Chapter Text
The cool rain was a welcome delight as Eonwe Jorgiis tipped back her head with a groan, letting the moisture wash away the layer of perspire and road dust from her face. Boot-high in muddy streams of water and aching terribly from the long, grueling journey – on foot, no less – to Riften was almost incomparable to anything else. The young Nord wiped rain out of her eyes and squinted through the heavy layer of mist that had begun to settle through the streaming sheets to see a stone watchtower looming mere yards ahead. Finally… have I reached this blasted place?
Blasted it was alright, especially when the gate guard planted himself in front of her and stuck out his hand. Eonwe stared at the worn leather glove hovering below her nose. “Am I not allowed in?” she raised one slender eyebrow.
“Until you pay the toll, you’re not going anywhere,” his thick Nordic accent drawled as he purposefully stretched out his vowels. Eonwe regarded the gate guard in disbelief.
“Since when do people have to pay to enter a city?”
“Since right now, girl. Pay up or haul ass,” he crossed his arms, intending to wait until Eonwe paid him. She wasn’t about to do that, especially if she wanted to buy herself a room and sleep off the nagging headache the guard was beginning to invoke. Eonwe rolled her eyes and, by doing so, glimpsed the guard on the opposite side of the gate watching them intently. Too intently.
“How much?” Eonwe asked carefully.
“Fifty gold.”
“Fifty?” she exclaimed.
“Don’t like it? Too bad,” the guard shrugged. “You see that stretch of road behind you? I suggest that you start following it before you cause too big a commotion.”
Eonwe's already-present frown deepened and she crossed her arms, mimicking the guard’s pose. He shifted back under the overhang and looked out beyond Eonwe’s head – which was easy, considering that she was likely the shortest Nord to have walked Skyrim’s hills – and pretended to not notice her. She’d already figured it out though: This was a scam, through and through, and the guard had given it all away. Eonwe knew what to do, provided that the other guard was still paying attention.
“I pay you, you let me in, deal?” Eonwe asked. The guard looked back down at her silently. “How’s twenty-five gold sound? Enough to line your pockets with, yeah?”
“It’s fifty, and I’m not going to change the toll,” he replied stubbornly, though his voice wavered slightly.
It was enough of a waver for it to matter.
“Perhaps I should make that commotion and bring your superior officers out here?” Eonwe threatened. “I’m sure you’ll have a fine time trying to explain why you were skimming coin off of travellers, and furthermore,” she raised her voice. “Why you’re attempting to give me a shakedown! Now will you let me in or do I have to start shouting?”
Little was the guard aware that he was standing across from the Dragonborn herself, and she wasn’t meaning traditional shouting whatsoever. Eonwe would have easily given up fifty coin to have seen his reaction, but a dank little prison cell didn’t sound as appealing as a warm, dry bed.
If anything, Eonwe had managed to ruffle the guard’s feathers, and the other guard was now looking at him with her hands on her hips. Almost in a guilty manner, the guard looked back and forth and said in a hushed voice, “Alright, keep your voice down! Do you want everybody to hear you?” Yes. “I’ll let you in. Just… let me unlock the gate.”
“Thank you,” Eonwe muttered, waiting as he did so. He was pretty quick about it too. Why, he even held the gate open for Eonwe. Before she entered however, Eonwe turned to the other guard and pressed a septim into her palm. “For your trouble,” she said sweetly. She then entered the city of Riften for the first time with a grim outlook on what she was going to find within.