#Flint skyrim | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

khajiit-apologist · 6 days ago

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word count: 3656

This was my first ever Flintfic I wrote. If you haven't played Flint the Minotaur, do! Do it now!

Samhain always preferred the more remote inns of Skyrim, even before she began traveling with an eight-foot-something minotaur. Flint liked the drinking more than the inn, and he’d say it was the only reason he tolerated it. They had a third companion, Gore. He also loved drinking, and would always light up when they could stop. This time they had found themselves in Nightgate Inn, one of Samhain’s favorite inns. The atmosphere was depressing, the three of them being the only patrons. Though, it was better than being in the harsh weather of The Pale. Samhain thanked the innkeeper as she gathered three tankards in her hands, being careful not to drop them. Her first stop was Flint, who refused to sit down. Instead, he leaned against one of the pillars in the far back. He tried his best to hide, she guessed, even though he was hard to miss. His eyes were far away as she approached, her footsteps quiet.

Clearing her throat she spoke, holding the hot mead out to him, “Here.”

“Oh, yeah.” His voice was gruff, distant. He took the mug from the hand she had outstretched, avoiding looking at her. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, debating if she should ask. “Need something else?”

She was snapped from her thoughts, shaking her head, “No, sorry.” He finally looked at her, seeing her head hung. If anyone asked him what she looked like he probably couldn’t give a good description. Even though it had been a few months since they started traveling together. She always hid her face from him, from everyone. He thought it was strange that she tried to hide as if she could. She mumbled something and then started walking towards Gore. Who’s face lit up at her approach. Flint sighed, finally being left alone. He swirled the beverage in his cup, once again distracted by something.

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“Thanks, Sam!” Gore took a tankard from Samhain before she sat down. He had chosen a bench, granted the seating was sparse. “Something wrong?” He watched as she sat down, a frown clear on her face.

“It’s stupid.” She spoke plainly, face turned away from him.

“Doubt that. Whatever it is, you know you can talk to me about it.” He took a big swig of his mead, “You know this isn’t that bad, hit or miss with this place.”

She nodded, only half listening. It wasn’t uncommon that she would get distant too, sometimes all three of them would stare off into nothing. Her lips parted to speak, but at first, nothing came out. She looked at Gore, who raised his brows expectantly, “Do you think Flint likes me?”

He tried to hide his laughter, covering his mouth with his hand. Then he calmed down and spoke, “Well I don’t know if he likes life.” Another snicker left him, “So I wouldn’t worry.” He shook his head as he took another drink.

“But I do worry.” She turned her head away, running her fingers over her mug, “It confuses me.”

“How, exactly?” Gore leaned on his hand.

Her shoulders relaxed as she thought, “Sometimes he bears his heart on his sleeve, or at least in a very ‘Flint’ way. But then he gets mad at me like I said it.” A small smile decorated her lips, “I rarely speak when he does, so I don’t know why he gets upset when he’s the one talking.”

“Right. Not that I ever listen on purpose, I do notice that too. I don’t think it’s you he’s mad at, Sam.” His words were barely a whisper.

“You think so?” Her eyebrows bent upwards.

“Yeah, I’ve met people like him. They are more angry at themselves than anything. You and him handle pain differently. He doesn’t think he needs help, and you do anyway. That’s just you, and that’s fine.” He put his hand on her arm, squeezing it.

She put her free hand over his, nodding as she took in his words. “Yeah… I’d like to thank him in some way. But how do you tell the big scary minotaur ‘Thanks for being around!’” They silently laughed at that. Her expression changed, an idea popping into her head. “What about gold? He’s never asked to split it, but maybe that’s a good start?”

“Sure, sure.” He was slightly unconvinced but humored her.

“Then that’s what I’ll do!” She exclaimed. Gore went back to drinking as she set to work splitting a sum of gold. She smiled as she finished, proud of her work.

Flint had just finished his drink when he saw Samhain lift from her seat. He deflated as he saw her make her way to him. He mumbled something about needing another drink, but she was still out of earshot. Like clockwork, he closed himself off by crossing his arms.

When she got arm's length away she held out the coin purse, “Here.” She said quietly, avoiding Flint’s confused look.

“What?” He just looked between her and the purse. Her hand twitched, a habit he had noticed before, but he made no move to take it.

“Because you've helped me out, with bandits and…stuff.” Her excuse was improvised, knowing the truth would unnerve him. “Doesn’t matter.” She quickly tacked on, her eyes closed for a moment. Her head hung low, almost like she was ashamed.

