Survivor (A Skyrim Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Eight

Preparations for the wedding had been going on for days.

The next morning after Ulfric proposed to Ingun Black-Briar, the realm was in havoc. Invitations were being sent out, food was being made, outfits being fitted. Even the Throne Room was having a complete new make-over.

Maven Black-Briar, the mother of the bride, insisted on getting a throne made especially so it fit Inguns frame perfectly, and colors and carvings are to be chosen by Maven; not her daughter who was actually going to be sitting in it.

The wedding was to go ahead a week after the engagement, and it's now two days before it's to take place. Erik and I stood in the training yard, watching the new recruits

"That ones stance is wrong," Erik pointed out.

It was true. A young boy around the age of seventeen stood in between two, not great but better trainees.

His posture was slouched, his fingers placed too low and he only drew the string of his bow halfway, making the arrow plummet to the ground. Over and over again, that metal on stone sound went. Arrow after arrow after arrow.

"Look," I stood behind the young boy. "Hand here, fingers here. Stand up straight. Straight I said. Right, now breathe in and pull the string to your chin. Yes all the way to your chin. Now hold."

I stepped back and checked if he was in the correct position. All good.

"Hold...Hold...Hold..." I taunted.

The recruits arms were beginning to shake from the strain and the bow was slightly waving about. It was cruel, but I still found it rather amusing.

"Em, come on," Erik sympathized.

"Alright, alright. Loose!"

It wasn't the best shot I had ever seen, but it was certainly the best this one had done so far. Not a bulls-eye, but at least it was actually on the target.

He took off his badly fitted helm and held it under his arm as he grinned from ear to ear.

"Glad to see you're so happy about hitting something other than the ground, soldier. Keep at what I told you and you'll be just fine."

I nodded to Erik and we made out leave to the Inn. Some off-duty guards had already started filling in as well as the town folk, so it was starting to get pretty busy.

An old serving woman came up and got us a mug of ale each which we were both eagerly looking forward to after a long days work.

"So how are you finding Windhelm so far?" I questioned casually, taking a sip of my drink.

"It's colder than I expected, and not as busy as I pictured it to be."

"What about the people?"

He scratched his chin awkwardly and raised his eyebrows in thought. "They're okay, I suppose. Some are a bit bitter though. Apart from Eyra, of course."

"Apart from Eyra, huh?" I smirked. "Am I wrong in suspecting someone's in love?"

His cheeks and ears had turned a rosy red but he still acted as if everything was perfectly normal.

"Not in love, but I definitely like her. She's the sweetest and most good-hearted person I've ever met."

"That's not me!?" I laughed.

"...You're the second."

He grinned cheekily before taking a sip from his tankard. After setting it down, he clapped his hands once and shifted upright in his seat.