[skyrim] ★ A Question of Agency
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plotdevicedTitle: A Question of Agency
Fandom: Elder Scrolls: Skyrim
Challenge: 146 - Voice @fan_flashworks
Rating: PG
Length: 550 words
Content notes: N/A
Author notes: Two original characters (OMC Dragonborn, OFC Follower) following generally a main questline path. Mostly canon compliant. No pairings. Originally posted here.
Summary: Knowledge rarely trumps experience.
"You've been rather quiet since dinner," Irfon ventured, watching Daulinna unbuckle her bracers, and set them atop her pack before moving onto the laces of her cuirass. He noted her hands slow, just for an instant, before they resumed their normal deft movements as she glanced up at him.
"Have I?" she returned lightly. "In a place where three of the four inhabitants are unable to speak without causing structural damage, I'd have thought I was one of the louder ones in High Hrothgar this evening."
The battlemage sat on the stone bed — not something he was looking forward to sleeping on, without even a straw mattress to top it, but that was something he'd worry about later — and shook his head at her reply. They'd been traveling together long enough now for him to know that Daulinna often redirected topics with humour, and while Irfon did not mind most of the time, he preferred directness when the subject matter was this important.
"Are you still angry that Arngeir tried to send you away?" he asked, watching her back as she pulled her armor over her head and laid it across the foot of her matching stone bed. "It wasn't personal, it was only for--"
"For my safety, yes, I recall what he said."
Irfon blew out a frustrated breath. "Would you please stop and speak to me directly? You're being petty about this, and it doesn't suit you. I told you that I was--" Even now, it was strange to say it aloud; he soldiered on, regardless. "--Dovahkiin. Dragonborn... because of what happened to me at the Western Watchtower. I know we hadn't met at that point, but I would like to think I've given you no cause to... think that I was lying about something like that."
Daulinna had turned at his accusation of being petty, red eyes narrowed at his gall, but she maintained her silence and listened. Not only to his words, but to the way he said them. This is enormous to him, too. He's right, julikal kili... you are being petty.
"It's not that I thought you were lying," she said finally, sitting across from him. "It's only that, knowing something and experiencing it for yourself, are two very different things. If they weren't, you'd have never left High Rock, because you could have read or heard about Skyrim instead. It's not the same as being here, is it?"
Irfon uttered a hollow laugh at the comparison. "The way the Greybeards speak of it, I'm beginning to wonder if coming here was my own agency at all," he said. "For all this power they say that I have, for all the mastery my Voice will supposedly bring... I don't feel very in control of myself right now, let alone my life or supposed destiny. Now Arngeir wants me to retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller from his tomb in Ustengrav. Do you know it?"
Daulinna nodded, mentally placing it on a map; she could show him on a proper one later. "It's out in Hjaalmarch, in the marshlands. That's a long way from here, even without those damned 7000 steps," she said. "Are you going to do what he asks?"
"Well," Irfon replied, attempting a smile. "That is the question, isn't it..."
Fandom: Elder Scrolls: Skyrim
Challenge: 146 - Voice @
fan_flashworksRating: PG
Length: 550 words
Content notes: N/A
Author notes: Two original characters (OMC Dragonborn, OFC Follower) following generally a main questline path. Mostly canon compliant. No pairings. Originally posted here.
Summary: Knowledge rarely trumps experience.
"You've been rather quiet since dinner," Irfon ventured, watching Daulinna unbuckle her bracers, and set them atop her pack before moving onto the laces of her cuirass. He noted her hands slow, just for an instant, before they resumed their normal deft movements as she glanced up at him.
"Have I?" she returned lightly. "In a place where three of the four inhabitants are unable to speak without causing structural damage, I'd have thought I was one of the louder ones in High Hrothgar this evening."
The battlemage sat on the stone bed — not something he was looking forward to sleeping on, without even a straw mattress to top it, but that was something he'd worry about later — and shook his head at her reply. They'd been traveling together long enough now for him to know that Daulinna often redirected topics with humour, and while Irfon did not mind most of the time, he preferred directness when the subject matter was this important.
"Are you still angry that Arngeir tried to send you away?" he asked, watching her back as she pulled her armor over her head and laid it across the foot of her matching stone bed. "It wasn't personal, it was only for--"
"For my safety, yes, I recall what he said."
Irfon blew out a frustrated breath. "Would you please stop and speak to me directly? You're being petty about this, and it doesn't suit you. I told you that I was--" Even now, it was strange to say it aloud; he soldiered on, regardless. "--Dovahkiin. Dragonborn... because of what happened to me at the Western Watchtower. I know we hadn't met at that point, but I would like to think I've given you no cause to... think that I was lying about something like that."
Daulinna had turned at his accusation of being petty, red eyes narrowed at his gall, but she maintained her silence and listened. Not only to his words, but to the way he said them. This is enormous to him, too. He's right, julikal kili... you are being petty.
"It's not that I thought you were lying," she said finally, sitting across from him. "It's only that, knowing something and experiencing it for yourself, are two very different things. If they weren't, you'd have never left High Rock, because you could have read or heard about Skyrim instead. It's not the same as being here, is it?"
Irfon uttered a hollow laugh at the comparison. "The way the Greybeards speak of it, I'm beginning to wonder if coming here was my own agency at all," he said. "For all this power they say that I have, for all the mastery my Voice will supposedly bring... I don't feel very in control of myself right now, let alone my life or supposed destiny. Now Arngeir wants me to retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller from his tomb in Ustengrav. Do you know it?"
Daulinna nodded, mentally placing it on a map; she could show him on a proper one later. "It's out in Hjaalmarch, in the marshlands. That's a long way from here, even without those damned 7000 steps," she said. "Are you going to do what he asks?"
"Well," Irfon replied, attempting a smile. "That is the question, isn't it..."
