[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #171818; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #171818 solid; border-bottom: 10px #171818 solid;] You can stand me up at the gates of hell but I won’t back down {WORDS } 864 {TAGGED } Moldy Oldy {WEARING} Stormcloak armor Riverwood. Of all places, Riverwood? A groan lifted from the lips of the young woman while she clung to the bars that kept her in the small cell. “I’m telling you!”, she called out to the guard she just knew was standing down at the end, tucked out of sight. “This is all a misunderstanding!” Oh man, just let them wait until she got out of here. Juuuust let them wait. She would…would…well, spit in their eyes. Yeah. That. She would do more, but that would only serve to land her behind right back in this cell. No, she would just spit in their eyes while she sauntered out of this tiny little cell that was being guarded by some nincompoop that didn’t even know which way was up or down. Guards… They were all alike. “That’s all it was, a misunderstanding.” Maybe if she talked enough, the guard would actually pay attention to her. Just maybe… If he would stop hiding in that corner and actually come to talk to her, she could convince him that she hadn’t meant to push that guard off that little cliff. Well…not entirely anyway. He had made a comment about her chest, which had made her mad of course. Okay, so he hadn’t directly made a comment about her chest. But when she’d caught him staring at it, he’d stuttered on about what lovely a necklace she had. A totally great cover…except she didn’t have on a necklace. But if he’d watched where he was going, he wouldn’t have fallen OFF the cliff after she socked him one. He would have been a perfect gentleman and fallen toward the hill instead of off it. But that was completely his fault…not hers. And besides, they really couldn’t blame her for that little incident, could they? All he’d gotten was a gash on the head. There’d hardly been any blood at all. The problem was that this guard happened to have come from an influential family, and so his buddies had dragged her here. Of course the person she caught staring at her chest just had to be from an influential family. Of course… “Can you please realize it was a misunderstanding?” “You assaulted a guard! How is that a misunderstanding?” Finally! Siri felt like grinning when the guard appeared by her cell. “I didn’t assault a guard. I was giving him a tap on the chin and he leaned in too far, and then decided that pitching over the side of a cliff was the best idea. So in all honesty, it’s his fault he got a little scratched up.” “A little-! He had a gash gushing blood down the side of his face!” Siri had to fight the urge to roll her eyes at that. “Just a little scratch.”, she defended yet again. “Besides, why hit the guy in the first place?” “He was staring at my-…oh forget it! You’re all incompetent louts!”, she huffed out, stomping her foot like a child when she burst out with that. “What do they even pay you for? You all just stand around and arrest the wrong blasted person for doing absolutely nothing! What’s even your job? To hold the town down? Sign me up! I’ll get rich on doing absolutely nothing!" After her tirade, she was starting to stomp back to the little bed in her cell when the guard went and did it. “What’s a lout?” “Agh.” Throwing a pillow toward where he was staring at her, Siri sat down with a huff and crossed her arms over her chest. “Got a temper this one.”, he muttered out while he strode away. “At least they sent your letter!”, he called back. Oh great…that was just great. Oldy had better get there soon…and hopefully without the millions of questions he had. Of course, one of the only people she had an assurance of catching that she had any desire to know the predicament she was in, was her brother. She would rather her parents didn’t find out about this, doubted her sister would want to come, and the rest of her friends that she knew for sure were even alive happened to be Stormcloak soldiers, and Talos only knew where they were. But her brother? He would still be a guard of Whiterun. And like it or not, he’d come. Best...day...ever. {NOTES} Enjoy

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by Tom Petty

Tagged : Siri | Words : 765 | Notes : Insert stuff here.

He’d said it under the breath when he’d first read the letter. ”What did you do this time?”

