A Series of Daedric Events (a Skyrim fanfiction)

Chapter Six - A Night to Remember

The Ebony Blade makes me feel nervous. I haven't used it, but sometimes I feel like I can hear it whispering to me when I sleep. I dream of stabbing Sofie, of stabbing my mother and of stabbing my brother. The dreams terrify me and I begin to get noticeable bags under my eyes. 

"Is something worrying you, pet?" Uncle Farkas asks. 

"Not exactly," I rub my eyes. "Just...worried about the Dremora War. The usual,"

"I suspect we'll pull through," Uncle Farkas shrugs. "The Champion of the Daedra has to be out there. The Daedric attacks are...slowing down. Something is better in the air. I can't explain it,"

That's a small comfort. That I'm making some kind of difference to Tamriel, even if I haven't acquired many of the artifacts that I need yet. It makes me wonder why Hermaeous Mora hasn't done anything about it. Surely he must be weakening slightly as I gain each Daedric artifact? Or is he really so arrogant that he thinks he can defeat me when I've got all of the artifacts? I glance at myself in the looking glass and then conjure up an image of Hermaeous in my mind. I'd be arrogant too, if I were him. 

But tonight, I'm putting those thoughts aside. Tonight Blaise is coming home for a visit and Marcurio is finally coming to Whiterun to spend more time with me. Riften has gotten more dangerous and I offered him a home in Breezehome, which he gladly took. I don't think my parents mind so much.

"Your friend is very handsome," Blaise raises his eyebrows when Marcurio steps into the Bannered Mare. "Is there anything..."

"Absolutely not," I scoff. "He's Marcurio,"

Marcurio joins us. "Ah, you must be the wonderful Blaise I've heard so much about,"

"I've heard a lot of things about you too," Blaise replies. 

"All good things I hope," Marcurio replies. "Who's for some Black-Briar Mead?"

We get several rounds of Black-Briar Mead. The songs in the tavern get louder, the drink gets stronger and everything begins to feel better the more I drink. The more my worries melt away. Even Blaise has had some tankards of mead and he usually stays far away from anything alcoholic. Weirdo. 

A man dressed in black robes joins me, Blaise and Marcurio at our table. "Hello there, friends. My name is Sam Guevenne,"

"Greetings, friend," Marcurio grins. "Will you drink with us?"

Sam looks at me. "You look like someone who can hold their liquor. How about a friendly contest to win a staff?"

"A drinking contest?" I ask smugly. "You don't stand a chance!"

Hopefully I haven't inherited my father's intolerance for alcohol. I've never pushed my boundaries to see how much I can take. 

"Ha! We'll see about that!" Sam looks delighted. He goes to the bar and returns with a large bottle of...something. "This is a special brew, very strong stuff. Let's get started,"

"Knock 'em dead," Blaise responds, and that's how I know he's had too much to drink. 

"I'll start round one," Sam lifts his tankard. "Down the hatch!"

He drinks and the boys cheer. "You can do this, Luce," Marcurio slaps me on the back.

"Your turn," Sam nods at me and fills my tankard. 

"Here we go," I respond and down the drink as fast as I can. It's sweet-tasting stuff. 

"One down, my friend, one down!" Sam exclaims. "And another one for me,"

Sam drinks. 

"You can win this babygirl," Marcurio says confidently. 

"And how about you?" Sam inquires.