Questions, Drinking And A Tavern Brawl
~Aela POV~
She didn't know exactly why she'd invited him for a drink. Neither did she know why she'd even been in that part of the woods around Whiterun.
Today was supposed to be her day-off from her duties for the Companions. A day-off from whipping new recruits into shape or dealing with jobs given to them by whoever paid the right amount of coin. But here Aela found herself, sat across a table with a whelp - a boy no more than sixteen summers old. Though upon first glance, you'd be forgiven if you thought he was older.
He stood taller than the average Nord at 6'4" and even among natives of Skyrim who were used to the cold and harsh nature of their motherland, he was incredibly well-muscled. Yet not overly so like some people she knew. Siegfried, as he introduced himself, was one of the few warriors she'd met that had struck that perfect balance between might and speed while simultaneously taking both to an elite level.
Though there were tells that gave away his age. A slight amount of baby fat around his cheeks and jawline, the youthful tint to his skin and his hands while looking rough still looked soft enough to belong to a boy. But most of all it was his eyes. The way they looked curiously at everything that came into view, intently gazing at it as if to carve it into his mind.
They shimmered in the way every young person's eyes shimmered. The type of shimmer and brightness that tells anyone without it, that this person hasn't seen just how harsh this world can really be.
But she knew not to underestimate him because of it. He'd taken a Giant on, singlehandedly, and Aela knew a hunter when she saw one as well. The whelp moved like a Sabre Cat, that was for sure. But not nearly as good as her, she gave an imperceptible smirk at the thought. But one thing had been troubling her:
Siegfried's race. What he was didn't really matter to Aela per se, it was purely her curiosity that spurned her to think about it.
He had features you'd only really see in a Nord. Light blond hair and sky blue eyes, and yet his skin was far from the light colour she herself had. His skin tone was that of a healthy tanned colour, far rosier and full of colour than a Nord's. At that point she'd be willing to think he was one of the odd one's among the children who were birthed by a Nord and Redguard coupling and took more after the former than the latter while still taking on a darker skin colour. Yet one thing stopped that from being a viable option.
His ears. His ears were pointed. Like an Elf's.
The very idea made her even more curious. She wondered, had an Altmer deigned to sleep with a Nord? She'd be surprised if that was the case. And a Bosmer? She knew they were flexible but they couldn't possibly be THAT flexible, right? To overcome such a size difference? And a Dunmer...well, she wasn't so sure his skin would be so light if he were a Half-Dunmer.
And that all left one final option. Orismer, or an Orc. She watched him eat his third plate of Venison, courtesy of the Elk he'd brought here on the way back from where they'd met. Low and behold, she caught the slightly bigger than normal canine teeth on his bottom jaw. They fit well in his mouth but were basically unable to be seen unless he opened his mouth or smiled. So, for all intents and purposes, Siegfried just looked like a Nord with darker-than-average skin.
Taking a swig of mead, Aela leaned across the table and gave a smirk, "You've done nothing but eat since we got here, Siegfried. How about I get a chance to ask you some questions over some mead? I'll get to know an aspiring Giant Slayer and you can finally get some liquid to go with all that food in your stomach."
He gave a laugh at that after swallowing his mouth full of venison and smiled as he answered, once again showing off the mini-tusks in his mouth, "Sure. I'm sure my coin can take a hit after the extra Giant parts you so graciously let me take," he joked back and held out a hand to a passing waitress.
"It was the least I could do. I'm sure you could've taken on the second Giant even if I wasn't there, whelp," she joked and he gave a laugh that told her more than anything that he was half-and-half on the idea of fighting the second Giant. But her instincts told her more than anything that he could've handled it, and she trusted her instincts more than anything. "So," she started after taking a swig of mead herself, "I assume you were born in Whiterun?"
"Aye," he answered as he took the tankard off the returning waitress and deposited a septim in her now empty hand, "I was born here, grew up here and taught everything I know here. Been hunting since I was six summers old and I've been learning the art of smithing for about five summers now," he stopped to take a long gulp of his mead before putting it back down on the table and continuing, "I would ask about you but I'd have to be deaf and without a brain to not know about Aela the Huntress. I'm pretty sure I've been in this exact tavern and listened to the bards sing ballads about you and the Companions," he joked with a wide smile.
She found herself returning the smile and laughed as she replied, "Hopefully it was only the good ones," she paused to drink before carrying on, gesturing at the war axes as his waist, "You're quite good with those axes - who taught you?"
His eyes took on a nostalgic glaze yet Aela could see a deep pain hid behind it. It disappeared as quickly as it appeared and Siegfried gave her an answer, patting at the axes as he did so.