It would be the first question Fjoldir would ask his sister once he found her – not a difficult thing to do in this little town, known as Riverwood, considering the guards stationed here were from Whiterun before the jarl had ordered them here for protection against dragons. Fjoldir stopped by a guard at the edge of the town, by the bridge, presenting the letter to him without saying anything. The guard laughed a few times. ”That girl your sister, Joldy? I feel a little sorry for you.” That, Fjoldir could not argue with. He felt sorry for himself on account of Siri sometimes, too. ”Where’s she being held?” The guard turned and pointed towards what looked like the back of the town, and a house that sat there. ”We have her in a little makeshift cell, since the town lacks a dungeon. The town captain would have had her sent to Whiterun, but we can’t spare any men…and she did throw one of us off of a cliff for apparently staring at her chest.” Fjoldir winced and shook his head at that revelation. Her letter had mentioned that she had “tapped a guard on the chin” for said staring. Knowing what she typically thought of as a “tap,” though….

Fjoldir sighed. ”I doubt she’s apologized yet, so I’ll do it for her. Let the captain and the guard that she injured know…” The guard waved off the notion. ”Eh, the captain won’t care and Bor has a reputation for treating women like slabs of meat. Don’t worry about pacifying them.” Nodding in understanding, but still no less upset about his sister’s actions, Fjoldir trudged off further into the town as he reached the building that the guard indicated, only partially taking in the town as he did so in favor of trying to think up what he could say to Siri that would actually get through that hard head of hers and convince her that a life consisting of throwing guards off of cliffs because of staring problems probably wasn’t what he or their parents had in mind for her. Admittedly, he was aware that their mother’s attempts to turn her into a lady were partially responsible for Siri’s…aggressive tendencies. It still didn’t mean she needed to throw every male in the vicinity who found her attractive to what could have, with any bad luck, been his death.

After all, Fjoldir wanted to be the only one tossing around the guards who looked a little too intently at his sisters.

The guard at the door let him in, and immediately upon entering, Fjoldir realized that Riverwood really wasn’t equipped for holding any sort of prisoners. What he found was a storage room – still holding its goods – and a cleared-out area with what looked like a barred-off closet at the far end that only barely caught the candlelight from the table where another guard was sitting with his helmet off, looking annoyed. The place also didn’t smell fantastic, and considering that Riverwood had no sewage system, probably not very sanitary. A slight flare of disgust at the guard captain for keeping his sister in a dump such as this one swept over him, but admittedly, Fjoldir wouldn’t want her in the dungeon underneath Dragonsreach either. Siri would probably find herself dead in such a place.

Fjoldir and the guard exchanged a look for a few seconds, apparently until the guard noticed the resemblance in Fjoldir’s features in relation to Siri’s. ”Finally. I’ve been counting the hours since she sent the letter to you. She’s so loud, I haven’t been able to get my afternoon nap.” Fjoldir turned his eyes away to look ahead at the cell, before he heard the rattling of keys and caught sight of them flying through the air towards him. With a quick reaction to them, he plucked them from midair. ”You get her out. I’m apparently an ‘imcomtent lout.’” Having to strain to hold in the need to smile at the mention of what Siri had apparently called the man, Fjoldir nodded to him and proceeded to hide the keys behind his back, tucked into his belt. Siri was going to need her lecture before he did any freeing.

