Survivor (A Skyrim Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Nine

I was feeling like a monster.

My thoughts had constantly been tortured by the dread of ending Ingun Black-Briar's life. Ulfric had told me that this will be the better option than just leaving her alone and letting her mother continue her plans, but I still felt unconvinced.

My eyes were surrounded by dark circles from my lack of sleep the night before and my energy was pretty much non-existent.

The Grey Quarter of Windhelm was still inhabited by the Dunmer and I felt their glares piercing into me as I walked head-down to the general store in these parts.

Wooden planks nailed together is what acted as a door to the shop I was heading to, matching the scruffy nature of the rest of the area. I was already feeling unsettled when I entered the shabby store.

"Good day," I greeted as I shook the snow from my shoulders. "You do sell poisons, I assume?"

The dark elf eyed me curiously, "I do... What's the purpose?"

"Skeever infestation," I lied. "It needs to be strong and preferably painless."

He bent down behind the counter and fished around his bottles, then to the shelf behind and searched there. He eventually procured a thin glass phial filled to the brim with purple liquid.

"It's not specifically skeever poison but it'll do the trick. I don't have anything else in stock, I'm afraid."

"What does it do?"

The phial spun between his fingers as he slowly twisted it, admiring it silently.

"Well, it's from the deep sands of Elswyr and it's called 'The Consumer'. It quite simply turns all bodily fluid; whether it be blood, saliva, urine, into this purple poison. It turns the skin the same colour but it wouldn't be noticeable on a skeever."

I threw a pouch of a two hundred septims onto the counter and snatched the phial from the Dunmer's grasp.

"I'll take it."  

And I left the store just as quickly as I had gone in.

As I trudged back to the Palace of the Kings, I contemplated what I had done to deserve this cruel burden. I'm pretty sure I hadn't done anything that bad to deserve this.

With two goblets of Alik'r Gold, the finest wine in Tamriel, I made the walk of shame to Ingun's room and knocked on the door.

Within seconds the door swung open and there Ingun stood with red eyed and puffy eyes from too much crying.

"What is it?" she sniffed, not ashamed of her current state.

I hesitated and thought of something to say. "I heard crying and I thought I would come and comfort you. If you'd like, of course."

She eyed me and then the wine in my hands, lingering on the latter.

"All right, come in then," she mumbled as she stepped aside holding the door.

Her side of the room was still as neat as it had been the other day. All that was different was that there was a mannequin in the corner, wearing a beautiful wedding dress. Ingun caught me staring and said,

"It's beautiful isn't it? It's a shame I don't want to wear it."

She slumped down into one of the three chairs that surrounded the fireplace in the middle of the room. I took a place next to her and handed over goblet that had the poison in it, guilt playing its usual game in my head.

"It really is stunning," I commented trying to distract myself from my thoughts. "Aren't you excited for your wedding?"

Her smile was sad, tired and certainly not genuine. "If it were my mother I was talking to I would put on a false grin and praise Ulfric to the sky, say I wish the day would come sooner... but you're not my mother."