“Keep it.” His words were blunt, “I don’t shop, ever.”

Dropping her outstretched arm, she looked at the small pouch in her hand, “Mhm.” Suddenly she felt really small and a little stupid. “I’d just like to show that I like having you around.” The words were shaky, she already regretted saying it out loud.

He laughed, “That’s-”

“Stupid… I know.” She laughed sadly but oddly looked up at him. After latching the pouch back on her belt, she rubbed her arm nervously. “Em…” There was more she wanted to say but didn’t know how. She ran her hand down her arm, settling to fidget with her fingers, “Sorry.” Her eyes found him, the angle fully exposing her face.

He scoffed, “For what?”

She shifted her weight, “For, em… Forget it.” Her head ducked again, breaking the eye contact, “Anyway, if there’s anything I can do, let me know.” Despite sounding like a farewell, she didn’t move.

She puzzled him. He looked around the empty inn, “Can I ask you something?” He went back to looking at the top of her head.

“Sure.” She continued looking at the floor.

“Why do you care so much? What I think about you shouldn’t matter.” He adjusted his posture, not expecting an answer.

Predictably she shrugged, mouth opening to speak but saying nothing. “I dunno.”

“Great!” Sarcasm is clear in his voice. “Though I have another question since you’re so open.” She merely nodded at his statement, lifting her head finally. “How do you…talk to people so easily?” He cleared his throat, “I mean besides me, but everyone else.” He trailed off. “I guess it just bothers me.”

“Sorry.” She looked up pleadingly.

“Yeah.” He glanced at her.

She thought for a moment, determined to give him a good answer, “You might not ever notice, because you're probably more focused on the looks you get. But it isn't easy for me either. Between the eyes, how nervous I am, and my gaunt features; I know I make people nervous.” She swallowed, “I don’t mean to make it about me. My point is, people will judge something they see as different. Whether it be a girl with dead eyes or a minotaur. That’s why…” She trailed off when her voice shook, “I'm happy to be here for, em, you.” She ended her sentence with a nod and wrapped her hand around her wrist. Matters of the heart for her too, let alone with someone who had shown no interest in ever being vulnerable. This was the longest she had ever looked at him. He had never really noticed her features before. It was true, her eyes were strange. Her whole face was to him, but he kept it to himself.

“Thanks…for answering…or whatever.” However, he noticed she hadn’t given him an answer, “Wait you didn’t answer. People do talk to you. Don’t pretend you are some outcast. I’m only let in places because of you.”

She shook her head, “No. They talk to me because I’m… Dragonborn.” Her voice was strange, blunt. There was a hint of disgust too. It was the same tone of voice she used with merchants and the like. “That is not helpful to you, so I said don’t worry about it.” She ran a hand over her face, a flash of frustration. “You,” A sigh left her, “You don’t really know what it was like before that. When I was…worse.” Her tone was even, but distant.

He cleared his throat, “No, I don’t. I just can’t imagine it being so bad. I’m a minotaur, a beast, people will always see a monster. I don’t think you’re going to relate to that. Even if you try.” His voice was bitter and pointed, and his eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, alright.” Her jaw clenched as she looked away, a sigh leaving her lungs. She, for a moment, looked up expectantly. Hoping he would, for once, stop trying to fight.

“What? Can I go back to drinking in peace?” He bit back, mistaking the expression for pity. In the past when they would talk like this she would simply nod and walk away. Her lingering near him still was different, frustration bubbled up. He was about to speak before she did instead.

“I don't have to explain myself on this, but I will. Before I freed you from that cell, things were very different for me. People saw me as a freak too, and they still do! I see how their smiles twitch, or eyes go wide for a second. Then suddenly I am this great hero. Sometimes I think people are even more scared of me now! It's been that way since…since I changed. Not to mention, people assume I am blind. They’ll not even hide their distaste for me. To you, I am not tall, but to everyone else I am! I scare people! Despite this I am still kind, that’s my big secret. It's not all about you Flint. I don’t know why you do this! Or why I try to help you! You ask for advice, and then you just…just!” Her voice cracked, anger coming to the surface. It was usually soft, sometimes so quiet he'd have to ask her to repeat herself. She clenched her fists at her sides, shaking her head, “Whatever. Get some rest.” She waved her hand before crossing her arms. She hid her face from Flint as she turned, briskly walking away to join her other companion.