Stepping over towards the door to the cell, arms crossed over his chest and his best fatherly disappointment evident on his face, Fjoldir stopped a couple of feet away and simply looked at his sister, very much prepared to let her start the conversation. Then he could ask her what she'd done.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #171818; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #171818 solid; border-bottom: 10px #171818 solid;] You can stand me up at the gates of hell but I won’t back down {WORDS } 1013 {TAGGED } Moldy Oldy {WEARING} Stormcloak armor Standing back up after she had gotten her anger under control, Siri now glanced around her surroundings. Damp, smelly, and probably growing fungus somewhere in the corner. She’d had to deal with worse than this of course, but it was pretty bad. If she was a proper lady she would probably have fainted and been brought out of here before now. That…wasn’t a bad idea actually. Fake fainting and they’d be tripping over themselves to rescue the poor damsel in distress. The entire problem with that was that Siri had never been the damsel in distress, had no idea how to even pretend to act like one, and sure as hell didn’t want of these louts to think of her as some poor lady that couldn’t even handle a little mold and dirt. She could sure handle as much dirt as any of these jokers could, if not more. While they were walking back and forth from one side of town to another, not getting their hands dirty and just pretending to do something, she was fighting a war for them. Real manly. Rolling her eyes, Siri went about making her cramped quarters a little more livable. Shaking out the only mildly – as in very – dirty blanket, Siri folded it once and laid it on the floor. After that, she went about fluffing up the pillows that had been given to her and placing them against the wall. When all of that was said and done, she settled herself on the floor with her back to the wall, crossed an ankle over another, tucked her arms over her chest loosely, and waited. Her waiting turned from minutes to hours. Despite that, Siri remained as she had been before, motionless and seated on the floor. If they were going to hide around the corner like some scared little school girl, she supposed that she could be the scary villain that they had hidden away in their little prison. Obviously they thought her some terror for simply dealing with a pesky lout that obviously had other ideas far from valiant on his mind. Just thinking about it made her anger flare all over again. Hell, who were they to throw her in a cell just for dealing with something like that? After all, it wasn’t her fault that he had the manners of a pig. Apologies to the pig for the comparison. And why couldn’t they seem to get it past their thick skulls that she didn’t just go around throwing people off cliffs as a way to find pleasure in life? What did they really think she was going to do? Find their Jarl and toss him off a cliff? Okay, so she might if he stared at her chest as well. But that was a definite if, so they really didn’t have anything to worry about! It didn’t seem like hardly any time had passed at all when she heard the scuffing of the door being opened and low voices. That had to be Oldy, since she doubted anyone would willingly come down here to this…lovely residence and sit over tea. Actually, some liquids would be extremely nice. After all, they’d only offered once, and she wasn’t about to take anything from these insolent louts. The less she had to be around the thick skulls the better. All brawn and absolutely no brain. Typical. That being said, Siri quickly made her posture relaxed and as if she had all the time in the world, and as if she was somewhere comfortable with a million pillows supporting her. With a confident – if not slightly serene look on her face, the young woman waited for her oversized brother to come and free her. And he would free her, no doubt about it. He cared too much for their family name to have it ‘tarnished’ by her time in this cell. Siri couldn’t say that the disapproving look that Oldy gave to her when he stepped up to her cell was anything that she hadn’t expected. In fact, she expected that he would give her a four hour long schpeal that she could simply blank out and remain there for without actually paying attention. Probably about how she should be lady like and try to live the way her mother wanted to – which sure didn’t involve any of the ‘taps’ that she gave people. Which would probably be biased toward some ridiculous story that another guard had told him. Full of lies no doubt, about how she just went around assaulting the oh so ‘perfect’ guards who just had to be spotless from any sort of blame. Instead of defending herself though, for a good few minutes, Siri simply looked back at him, matching his disapproving look with that of airy indifference. Finally though, she figured she had to say something. “Oh hello Oldy.”, she said in a sweet tone, tipping her head to the side with a look of beguiled innocent. Siri had the ability to charming whenever she saw fit to do so. And of course, she would love to take him by surprise right now. “What brings you to such a lovely place to talk to your sister?” {NOTES} She's so full of it XD

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by Tom Petty

Tagged : Siri | Words : | Notes : Insert stuff here.

Unfortunately for Siri, Fjoldir had years’ worth of patience from spending slow days watching the door to Dragonsreach and before that from standing from hours on end over a forge that threatened to drain him free from every ounce of sweat in his body. If she wished to stall here and stare back and forth with him for an hour or more without her leaving the cell, he would willingly indulge whatever stubbornness compelled her. He could be as stubborn. The seconds turned to minutes with Fjoldir still staring at Siri as he used to when she put far too much butter on her bread after he was nice enough to let her take some first. Apparently the amount of time that passed piqued the curiosity of the guard, as Fjoldir heard a few cautious, clanging steps at the far end of the hall. As the guard wouldn’t know, this was a common occurrence between the two siblings, and if he knew what was good for him, the guard would leave before the real stare-worthy exchange between Fjoldir and his sister triggered once she opted to say something to him.

