Disclaimer:
The Elder Scrolls series and all related media are the property of ZeniMax Inc. and Bethesda Softworks. Obviously.
Author's Note:
If you are unfamiliar with the Tamriel universe, let me offer a brief description of the different races. Dunmer, or Dark Elf, are a proud but xenophobic elven people with skin the color of shadows and eyes as red as blood. Orsimer—or Orcs—are warrior elves with unshakable courage, greenish skin and a characteristic underbite. Redguards are strong, dark-skinned, wiry-haired, and rich with culture. Bretons are a mix of High Elf (Altmer) and human blood, but by-and-large appear like other pale-skinned human races, although with a more slight build. Nords are the pale blonde humans who live in northernmost Tamriel, their personalities icy with determination and strength. Imperials are the tanned, dark-haired inhabitants of Tamriel's capital, and are shrewd diplomats and traders. Argonians are the reptilian natives of the swamplands, and the race that everyone loves to hate. Khajiit are the cat-like people known and distrusted for their high intelligence and agility.
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ALLIANCE DEFIANCE
Chapter One
The afternoon sun shines down with intense ferocity. Of course, this is to be expected, as it is the beginning of Last Seed, the last month of the summer. Soon, it will be Hearthfire, the time for harvest and celebration among the people. But until then, there is much work to be done.
Three young women sit on bales of hay, hunched over in exhaustion. Two hours of raking hay for Snukh, the stablemaster of Swiftsteed Stables—who just so happens to be Shelb's overbearing father—was absolute torture, but Snukh has been out of commission for a couple of weeks after "accidentally" being shot in the knee by a Lion Guard soldier.
"Why are you all sitting around feeling sorry for yourselves?"
The girls look up to see their friend Jalik smiling down at them, his brown eyes filled with mirth, clearly amused. The hours spent in direct sunlight have deepened his already dark complexion, and there is sweat trickling down his temples. He is leaning on his rake with one arm, his gaze focused on Elera, a fellow Redguard.
Elera does not hesitate to immediately shoot him a glare. "Is that a challenge, Jalik?" Without waiting for an answer, the young woman rises to her feet with her arms folded across her chest and stomps over to where she left her rake, purposely bumping her shoulder against his arm. As Elera passes him, Jalik turns to catch a very obvious glimpse of her ass—or what he can see of it through her robe.
Mary and Shelb glance at each other, their eyebrows raised. Mary knows that the two of them are fooling around behind closed doors, but Shelb has no idea. As an Orc, Shelb would find it strange to publicly share the details of such an activity, especially at their young age, which is why Elera and Jalik find it necessary to put up the façade of not being able to stand each other. Mary, on the other hand—despite her strict upbringing—is a little more receptive to Elera's stories of steamy encounters with Jalik. In a way, it allows her to live vicariously through her friend's promiscuous behavior.
"Come on," says Mary as she stands up, wiping the sweat from her forehead, "let's go join them!"
With a shrug, Shelb runs behind a laughing Mary, who is carrying a bucket of water in her hands. Mary douses Elera and Jalik with some of the cold water, then turns and does the same to Shelb. Feigning offense, Shelb wrestles the bucket from Mary's muddy hands and tips it over her friends' heads. The youngsters are having so much fun that they don't notice an adult approaching them.
"Mary!"
A look of panic settles into Mary's soft facial features. Slowly, she turns around to face the voice. "Yes, Mother?"
"Come. We must do the delivery for the week."
"Yes, Mother." With a final look toward her friends, Mary hands her rake to Shelb and walks toward her mother, hanging her head in embarrassment.
The walk all the way from the stable to their home is silent but for their footfalls. Mary knows her mother is upset with her, but she also wants to alleviate the tension between them. She begins to speak as they take their shoes off to enter the house.
"Mother, I'm sorry, I—"
"You're not sorry, dear. You don't have to lie." Antovina turns to face her daughter. Her facial expression is not what Mary is expecting. Instead of anger, or even indifference, there is fear.
"What's wrong?" She takes an anticipatory step toward her mother.
"Hi, sis!" At the sound of her son's voice, Antovina's sullen expression clears, as if it was never there to begin with.
"Jonan, sweetie, how was school today?" asks Antovina with a strained voice, turning to face her young son with a forced smile on her face.
"It was so fun! We learned about geography today! Did you know, that there's an island called Stros M'kai? I didn't, but I do now!"
"That's great, honey!" Antovina feigns interest in her son's babbling, as many parents do with their young children. But she is happy that he is having a good time and is learning so much. Suddenly, her facial expression changes again. "Mary, the cheese."
