Chapter Text
4E 200, 19th of Sun's Height. Solitude, grand and imposing, sits perched high above the lower arch. During this time of year, Solitude and it's neighboring holds have been graced with warmer temperatures and increased commerce. Within the walls of the city, the people go about their daily lives and routines. Despite tensions with the eastern holds, daily life in Solitude is peaceful.
Lying in a cozy nook off the main street of solitude lies a large manor. Inside, the residents enjoy their peaceful day as the pleasant smell of baked goods flow from the home. Being one day before the holiday known as Sun's Rest, the people within hastily prepare for a day of eating and drinking tomorrow.
Within the kitchen is a Nord woman with immense hair length. Nearby, a Nord man helps out by sweeping the floors. The woman, dressed in traditional Nordic clothing, hastily tends to the stove, adding and removing sweets and breads.
(((Amidst the sounds of sweeping and cooking, the woman partially burns her fingertips and lets out cry. "Ow! Dammit! Only one day left before Sun's Rest yet we still have so much to do. Where in Heaven's name is our son?.".
"Startled by her outburst, the Nord man, who also dropped the broom, gathers himself before saying "I do not know, my love, but he should be here helping us.")))
((((The Nord man lets out a frustrated grunt. "He's probably at the Winking Skeever burdening everyone with his sorrows. He should be passionate about inheriting our fortunes. Or at least finding a wife. Solitude is filled with lovely young women. If he'd get his head out of the clouds and look around him, he'd find someone!".
The Nord woman sighs as she looks to her husband. She understands his feelings but feels his approach is too direct with little compassion. "Oh Horgrim. I agree but I'm sure Ainar will find his own path. As his parents, we should motivate him and be happy with whatever he chooses to do in life."))
Horgrim merely pauses and says nothing. He has long grown weary of coddling and indulging people, especially his son. "I only have so much patience. If he doesn't figure it out now, he never will.)))
Horgrim returns to his chore before saying, "Gunhild....should I....go fetch him? I don't want him giving poor Corpulus a headache. Or do I?"
Gunhild chuckles. "No. The longer he's there, the more Corpulus will get bored of him and stop giving him unnecessary attention. I give it a week."
Within the winking Skeever, citizens, travelers and mercenaries drink, eat and sing. Their minds, occupied only by the present, they worry not about what may happen in the future. Thoughts of war are nonexistent in their minds.
(((Sitting off to the side alone is a young Nord man with ginger hair and blue clothing befitting a noble. Obviously in deep thought, he quickly consumes his expensive ale before deciding he wants another.
He lets out a low belch before saying, "I'll have another....you know what? Nevermind. Alcohol isn't going to help me. Nothing will".)))
((("I appreciate the consideration. Cleaning vomit is not an enjoyable task on a Sundas.". Corpulus cheerfully responds in his usual innkeeper manner A moment passes as he notices Ainar's dower mood. Unable to keep his curiosities to himself, he imposes a question.
"Ainar? What bothers you? I know you well enough to tell when something is on your mind. Let's hear it."
"It's the bard's college." Ainar responds. "I did all I could to join but I was rejected for reasons that make little sense.")))
"We are on the verge of war. The savage eastern holds are still furious about something that happened thirty years ago! I wasn't even born then. The world needs music now more than ever! Why would those conceited pricks refuse what I have to offer?!"
(((Corpulus sighs and grabs a broom as he finds Ainar's complaining to be undeniably petty and minor. "Ainar, we cannot control what happens around us by fretting. The college accepts who they want. I know you wanted this but you simply must understand this is a fleeting feeling at most. Just a week ago you were telling me you wanted to become a mage! Perhaps if war really does happen, you can become an Imperial battlemage?"
Ainar then says "War is a death sentence. I have so any things I wish to give to the world and violence is not one of them. ))))
He then ponders a bit before saying "Maybe.......Alchemy? Our mortal bodies are so easily altered and manipulated. We just have to find the right ingredients to make it happen."
Corpulus, having heard enough of his endless ideas, none of which will ever come to fruition, merely chuckles, turns to him and says "May whatever captures your interest, keep your interest, Ainar."
Ainar leaves the winking skeever, feeling both unsatisfied and unheard. Desiring only a bit of empathy, he has grown bitter with most people nowadays. "Damn that inn and this entire city. All these people care about is work and simple pleasures. And not a single one of them is capable of having faith in anything."
He approaches his manor and takes a moment to ponder his thoughts. He crosses his arms before saying "Wealth and riches are great, but these things mean nothing if your life is drab and monotonous. I want something to motivate me to wake up in the morning, to put a smile on my face. Will anything change for the better?"
He enters through the front door and instantly hears his parents talking. "I don't have the time nor energy to help out in that kitchen. I know tomorrow is a holiday but....no."
He proceeds to hide against the wall and eavesdrop. He waits for them to occupy themselves with something further in the kitchen in order to sneak past.
Gunhild, who already knows he is there, decides to toy with him. "What!? War has broke out with the Eastern holds!? No! What will we do? We'll have to send Ainar to fight on the frontlines!"
Ainar quickly comes around the corner. In an instant, he suspects that the life he has grown so accustomed to is coming to an end. War is what he fears the most and instantly imagines a Stormcloak blade to his throat. With a scowl on his face, he says, "Don't you dare send me away! What's the nonsense about war a war breaking out!?"
((("Ah there you are. Here's a broom. Now clean....You naïve, tense child." Horgrim quickly and bluntly says. "Everyone knows we're not going to war. I'm sure sooner or later the holds will reunite one day and return to peace."
"So....A prank then." Ainar says in a relieved tone. While he dislikes being tricked, he feels a sense of relief, knowing that peace remains for now.
Gunhild chuckles. "We love you very much, son....But we also love a clean house. Now get to it and quit wasting time at that Inn!")))
(((Ainar does as he is told, begrudgingly. He finds cleaning a tedious task and would prefer to hire someone to do the cleaning for him. "Why not hire one of the street beggars to do this task for me instead?"
Gunhild couldn't believe her ears "You lost your mind, son? I am not having smelly beggars in my kitchen. Now enough of your bickering. We have important people coming tomorrow!")))
A small silence occurs as Ainar's mood changes. He does as he is told but deep down inside, a negative emotion festers like an open wound. He tries to ignore it but finds it impossible to do. In a hushed tone, unheard by his family, he says "Why do you never ask her for help in the kitchen?"
-To be continued-