On cue, Siri chimed in with that tone that Fjoldir could so easily recognize – almost sickeningly sweet, but undoubtedly false. The typical response from Fjoldir to that tone would be to roll his eyes, but he forced himself to continue pressing her with the disappointment in his eyes. Ugh, but she was going to put on her act and stick with it relentlessly. He knew that cutting his sister off before she truly got wound up would be the best choice for his hold to patience. ”Don’t start,” came Fjoldir’s exasperated reply, as the arms finally dropped from off of his chest to allow him to grab hold of one of the cold, metallic bars of the cell. Again, Fjoldir wished to shake someone for placing Siri in a cell as if she was a common criminal, but he managed to channel his displeasure at the young woman before him instead of at the bars or at the poor guard who probably continued to stare at them like a deer.

”What did you do, Siri? You know that I never minded you searching for more excitement in your life, but ending up in a cell? In Riverwood of all places?” With a rough shake of his head, Fjoldir rested his hands on the crossbars of the cell as if it was his pulpit, because Siri was about to hear some preaching now that she’d opened the door for him to get wound up by not taking this seriously. It was his opinion of the situation that provided him with conviction. ”And out of all people, you also know that I’m completely supportive of you using your…gifts to ward off any men that treat you disrespectfully. But couldn’t you have used some gift other than throwing a man – a rich guard – off of the side of a cliff? The idea isn’t to kill them…” Admittedly, Fjoldir doubted that Siri had wanted to do any permane- well, she might have wanted to do permanent harm to him. Killing, though, was far different from her ideas of permanent harm. Fjoldir knew that from their youth.

To prove his point, though, he didn’t digress. Fjoldir thought the guard left as he heard the door squeak. Smart man. ”Next time, if it’s a guard that’s bothering you, remember your brother is a guard too and doesn’t need a sister who’s throwing his comrades around. I could handle the man anyway, without getting myself thrown behind a set of rusty bars in a place that smells like a pig sty.” Though his voice remained even, a hint of pleading had taken to his features as continued to stare inside at her. In the back of his mind, Fjoldir might have realized that he was overreacting a tiny bit – no harm would come of this after he’d freed her from her cell, he assumed. Sometimes it took a little drama to get through to this hard-headed girl, though, and when it came to ensuring that Siri didn’t go tossing around guards and getting placed in someone’s rotting basement, one would be made to believe Fjoldir had been in theater his whole life.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #171818; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #171818 solid; border-bottom: 10px #171818 solid;] You can stand me up at the gates of hell but I won’t back down {WORDS } 889 {TAGGED } Oldy! {WEARING} Stormcloak armor After she had innocently asked him what he was doing there, Siri could barely keep her own face straight. Just from his tone of voice she knew she’d successfully frustrated him, exactly what she had wanted to do. Even growing up Siri had never been able to help teasing her older brother. He sure wasn’t the sickly boy he had been when she was a very small girl though, that was for sure. If she didn’t know better, she might have thought he’d actually eaten part of a house or something. Well anyway, why was she thinking about Fjoldir’s diet anyway? Keeping her features nearly angelic, Siri continued her innocent façade. She was going to get a talking to either way, so why not have some fun and torment him for a little bit in return? If she had to sit through one of his schpeals about how her mother wanted her to act, she could do a little something back, right? Right! Completely justified. “Start what Oldy?” To complete that look, Siri felt a little smile curl up and onto her lips to match her wide set eyes. Her lips twitched a moment later. She was finding it hard to keep up the innocent façade with him looking so annoyed at her. She had no doubt that he would love to reach in and throttle her for this, or dump her off the side of a cliff. Oooh how rewarding this was. As soon as he asked her what she had done, Siri instantly bristled inside. Oh no he didn’t! With a defensive look touching the features on her face, Siri clamped her teeth down and gave him a look that mirrored his when he had told her not to start. “For your information Oldy, I did not do anything. He was the one staring at my 'necklace'.” After a slight pause, she continued. “I don’t have a necklace on Oldy…” She nearly groaned aloud when he went on with his speech, yet managed to not roll her eyes and simply cross her arms more firmly over her chest. With a set jaw, Siri stared at him with as bored of an expression as she could muster. Underneath she was seething. So it was Oldy too now, eh?! “I did not throw anyone off any cliff. I merely gave him a tap on the chin to urge him to rest his gaze off my chest like the lout he was and settle it elsewhere. It was his fault that he decided to pitch off the side of the cliff instead of landing on the opposite side. As far as I’m concerned, you should be asking him why he did that instead of asking me why I did something I didn’t do. I’ve already explained this to the guards.” The fire in her eyes was a telltale sign that she wasn’t going to let this one drop. She’d always been as stubborn as a mule – which her father affectionately reminded her most days, and this was one area she wasn’t going to back down from. That damned guard was the problem here, not her, and she would stick to that story until she reached her grave if need be. “And besides, I didn’t kill him, so what’s the big deal?” Siri was once again defensive when she challenged him in that area. “All he got was a minor flesh wound on the side of his face that made him lose a little bit of blood. He’s just a baby.”, she grumbled out. The nearly pleading tone that his voice turned to simply caused an indifferent look cross her face. Siri would never admit that she did anything wrong. “Pig sty? What? You don’t like it down here? Tsk tsk Oldy. I think this place is quite quant. Oh yes, just take a nice whiff of that air. Don’t you just want to be here every day of your life? Mmmmm, it almost smells like mom’s cooking.” To prove her point, Siri took in a deep breath. Despite her eyes nearly watering, Siri managed to not choke while she did so. Oh Talos that did smell bad. {NOTES} Oh dear...