Flint’s chest hurt, making him clench his fists. Usually, her anger was towards enemies, not him. There was a strange feeling within himself as he watched her walk away. He didn’t move and didn’t continue the fight. He watched Gore ask if she was okay the second he noticed her. Flint clenched his jaw as if he was bracing for something. She shook her head. “Weak.” He said under his breath, his eyes found the empty tankard in his hand. The one she paid for. He put it on a nearby table, hard. Stomping out of the inn, the cold hit him instantly. The scene he caused didn’t matter to him, not with this unfamiliar anger rising in his chest. It hurt him, physically. His breath was heavy, chest rising and falling quickly. He wanted to smash someone’s head in, instead he fumed silently next to where they had tied their horses. He paced, slowly starting to recognize the feeling of nervousness. He fought the urge to run, but he couldn’t exactly go anywhere else. Despite himself, he knew he should stay close. Something inclined him to look at the door to the inn, and that same pain shot through him. He was used to being angry, it was rare he never felt that way. He scoffed, but no one was there to scoff at. The door swung open, and Samhain stood for a second. It wasn’t hard to spot him since he was taller than the horses, and pacing back and forth. Gingerly she made her way to him, hugging her arms to her chest. She stopped only when she was in earshot.

“I am sorry for leaving you like that.” She spoke, slightly unsure.

“Why are you apologizing for that?” He bit back.

She merely closed her eyes and clenched her jaw, a way to compose herself. She looked at him, pulling down her hood, “Because it was immature. I had upset myself, and took it out on you.” She clenched the fabric of her sleeve, looking at the snow, “I know it’s hard for you to talk about, anything. B-but it isn’t fair to take it out on people who care, people who are your friends.”

“Friends? We aren’t friends.” He laughed, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. He couldn’t look at her though, still frustrated. “I don’t need anyone to make me feel better.” The last two words took a mocking tone.

She sighed, again, “You really are a piece of work.” There was a small smile on her face as she said this, she put her hands behind her back.

“I-” He wanted to fight back, but he didn’t know what to say. “Ugh, you’re annoying.” He looked back at her.

“Mhm, you say that a lot. Maybe I am.” She tilted her head as she looked up at him. Her face, not obscured by a hood or their height difference, was soft. “We’re friends. We watch out for each other, and sometimes we don’t fight.” There was a sad smile on her face as she spoke, “Even when we storm off, we never get too far. You have even given me some of your food before. Once you said-” She prepared the worst impression of him possible, “Your swings today were not as bad as they usually are.” For emphasis she put on a fake angry expression, before relaxing into a laugh, “I don’t know if minotaurs can even smile, but I swear I think I’ve seen you crack one.” Her smile got wider, overall warm despite the weather, “We’re friends, like it or not.”

The tension he didn’t even know he had in his shoulders let up. The matter-of-fact way she spoke couldn’t be disputed, “That was a horrible impression.” He scoffed, she crinkled her nose, “I, uh…am sorry too.” He exhaled sharply from his nose, “Sure, we’re friends.”

She clapped her hands in front of herself, which surprised him, “Great!”

“Are you drunk or something, you’re so...I don’t even know.” He said it with a hint of disgust.

She shook her head, “No, actually I barely touched my mead.” She sucked in her lips before speaking again, “That’s enough of being sappy. Doesn’t suit us.”

“For once we agree.” He shook his head.

“I do have to ask-”

“Do you?” He cut her off, sighing deeply.

“Yes, why did you storm off? I don’t think I said anything too bad.” She crossed her arms, face getting serious.

The question took him by surprise, “I don’t know.”

“Could you try? I’ll leave you alone.” She nodded once, proposing a deal.

“Fine.” He couldn’t argue with that bargain, “I got mad.”

“Right...” She snickered.

He groaned, “Come on, let me try here.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Her mouth bent into a smile again.

“What’s bothering me is, I had nothing to be mad about. I saw you go to Gore, and it just…you normally look small. But in that moment you looked…meek.” She glanced away at the description, furrowing her brow. He sighed before continuing, “Look, I don't know how else to describe it. It was different from how you usually were, I know I am not nice to you. To anyone. But you’ve never looked like that. You’ve never been mad at me.” Her eyes widened for a second, realization hitting her. He noticed, “What?”

“You felt bad! Like, em, guilty.” She said it with some confidence, though her voice was still soft.

“Fuck no, why would I-”

“No, no you totally felt bad. I’d guess, mad at yourself.” She pointed a finger at him.