"My parents. My mother was an Orc, so she favoured dual war axes more than anything and nobody could stop her from teaching me how to fight since the moment I could stand on my own two feet," he reminisced with a laugh, leaning against the table and Aela found herself oddly drawn to learning about the whelp in front of her. "My dad was a Nord, so he wasn't too far behind my mother in teaching me either and he taught me how to use a Battleaxe and how to brawl if I had nothing on me," he paused before gesturing to the lack of a Battleaxe on his back, "I don't take it hunting because it's not really useful out there but it's a real beautiful piece."
Aela narrowed her eyes briefly at the way he was speaking but remembered that deep pain in his eyes from earlier and all the pieces clicked together in her head, "...You speak of your parents in the past tense. Have they passed on?" she asked in a well-meaning way.
"Hm," he nodded, his smile and mirth leaving him, and he downed the rest of his mead, "Do you remember that Troll and Giant raid on the city a few summers ago?" he asked and Aela nodded. She did remember that. She'd been in the thick of it with the rest of her Shield-Brothers and Sisters. Dozens of Frost Trolls and near a hundred Giants stormed Whiterun for reasons only a Troll or Giant could understand. She'd nearly died a dozen times during that battle, her Lycanthropy and prowess being the only things that got her through it.
"They died in that battle," he bitterly said before gritting his teeth a little as he went on, "Too many Trolls and not enough fire," he spat out the last few words in cold anger before raising a hand for a re-fill of ale. Just as soon as his tankard was filled again, it was quickly poured down his gullet.
Aela, in a gesture that wasn't very much like her, reached out and placed a comforting hand on Siegfried's shoulder, "They fought valiantly, Siegfried, so they're no doubt in Sovngarde. Or the Ashen Forge for your mother. Planes of abundance where they can rest and have the rewards they're worthy of."
"Hm," he hummed in response again before a ghost of a smile graced his face again, "Though knowing my mother, she'd try and force her way into Sovngarde to make sure my father stayed loyal and didn't lay with any of the women up there," he joked and Aela gave a chuckle in response.
"Well, if she could get to Tsun and beat him, they'd accept her with open arms," she smiled and took a sip of mead.
"Ha!" Siegfried laughed loudly before taking a bite out of the venison still on his plate, "My mother could be as bullheaded as physically possible, so she'd probably wear him down with constant challenges. She was always like that with father, anyway," he laughed once more but this laugh was a little more sad, "I just hope they're with each other, if there is something beyond the life we live." He forced some energy mirth back into his voice as he spoke, "Enough of that though. They wouldn't want me feeling all sad for them, so why don't we start some serious drinking? I've got the coin and I owe you for saving my hide."
Aela gave a grin and picked up her tankard before downing it, "If you're buying, I'll drink it!" she replied and she knew her competitive nature would push her on even if she didn't feel like drinking. The whelp was already a few tankards ahead of her and her nature just couldn't allow that.
She had no clue why she'd invited him to the tavern for a chat and neither did she know why she'd even crossed his path in the first place. But what she did know was that Siegfried would fit in well with the Companions. Whether it be in appetite or martial prowess. Whatever had pushed her toward meeting him, whether it be fate, the Divines or even Hircine, she cared not. She was curious, yes, but all that mattered in the end is that her instincts told her he'd make a good Shield-Brother.
Maybe Ysgramor was looking down on the Companions from Sovngarde and sending good recruits out way? If that's the case, something bad must be about to happen.
Pushing the thoughts from her head, Aela began drinking and talking further with Siegfried.
Even if there were no mystical or divine reasonings for their meeting, she'd still want to pull him into the Companions. A whelp no more than sixteen summers old and he can take on a Giant? She just wanted to see Vilkas try and say Siegfried wasn't ready to join just to see the brainy twin get a lashing.
. . .
~Siegfried POV~
I stumbled as I stood, the amount of alcohol Aela and I had drunken being enough to nearly drain my coin purse dry. Not that I minded much at the moment as Aela did her own little drunken stumble past some tables on the way to the indoor toilets. She was surprisingly friendly when compared to what I'd heard and her warrior woman appearance.
The thought was caught in my mind when someone addled up to me. I turned to look at him, and took in his appearance. Tall-ish, with black hair and rosy skin, and a build that was neither normal nor exceptional. An Imperial, then.
"What can I do you for, friend?" I asked in a jovial mood brought on by both the mead and the good company I'd been in for the last hour.
The Imperial leaned in closer to me than really necessary and whispered in a conspiratorial manner, "You should be careful who you drink with. She's not the type of company any Divine loving person should ever keep."
"What in Talos' name are you talking about?" I asked with a slightly raised voice, pushing the man backward with a light jerk of my hand, "Stop speaking in riddles and out with it, milk-drinker," I scowled, my jovial mood souring and my already mercurial temper being made worse by the drink in my system. "That woman saved my life against a Giant, and you're trying to speak ill of her?" I looked down at him, standing straight with my chest puffed out. Our size difference became even more clear.
He stood 5'10" with a medium build. Lean muscle wrapped his arms, telling me he wasn't completely foreign to fighting but when compared to my frame and musculature he looked like a child.