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by Tom Petty

Tagged : Siri | Words : | Notes : Insert stuff here.

Why did Siri really have to make things worse by playing on a false innocence? The almost obnoxiously precocious face she was handing him didn’t work as well seen through iron bars as it would in most other situations. Fjoldir would have been surprised if his own expression could muster any more displeasure as it did when she asked him – not taking this situation seriously in the slightest – what it was that she was “starting.” Glad that he managed to summon some patience, though, Fjoldir tried to keep his mind focused on the subject. With the terrible scent consistently reaching his nose and the dim form of his sister inside the grimy cell to keep him focused, he didn’t have much trouble tearing into his rant.

Fjoldir wasn’t confident in Siri’s ability to listen to his lecture in the first place, and her constant interruptions to “explain” herself only proved his doubts true. Every time she would speak up, Fjoldir would stop and lean back from his makeshift pulpit, crossing his arms over his chest and swallowing any temptation to try to out-talk this sister of his who would turn this into a shouting match that everyone in Riverwood could hear if she felt motivated enough. Judging by her excuses, she would undoubtedly be motivated enough. ”You did something,” Fjoldir reminded his younger sibling, flicking his fingers against the prison bars to remind her that they were there. ”I know most of these guards from Whiterun. They don’t throw people in jail for their own entertainment. What happened might have been your way of defending yourself, Siri, but whether the swine you waylaid deserved it or not, he still fell off of a cliff, and they had to put someone in jail for…convincing him to fall faster.” She had to give Fjoldir some credit; he was doing his best to try and work with her without throwing all of the blame on her shoulders. With her trying to play it off like she’d been off in Markarth when the guard had fallen off of the cliff, she was making it harder on herself and on Fjoldir himself. ”And believe me, I would love to ask that guard all kinds of questions. I’d love to toss him over a table and tell him that he should think twice before looking at my sister again, but he already got that message to go along with a gash to the head.”

Boy was Fjoldir glad that the cell guard had left.

That was the only positive, though. Siri was completely missing the point. Leaning, exasperated, against the bars with his elbows and propping his head on two of them, he weathered the continued storm of gibberish that his sister spouted at him. The point wasn’t that the guard was simply being a baby, Fjoldir wanted to tell her. He knew that if one of the other guards said he deserved getting knocked off of a cliff that this “Bor” was probably a spoiled chest-clinger whose parents had shoved into the guard to toughen him – but only once he could serve in Riverwood, a much safer place than Whiterun. Fjoldir wouldn’t have minded seeing his sister give a man of that stature a proper introduction into the dangers everyday life could hold. Her defense against the man was of no concern to Fjoldir in the slightest, because if he had to admit it to her, he’d probably say that Siri had done what he had taught her to do. His concern was with the attitude problem that she was clearly having about the whole situation, and that concern was deepened by having to free his sister from a dungeon that should have never needed to be a dungeon. Yet the girl – she was still a girl, even if other men were treating her like a woman – still wanted to spout her half-cooked attempts at humor and play the whole incident off as if she could never do anything that could be considered wrong in this life of action and adventure that she’d chosen. Her flippantness was what made Fjoldir want to lecture her into the ground, but he knew there would be no point. She wouldn’t listen to him; if she reached the conclusion that Fjoldir wanted her to reach, she would need to do it on her own.

