#these two are problematic little shits in each others' vicinity. they're disgusting. they're perfect for each other

[umbracirrus]

WIP Wednesday! 💛

So, I actually scheduled this to post on Sunday because I, as seems to be a trend with me at the moment, came up with a new OC - her name is Ragna Copper-Vein, and though she starts out as a bandit... she eventually ends up as Jarl Siddgeir's housecarl and partner :3

Here is an excerpt of what I have written in the run-up to her becoming his housecarl. For context, she was raised as a bandit at Knifepoint Ridge and tried to kill Siddgeir when he tried to have her camp eradicated for not paying him. She was arrested for it and is serving a life sentence, but gets a lifeline from Siddgeir.

I'm not sure if this will end up as a multi-chapter fic or a long oneshot when it's done! But it will be all done when I do go to post it.

Tagging a handful of people this time (with no obligations to post anything though!) @hircines-hunter (who has been listening to me go on about Raggy and Siddy on discord!!), @skyrim-forever, @thequeenofthewinter, @throughtrialbyfire, @bostoniangirl21 ,

@oblivions-dawn and anyone who wants to post a WIP!

Under a read more due to length 😊

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It had been a long few months for Siddgeir, and it had all started with the Empire deciding that they wanted to execute Ulfric Stormcloak in his hold. The sooner the war the better in his opinion, even better if the Stormcloaks were to be defeated with the death of their leader, because how in Oblivion did they expect to keep things running in Skyrim with what little money they would have once the Empire was removed?

He had allowed them to use Helgen, and he thought that would be the end of that, and things could finally get back to normality. Perhaps he could even begin pulling the strings to try and become the next High King – the throne of Skyrim was empty, and being a Jarl wasn't that hard, so surely being King would not be much harder?

He never expected to hear that Helgen got destroyed by a dragon, that Ulfric Stormcloak had escaped, and a majority of people within the walls of the town had died. That had been an absolute headache in trying to sort out, even with Nenya handling much of the paperwork and Runil tending to the dead.

After that, to the north, the Jarl of Whiterun suddenly started mobilising guards to the border of their holds in Riverwood. It was presumably as a result of what happened in Helgen to protect the people there, but it was something which had needed to be kept a close eye on for a while.

Then the bandits which he had so generously permitted to stay on his land for a fee had started holding back their payments. First Bilegulch Mine, followed by Knifepoint Ridge. The rest were keeping up – for now – likely because a message had been sent showing them the consequences of what was to happen if payments were to stop.

To top it all off? That woman from Knifepoint Ridge who had the gall to tell him that they supposedly had no money before attempting to assassinate him when he decided that they had to face the consequences. Supposedly she was behaving in jail, he had seen it himself on the few times he had ventured in that direction to ensure that the guards were not lying, but she had proven herself to be quite… volatile, based on her original attack. Who knew what other magic she could use? Who knew what other weapons she could have hidden away?

He still needed to figure out what to do with her too. Even for someone who attempted to kill him, he could use her abilities to his advantage… she would eventually be an asset to him. Nenya would no doubt be able to come up with something for her to do.

The only good thing which seemed to have happened for him over recent months was that he had a new Thane. A survivor of Helgen who had made quite the name for themselves in the weeks following the disaster, and had proven themselves quite handy with a blade – they had taught the bandits at both Bilegulch and Knifepoint a lesson for him, after all. They had also bought a plot of land in the hold, and was frequenting the city and its businesses often, or so he had been told.

He had found himself at the Dead Man's Drink a lot more often than usual as a result of it all. He'd also persuaded Valga to start stocking Black-Briar mead, which was something too. It was a lot easier to wind down with all of the nonsense that was going on with a real drink.

It was as he was returning to his longhouse after one such visit that something began to feel… wrong. As though there was another thing to add onto the pile of troubles in Falkreath.

He was proven right when he opened the door to his longhouse, and saw a group of guards gathered, with the sound of Nenya calling for them to make some space coming from somewhere within. He approached the group, and cleared his throat, which made the chatter stop almost instantly. A few of the guards stepped aside, allowing him to approach the source of the commotion…

Helvard was lying face-down on the ground, blood spread across his armour and the floorboards around him. A dagger was lodged into his back, pinning a sheet of paper bearing a black handprint to his body.