"I'm trying to save your life, you Nordling oaf," he spat out, brows furrowing and anger leaking into his tone before he huffed, "But if you don't want to hear it, I'll take my leave."
He turned to leave but my hand stopped him, wrapped around the tunic he was wearing and gripping it so he couldn't walk away without walking away without the tunic. I usually kept a good lid on my anger because as a Half-Orc, letting my anger control me was a single way road to activating my racial ability and if I did that too much I'd seriously injure my internal body. But a combination of the mead in my belly and the fact this complete stranger was talking ill of someone who'd saved me, just blew that lid right off.
I spun him around and threw a crisp and sharp punch right across his jaw. His knees went to soft and he slumped, only being saved from a hard hit to the wooden floor below because I was holding him up. His jaw went slack and his eyes were unfocused - he was completely out after a single hit.
That should've been it. The rude milk-drinker was out for the count and would soon be thrown out. But it wasn't the end.
Because he wasn't alone.
His friends - a Nord and a Bosmer - rushed over and pulled silver daggers from their waist bands. The Nord led the duo and scowled at me, "And for what reason have you hurt my friend, boy?" he growled out and I chucked the unconscious Imperial to the side and I strode up close enough to the Nord that I could spit in his face if I so wanted to but far enough away that he couldn't swing at me with that dagger of his and actually hit me.
"He spoke ill of the person I was drinking with," I frowned at him, looking down my nose at him, "He said I should pick better people to drink with. I'll pass that same advice onto you, kinsman - that milk-drinker was a rude bastard for saying what he said and I paid him back for it."
The Bosmer spoke up next, looking like a child next to me and his Nord friend, "He was giving you a warning, you buffoon!" he snapped out in a nasally voice that was grating on my ears.
"I don't take warnings from strangers," I simply replied before adding, "Especially rude ones."
"Screw this, Lokir, he's obviously aligned with them!" the Bosmer said to the Nord and lunged for me. I wondered who he meant by 'them' for a second but didn't have the luxury for anything longer as I slapped his leading hand to the side, dagger and all, and took a step toward him which allowed me to slam a solid overhand punch right into his ugly little face.
The Nord was quick to react, stabbing at me with more experience than either of the others and I had no time to dodge, so I grabbed the Nord's wrist just before the dagger tip could reach me. His muscles bulged as he tried to push passed my grip but he quickly realised I had him utterly beat in terms of strength. This caused him to flip the dagger in his hand and dig it into the forearm of the hand holding his wrist.
I hissed and hurriedly let go of his wrist, holding the nasty cut on my forearm with my opposing hand. The Nord rushed at me for another stab and this time I had enough time to side step his advance and grabbed his stabbing arm with both of mine.
I wrestled the dagger from his hand, prying his fingers off of it and then sending a back fist right into his nose and knocking his head back. Following it up with a haymaker to the same place, I put the Nord down onto his behind.
Taking deep breaths, I calmed myself before I took it too far and noticed that the redness at the edges of my sight was actually dangerously close to activating my racial ability.
...If that'd happened, I'd have been spending quite some time in the cells in Whiterun.
Before I could think on that any longer, I heard a bang and a groan of pain behind me and I spun to see Aela holding that Bosmer down on the ground not too far from me. From the way the situation had been going, I could only assume the Bosmer had wanted to stab me from behind with a sneak attack but Aela saw and stopped it.
"I really need to stop having you save my behind, Aela," I joked with a jovial smile before striding forward and planting a swift kick to the Bosmer's face. This time I made sure he was out.
Aela gave a huff as she pushed herself up and off the Bosmer, "You need to pay attention to your surroundings more, whelp. That could've gone nasty if I hadn't been here," she admonished before brushing off her leather armor and then looking up at me with a slight grin, "You owe me some more mead, Siegfried. Saved your life twice in one day," she clicked her tongue in a mock telling off way, "I think you should stop by Jorrvaskr so I can whip you into shape. I don't want a talented warrior like you getting done in by something as little as a Bosmer's sneak attack."
That stopped me for a moment. I'd been wondering what to do with my life, especially after waking up with those premonitions...and wasn't this the perfect opportunity? To train with some of the best warriors in Skyrim?
"I might just take you up on that offer to stop by Jorrvaskr, Aela," I admitted with a serious tone before giving her a wide smile as I scratched the back of my head, "Though buying you some mead will no doubt have to wait. I don't want to blow all my septims tonight by spending it on mead, do I?" I gave a laugh that was echoed by Aela.
The redheaded Nord strode up to me and slapped me on the back, "I'd be happy to give you some tips. So stop by Jorrvaskr tomorrow and I can introduce you around. The Companions could use some new blood like you, Siegfried."
Well...I guess it's decided then. I'm going to Jorrvaskr tomorrow. Should be fun, right?