If she had to spend a little longer down here for her to do so – because gods knew what Siri had been thinking about the rest of the time she’d been locked up here – he would have to set his jaw and tell himself that it was what was best for her. Her mention that this miserable place was quaint gave him an opening. He leaned back from off of the bars. ”Uh huh….well, if it’s so nice in this place, I might let you stay a little while longer. It sounds like you’re enjoying yourself.” He almost wanted to smile sweetly in response to her, but he kept his expression neutral. ”Besides, with you behind bars, there’s no need for me to worry about you finding more trouble.” Cocking his head to show that he’d made his decision, Fjoldir started to step away from the bars.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #171818; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #171818 solid; border-bottom: 10px #171818 solid;] You can stand me up at the gates of hell but I won’t back down {WORDS } 823 {TAGGED } Moldy Oldy {WEARING} Stormcloak armor Yup Fjoldir wasn’t listening to a single word that she was saying. After Siri defended herself by saying that she hadn’t done anything, he countered with once more telling her that she had done something. How would he know what she had or hadn’t done? In a show of defiance, Siri rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, staring at him with that same defiant look. “You’d say that even if someone threw me off a cliff.”, she snapped out in annoyance. Clearing her throat, Siri purposely lowered her voice and pretended to have his voice. “Oh Siri, no I don’t care if he pushed you off that cliff. It must have obviously been your fault. What did you do? Did you insult his mother? His grandmother? Or perhaps you told him that his father was a goat. So thus it must be your fault.” That didn’t seem to even phase him though. Instead he just went ahead and started in on another schpeal about the way of guards. At least this time he hadn’t made it sound quite so much like her fault. So maybe she could actually persuade him that this was all just a misunderstanding. She also smiled when he mentioned that the man she had encouraged to stop staring at her chest was a swine. So much so that she almost glowed for a moment. Somehow his mentioning what he would like to do to the guard didn’t help at all. Instantly she bristled. “I can take care of myself Fjoldir.” Siri rarely used his full name when she was addressing him, but when she did it was usually in annoyance. She’d always wanted to be able to take care of herself. Hell, she could take care of herself. She didn’t need anyone to fight her battles for her – especially if they blamed her for something that wasn’t her fault. Finally though, she got her chance to actually give him her side of the story. Instantly Siri sprung to action in order to take advantage of his giving her a little bit of a chance. Giving him the same schpeal that she had given the guards before, Siri really hoped that he would be more understanding of her plight. Unfortunately for her, he didn’t seem to be all that thrilled when she mentioned that the place didn’t smell as bad as he said. The effort to pretend that it wasn’t so bad nearly caused her to gag – or press her nose to her own garments to stave off the horrid smell that permeated her nostrils. Thankfully she did neither and kept up her façade alive. Unfortunately it didn’t go as she had hoped. As soon as he said that he was going to let her stay, a scowl reached her lips. “Wh…at?”, she asked in disbelief. Never had she imagined that he would actually leave her here. Oh no! He would not do that to her! He was just bluffing…right? Siri nearly choked on her anger at thinking he just might leave her there. While he started to walk away Siri pushed off the floor and scrambled up to where the bars were. “Fjoldir you come back here right this instant.”, she snapped out, complete with a heel stomped into the ground. When he didn’t do as she commanded, Siri had to do some quick thinking. Biting her lip in concentration, Siri finally had it. Thankfully before he had left. Instantly she mellowed out to a smile while she leaned against the bars casually. “If you don’t turn around and let me out of here right now, I’m…I’m going to really do something to get myself in trouble.” Hesitating a moment, she smiled sweetly, the same serene face she’d had before. “Either you get me out of here, or I’ll get out of here myself – whatever way I have to.”, she threatened. {NOTES} XD These two...

