Hunter Chapter 2: Do I Not Fear Death

This is a Skyrim/Alan Wake 2 fic. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

This chapter has been edited due to content. If you want to see the unedited version GO HERE.

ALEX

I pulled against my restrains. The bandits had tied me up well and were smart enough to not give me any tools to escape. Any sharp objects were out of reach and they had tied a tight knot. It felt like I would have to peel off my skin in order to get free.

My fingers turned as much as they were able to again attempt to untie the knot. But it was useless.

I held back a sigh as I leaned against the post. I wouldn’t have the bandit laugh any harder at the man on the floor. He wore all fur armor and had an Imperial Sword, stolen from a soldier most likely, at his side. It must have been months since he had a bath as he smelled like ****.

“What are you going to do, husband of the Dragonborn?” The bandit sneered. “Or, should I say, the old man who wants to be married to the Dragonborn. You were trying to steal our Skooma, not destroy it.”

I glared at the bandit which made the idiot back up a few steps. Jash and I had been married for nearly ten years. Yet Skyrim wasn’t like Earth where my picture could easily be pulled up. So some people still didn’t know what I looked like.

Especially bandits who tended to stay in the wilderness without much care for whatever news the couriers carried.

My eyes looked around the abandoned shack that the bandits had holed up in for the night. There were large patches in the ceiling that indicated either they didn’t usually come here or they weren’t good at repairing their hideout. They had put me in the back of the shack with one man guarding me at all times while a few others stayed inside in a vain attempt to escape the cold.

The Bandit Leader was outside next to the fire with his most trusted men. At least I assumed they were his most trusted as they were allowed to be warmer than the rest.

I wouldn’t be in this mess if only I had put my ego aside and taken the crossbow. No matter how much I practiced, I would never be able to use the bow. But every time I used a crossbow I felt like a ******* idiot.

Even though Jash didn’t like using the bow, instead preferring to use his sword or Destruction magic, he could if the situation called for it. Whenever I was staying in Goldenhills Plantation, he would take me to hunt deer. His favorite prey.

He with the bow, me with the crossbow. I felt like a **** child next to him.

Next time I went out tracking down rumors of the Skooma trade, I would have to take a crossbow. Unless I trained even harder and was finally able to use the bow.

The first week in Skyrim had been the hardest. Everything I had depended on and didn’t think about left a glaring absence in my life. I took a **** in a bucket that was kept clean by a housecarl. There were no showers but in most houses you could boil water and pour that into a tub. Saxhleel Vigor Coffee was the only way I could get a caffeine fix and it was extremely bitter compared to what I was used to.

After the sun set the temperature and lack of life was oppressive. When nothing needed to be done that night, it would be better not to have any candles or torches lit. Jash had taught me the Candlelight spell when I needed light but no other light source could be used.

I could keep that light around myself for a few seconds at most.

That week I felt the full brunt of Jash’s Skooma addiction and alcoholism. I knew he had those vices and it hadn’t felt like a fault when I could wake up in my ****** New York City apartment. But now that I woke up every day next to him, it felt wrong.

After that first week, though, I was able to accept Skyrim and Jash’s place in it. He never took Skooma or drank heavily while at one of his houses or in a city. Instead the vices he was addicted to were only for when he was traveling. Both Skooma and the various alcoholic drinks littering this place, helped him keep warm while traveling through a very cold province.

Jash’s positions in the Dark Brotherhood and the Thieves Guild gave us a comfortable life. We had more wealth than two people could spend in one lifetime. And when he pulled rank, those he cared for were protected from the dark forces of this world.

My husband’s love had been annoying to deal with whenever I mentioned a slight problem. If I said anything concerning, he would stop whatever he was doing. He could be in the middle of a Dark Brotherhood contract or racing to slay a dragon. Scouts-Many-Marshes’ suicide attempt must be something he could never forget or forgive himself for.

One night after we had ******, we were just enjoying each other’s presence. I had talked about saying how I understood Jash’s addiction and I accepted it. But I couldn’t live in this place and not do anything to stop the Skooma trade. He had understood but said he couldn’t help me. He also expressed pleasure in knowing that I had found a cause to fight for. Something to do.

“It is yours to stay true to yourself, my love.” Jash had said. “I would think less of you if you allowed yourself to change too much.”

The bandit watching me finally grew bored. He didn’t just look away from me, he started to walk out of the abandoned shack.

Now was my chance.

I twisted my fingers and body to loosen the knot. Somehow, Jash would probably thank Hircine, I managed to get the rope just loose enough. My teeth clenched as I freed my wrists. There was no way to stop the slight sigh that managed to escape my mouth.

As I stood up, I massaged my wrists. My hands went to my gun that no longer existed as the sounds of fighting could be heard. The thick scent of burned flesh was quickly filling the air and there was only one cause that I could think of: Jash had come to rescue me.

I saw a small dagger on the floor where my bandit guard had stood and picked it up before joining the fight.