"Yes, Mother." Mary heads over to the oven and douses the oven fire with a bit of water from a nearby bucket. She reaches into the heat with the wooden paddle and retrieves the wooden tray of goat cheese slices and cubes, baked to a crispy perfection, with the honey that was drizzled on it bubbling with warmth.
"I made some extra today. See if Raeha is willing to buy a little more than usual. We will need the extra money," Antovina says as she runs her hand through Jonan's dusty light brown hair.
Jonan looks at his sister expectantly, holding his palms outstretched toward her. With a smile, Mary plops a slice of the cheese into his hand before putting the rest of the hot cheese onto a straw plate and covering it with a cloth. Antovina chuckles.
Just as Mary is about to step out of the house, her mother says something that she almost doesn't hear. "Can you fetch some white grapes for me on the way back?"
Humming, Mary pretends she hasn't heard her mother's words and slips her sandals onto her small feet, practically skipping through the neighborhood. People smile and greet her, and she does the same to them.
She opens the door of the temple to find Raeha sitting on the hearth with a book in her hand, surrounded by little boys and girls. They are not separated by race; Redguard, Orc, and Breton children are all wide-eyed and eager to learn about Akatosh, the Dragon God of Time and first deity known to the inhabitants of Tamriel.
Some of the children begin to squirm with excitement when they spot Mary holding her cloth-covered plate, for they know that she has brought them their favorite sweet and salty treat.
With a soft giggle, Mary sits cross-legged beside Raeha and offers her the plate.
"Can everybody tell Ms. Maryona which goddess we learned about today?" asks Raeha sweetly, her fingers lingering on the edge of the cloth, aged eyes twinkling.
"Kynareth!" the excited children proclaim in unison.
"And what is she the goddess of? Can you tell me that?" It is Mary's turn to ask the children.
"The nature!"
"Good job!" Mary coos. "Ms. Raeha, I think they are ready for their treat..."
Squeals erupt from the children as Raeha peels back the cloth to reveal the chunks and slices of goat cheese. They each reach for one and pop them in their mouths, some of them bouncing up and down or happily swinging their heads from side to side as they chew.
One by one, the children's parents come to retrieve them for the evening, and every time the door opens, Mary finds herself shuddering at the coolness of the sunset air.
Once all of the children are gone, Raeha reaches into the pocket of her dress and hands Mary a small pouch. "15 septims. That's all I can spare."
Mary bows her head in gratitude. "Thank you, that is more than enough." She rises to leave but before she can, Raeha speaks again.
"Does your father have enough for Emeric's men?"
Mary pauses mid-step. She is unsure of the answer to that question.
With a deep sigh of empathy, Raeha nods in understanding, although Mary's back is turned and she cannot see this. "Akatosh be with your family."
"Thank you, Raeha. You as well."
Embarrassed, Mary scurries out of the temple, walking briskly away toward the southeastern edge of the Glenumbra Moors, where wild white grapes grow. As she walks, her thoughts turn to Elera and Jalik. They are likely holed up in their abandoned cabin of choice on the outskirts of town. Her ears burn hot at the thought of their rather frequent coition. It always amazes her how Elera manages to escape gravidity. To be with child outside of marriage in Aldcroft would be quite the scandal—she would have to be stoned to death.
It takes her quite a few minutes to make the trek to the Moors, but once there she wastes no time in picking grapes and putting them into the front pocket of her deep yellow waist apron. Humming a hymn to herself, she is completely unaware of her surroundings, and it proves to be detrimental.
Suddenly Mary feels a hand wrap around her waist, and before she can produce a sound of protest, she feels a hand cover her mouth. She stumbles backward, and one of her shoulder blades collides with the cold hard metal of armor.
"You really shouldn't be out here on your own. Something bad could happen to you," he sneers. His warm breath tickles her jaw. She thrashes against him, making muffled yelps and knocking her fists against his chainmail. The smell of cheap beer burns her nostrils. With his free hand, he removes the cowl upon her head and takes in a hearty sniff of her hair before throwing the cowl onto the ground and snaking his hand along the front of her body.
Just as he begins to fondle one of her breasts through the thick material of her dress, there is another voice, further into the Moors. "Oy, Kastian! Where are you? We have to keep moving! Come on!"
"Dammit." The soldier shoves Mary to the ground, onto her hands and knees. She refuses to look up at the man. He pauses. Realizing that she is avoiding eye contact, he grabs her head, jerks it up and positions his groin right in front of her face. "Hopefully I'll see you around, little wench," he gyrates his hips with a smirk, "and I'll fill you up so much, you won't need any of those grapes."
"Kastian COME ON!"
With a bitter laugh, the soldier leaves Mary there in the dirt, dazed and confused with tears in her eyes. She quickly wipes them away, refusing to allow them to spill over, and rises to her feet. As if nothing had happened, she continues filling her apron pocket with more grapes.
