motioned you up to the main counter. 

Only a few were sat around in the tavern, all of whom seemingly sticking to the shadows. You shifted a quick scan of the 3 patrons.

A man at the bar. Old, 70s, you reckoned, likely a drunkard. Another was passed out near a fire, while the last... A Nord, no doubt, with those shoulders and muscled frame. No mere cloak could hide that. 

A full head of blond hair, too. Sword at his back, a simple pommel. 

Steel armor? Huh. 

You headed to the aging woman. 

"What'll it be, traveler? Don't go causin' no trouble here."

You grinned with a slight hint of something beastly lurking behind it, to which the woman paled slightly. "Trouble finds me, as it happens. A room, 'til the morn."

You tossed a rather overpriced bag of septims on the counter. She curled a lip.

"A generous-"

"Anyone asks for anyone important, it isn't me," you mutter out.

She nodded, swiping the coin with a faltering grin. "Room is to the right, either one."

Without an answer, you walked off to the nearest room you found, entering it and locking it shut before throwing off your pack and unclipping your armor with haste.

Left in nothing but dirty, sweat-smelling underclothing, you let out a small sigh, opening your bag and rummaging around before finding a clean rag to wash the dirt off your face.

A basin of water was already filled no later than an hour ago, and you let the rag soak up water before wringing it out and scrubbing yourself down.

You repeated this some 10 times, needing to completely convince yourself you weren't a monster.

No.

You may have killed Alduin, but you weren't a monster.

Quickly changing into a clean pair of a tunic and trousers, you tugged on leather boots and strapped a thin, deadly blade to your back along with a bow and quivers. A dagger for skinning was quickly strapped to your thigh, and a smaller one just in case was clipped into your boots.