Somebody had assassinated his housecarl. He couldn't not have a housecarl!

"Where is the miserable wretch who did this, hm?" he asked, looking between Nenya and the guards who had the nerve to remain standing around. "Well?"

There was a nervous chitter from among the guards. "W… We don't know, my Jarl. He was found like-"

"Well find them! And get Runil and Kust to remove the body!" he snapped, which is all it took for them to spring into action and quickly make their way out the longhouse.

After that, he took a few deep breaths, before turning towards Nenya. "That could have easily been me, had I not gone to Dead Man's Drink," he stated, his brow furrowing. "If I was the intended target of the attack, I simply cannot go without a housecarl. What do we do?"

Nenya frowned, taking a quick glance towards Helvard's body before letting out a quiet sigh. "I don't know, Jarl Siddgeir…"

"Most of the guards have proven themselves incompetent from that little show a few moments ago, and aside from them not many people currently in Falkreath are warriors beyond the new Thane. Who else in this forsaken hold knows how to hold a blade?!"

"My Jarl… There is somebody, actually, though I do not know whether they would be willing or whether you would be too happy with them being your housecarl…"

"And who is it?"

"Your attempted assassin."

Siddgeir scoffed, before starting to laugh. "Ragna? Her? You must be joking."

"You saw what she could do when she tried to kill you… Perhaps with incentive, you could get her to use those abilities against those who wish you harm."

He brought his hand up to his chin for a moment, thinking the idea through. Nenya wasn't wrong… He knew that there was a reason he had kept her on as his steward when he was given the title of Jarl.

"Fine then. And if it does not work out, then she continues her sentence in prison. Come now, Nenya. Let's talk to her."

"N-Now?"

"Yes, now. The longer I am without a housecarl, the more danger I could be in."

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It was late at night, and Ragna somehow found herself having trouble getting to sleep. Even with an actual bed in her cell now, she just couldn't seem to get comfortable – perhaps she had simply spent too long lying on the ground over recent years that it just felt odd to be using a bed now. It also didn't help that the guards appeared to be rather jittery, whispering to each other and constantly being on the move. Maybe something had happened. Or maybe they had finally noticed that the man from the cell at the other side of the jail had escaped after turning into a damned werewolf days ago.

All that she could really do was lie down with her eyes closed, arms folded behind her head with one of her legs propped up, trying not to focus on the hushed chatter outside the cell. However, she couldn't do that for long, the sound of somebody approaching the cell caught her attention, before they blocked some of the light from outside which she could vaguely make out through her closed eyes.

She opened the eye closest to the cell doors and tutted when she saw Siddgeir and Nenya stood there.

“What do you want, Siddy?” she remarked, hearing him scoff in disgust at the nickname. She'd figured out on the occasional visits to the jail he had made to check that she was behaving that he despised being called that, so had kept up with calling him that every time that she saw him.

“Well, I was going to offer you the opportunity to be free of this cell, but if you are to be like that...”

Freedom?

She sat upward on the bed, and properly turned to look at the pair. “Fine. What do you want, Siddgeir?”

He narrowed his eyes at the sarcastic tone in which she said his name. “Helvard is... Indisposed, at present. I need a housecarl.”

Nenya let out a sigh. “Helvard has been killed in a targeted attack,” she explained, her brow creased up in worry. “We are concerned that Jarl Siddgeir may also be a target, and decided that the best option with regard to his protection and Helvard’s replacement would be the person who got closest to killing the Jarl. You are quick, alert, and know how to use more than just a blade."

Ragna let out a snort as she raised an eyebrow. "Is this some sort of joke? I tried killing him, how do you know that I won't try again?"

"It would come with both a room at the Jarl’s longhouse and pay... You would also be free from this cell, effective immediately.”

She'd never had a consistent income before. It was... tempting. Incredibly so. Fenric would be rolling in his grave at the thought of her having actually done something with herself too… But it would mean spending the rest of her life in the vicinity of Siddgeir. Ironically the cause of the recent string of disasters in her life.

“So... One prison for another, huh? Shackled to Siddy’s side...”

“Ragna!” His voice was like a hiss as he glared.

“... Fine. I’ll do it.”