“I’ve been mad at myself before.” His arms relaxed, but his fists clenched at his sides. “It’s not like that, I felt like a pain in my chest this time.” He swallowed, not sure why he admitted that. “Ugh, this is stupid and doesn’t matter. Are you happy now?”

“Well, no.” Her shoulders slumped, a frown back on her face. “One time, Gore was upset with me. I said something insensitive on accident, not realizing it would hurt him. It made me nervous…I felt a pain in my chest. Felt like my stomach had dropped out of my body.” She made a motion with her hand, “It’s upsetting to hurt a friend when you don’t mean to. I was frustrated. This wasn’t the first time I’ve tried to help, and you get mad at me even if you initiated it. I wanted to fix it all with a few words, something that is hard for me to do. Only to be shot down.” She ran her hand over her face, rubbing the scar on her cheek, “I tried to reach out, and you then basically slapped my hand away. That doesn’t feel great.” She fidgeted with her hands now in front of her.

“Oh. Yeah, yeah I can see that.” He rubbed his neck, “But I am not something that needs fixing.” He said curtly.

“I know!” Her head shot up, “Which is also why I said sorry earlier.” She took a deep breath, “It’s not weak, Flint. One day I hope you see that.”

“It is weak. I should- I don’t know!” He grunted, feeling childish, “I shouldn’t care so much! You shouldn’t either. It doesn’t fucking matter, none of it does. It’s pathetic.” He put his hands out in front of himself as if showing her something. He was talking about himself, but she kept her mouth shut. He wouldn’t believe her if she disputed, so she’d leave it lying for now.

“Okay...” She nodded, “Mhmm...” Her eyes looked elsewhere for a moment, thinking silently to herself. He waited there, seeing the cogs turn in her head. Before he knew it a wide smile grew on her face. It pissed him off a little bit on how easily she left things to be. It was all too familiar to be around people who argued with every little thing he said. A beat passed before she looked at him again, “Could I, em…hug you?” The question was whispered, a flash of hope in her expression.

“What? No, what?” The second what was said was more like a statement.

She held her arms out, “I’m no good at words either, you don’t even have to do it back.”

“Ugh, fine. But no one’s ever hugged me before.” He said it like it was a foreign word, it certainly was a foreign concept to him. His whole body tensed as she stepped closer, and he lifted his arms slightly. Cautiously she wrapped her arms around him, her head only slightly leaning on his chest. His arms felt limp at his sides, unsure what to do with them. He would never admit he enjoyed it, but not enough to return the gesture. He rolled his eyes and placed a hand on the top of her head. That was the most she was going to get. She let out a hum. He moved it to push away her shoulder, “Alright.”

She gave a final squeeze before putting distance between them again. Her smile had not left her face, “Thank you.” She rubbed her hands together nervously.

He only responded with a hmph, before taking in a shaky breath. “Yeah.” His arms went back across his chest, closing himself off again.

“Okay, I’ll leave you alone now.” She ducked her head, also slipping her hood over her head. “We’ll be heading out soon, but since it’s cold you should come inside. I can buy you another mead.” She beamed, clearly proud of herself for this monumental occasion. He rolled his eyes again.

“You’re like a fly, an annoying fly.” His words didn’t have their usual edge, it was clearly a joke. As lighthearted as he could manage.

She shrugged, “That’s not a no.” She turned on her heels back towards the inn. He groaned as he followed her lead, silently happy she was back to normal.

“At least I get a drink out of this torture.” He scoffed, she merely laughed as she held the door open for him. They both returned to the warmth of the inn, leaving for a moment the harshness of the real world. Gore snickered at them both having to duck and maneuver through the door. Samhain went to buy another round, and Flint decided to join Gore. He just gave him a smile and a nod, they both watched Samhain return with two tankards.

“Still never finished mine, so here.” She held them out to both. When they were out of her hands she grabbed her discarded one, holding it up in a toast, “To friends! Or something like that.” She smiled sweetly.

“To friends!” Gore said happily, taking another big swig.

“To friends.” Flint said bluntly, only slightly raising his drink.

Samhain nodded, satisfied before taking a sip. The feelings heralded earlier were a distant memory for them. She silently hoped this marked a new chapter for them, smiling over her mug at her two friends. Laughing at some joke Gore had said. The world may be cold and cruel, but at least they had each other.

#skyrim #skyrim custom followers #oc samhain #gore skyrim #flint skyrim #flint the minotaur

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