Chapter Text
“Brr,” Bormic shivered. “Is Skyrim always this cold?”
Ralof laughed warmly, his breath coming out in small puffs, almost like smoke. “Down south it isn't as bad. But yes, it is always this cold.”
“Well,” Bormic said through his shivers. “It's better than choking on ash I guess.”
“Oh right,” Ralof remembered. “You're from Morrowind.”
“People still call it by its proper name? I thought by now it would be known as 'ash land' by now. That's what everyone who lives their call it.”
Ralof chuckled, and watched the waves from the Sea of Ghosts roll gently against the shoreline. He had never known a man like Bormic. He was strong, brave, smart, but also warm and pleasant to be around. One person who would never betray you no matter how hard you hurt him. And it was something Ralof admired.
“I wish the war ended so we could head back to someplace warmer.” Bormic muttered, wrapping his cloak tightly around him as the wind chilled him even more.
Ralof was almost the opposite. He was wearing the standard Stormcloak outfit, and nothing more. No helmet, cloak, or anything. His warhammer had been discarded and now sat in the snow along the cliff they rested at.
“I just wish the war would end.” Ralof admitted. “It's been going on too long, and too many have died from it.”
“If people wanted this to be over quick, they would have joined the Empire.”
“And leave behind Talos?” Ralof shook his head sadly. “Nords will never forget that legend.”
“Yeah. I bet if the Empire wasn't founded by Talos himself, no Nord would ever join!” Bormic managed a laugh, shivering a little less than before.
“Well, they might have in the past. Before the Great War at least. The Empire is crumbling, and if it loses Skyrim as well, no doubt it will collapse much faster.”
Bormic frowned. “If the Empire never lost to the Dominion in the first place, it would have never had us rebels. And anyone who joins the Empire, is not a Nord who loves their heritage. To turn your back on the man who founded the Empire... it's hard to believe it's the same one, really.”
“It's a shame that we lost. If I had been around during then I would've joined the fight.”
“No offence, but one man wouldn't have made the difference between us winning and losing. You would have most likely ended up dead like most who lived in the war.”
“I know, but I would've taken out at least one of those elves!” Ralof declared, his voice carried away by the wind. “And maybe I would have lived and followed Ulfric's leadership much sooner.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. There are some things that I really don't like about that man.”
“Oh?” Ralof looked at him, and asked, “Like what?”
“Well he acts like he's better than everyone else most of the time. He's racist as well. Growing up in Morrowind, there was at least five of every race in each town, all either trying to improve it or leave. I can't believe how he treats the Dunmer and Argonians.”
Ralof nodded. “Yes, there are a few things wrong with the man, but his cause is true. I follow him for that, not what flaws he has.”
“Sometimes a man's flaws makes it wrong though. A man's cause can be the most just thing in the world, but his flaws makes everyone frown and shake their heads rather than joining. While others can have the worst cause imaginable, but have everyone join him because he's perfect.”
“Wise words, from a wise man. Maybe you should be a scholar,”
“Pah,” Bormic waved a hand at Ralof. “I'm too stupid to be a scholar. Plus, I've always had a thing for violence, and hitting those Imperials certainly helps.”
Ralof laughed.
“I could never be an Imperial. Even I believed in their cause.” Bormic admitted.
“Why?” asked Ralof.
“I've never worn clothes worn by most women, and I doubt I ever will.”
They both laughed and Bormic reached over to grab the two bottles of mead they brought. They knocked the bottles together as a cheer and popped the caps off before drinking deeply from its contents.
Bormic was the first to speak after their drink. “I think we should make our own brewery when we make it out of this alive.”
“Aye.” Ralof agreed. “We could even get an alchemist to help out with that.”
“That would be a good idea. We're pretty close to the college, so we might even be able to search now.”
“If we don't freeze first!”
They shared another laugh, and then went silent, watching the waves begin to crash against the shore before they had to go back to camp. They were partners to the end, through and through. Ever since they got the Jagged Crown, and until the ends of time. They would always be together in frozen lands, with warm hearts.