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by Tom Petty

Tagged : Siri | Words : 676 | Notes : Bahahaha.

”You are taking what I’m saying out of proportion,” Fjoldir only had the strength to say, rubbing at his eyes to make sure he didn’t look on Siri with eyes as weary as he suddenly felt. He wished, for one time in her life, she would take what he said as a sign that he was only trying to help her and keep the same thing from happening again later on. He didn’t know if she actually had a bone in her body that would allow her ears to open long enough to hear anything he had to say. He would have thought, in the twenty years she’d been speaking, she would have learned that his attempts at providing her with words of wisdom – what few he had – were only attempts to help her.

But Fjoldir assumed that now was not the time to give up, especially with his sister behind the bars of a jail cell. Even as he resolved to keep trying to work his words through her closed ears and into her brain, though, he had to let his shoulders slump when she expressed to him that she could take care of herself. Fjoldir knew this expression to be fact – if he hadn’t grown as tall and as broad as one of Skyrim’s trolls, Siri could have probably dragged him up and down the floor of their home whenever she pleased. Fjoldir had never wanted her to be a fragile girl, an opinion he shared with his father and not his mother, but he wondered if she would have gotten into as much trouble if she’d been sitting back with books and wearing pretty dresses. ”Your mouth tells me one thing, but these-“ He flicked his fingers against the bars. ”-tell me the opposite. I know...you couldn’t let him treat you as he did, but what if he’d fallen off that cliff and died? Broken his neck? You know I’d believe you, but no one else would, and then where would we be?” Fjoldir wondered if he wasn’t turning into a worrisome grouch, but if he was, Siri could be proud to know that she had done it to him.

And she could be proud to know that she was leading him to give her a hard time, too. Fjoldir could hear her scrambling to her feet when he mentioned he was going to leave, but he focused his attention on not turning to look at her as she reached the bars and instead continuing to move down the short hallway. Naturally, Fjoldir wasn’t going to be mean enough to his sister to actually leave her in the makeshift dungeon by herself, but he could spook her. Maybe he’d move around the corner, swing the door open as if he was leaving, and stand there to hear whatever she had to say. Fjoldir nodded slightly to himself having decided as much, and even as she started speaking up again to him, he turned an ear to catch what she was saying as he made the door creak loudly, took a few fake steps at the stairs, and let the door slide shut, remaining perfectly still as he eased onto the steps to listen to her continuing to make her demands and threats.

In spite of the fact that he wanted to be frustrated with her, he couldn’t keep a smile from his face and a silent chuckle from his throat as she rattled off about getting herself out and causing more trouble. Fjoldir sincerely doubted that she’d produce some sort of horrible, destructive magic that would burn the town down all of a sudden, so he considered anything else she could pull to get back at him for leaving her to be mild, at best, considering they’d already agreed to her release and probably wanted to be rid of her as quickly as possible. He waited, in silence, for her to do whatever it was she was planning. Even if she did get out of the cell, she wouldn’t get away from him.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #171818; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #171818 solid; border-bottom: 10px #171818 solid;] You can stand me up at the gates of hell but I won’t back down {WORDS } 1034 {TAGGED } Moldy Oldy {WEARING} Stormcloak armor Siri instantly shook her head back and forth to deny what he said. “No, no. you’re not taking what I say seriously enough.”, she said in exasperation. Fjoldir had her had never had quite as…easy of a relationship as he did with their sister, of course, but Siri had really thought that out of anyone in the world, he would be the most understanding of this specific situation. Instead, here he was giving her a lecture as if he was really her father. Honestly! She would have just asked for their father if she had wanted a lecture like this. But she was a big girl, she could handle it if he really was that adamant against helping her. Though it did sting a bit that he was being so seemingly unconcerned about her situation. So much so, that she still felt strangely like ripping her hair out in frustration. She had grown up in a male dominated society, sure, but she had really thought that she could be a bit different, have things a bit different. If men would give her the respect she wanted, it wouldn’t be so hard to continuously give them respect. But when all they did was pretend she was some piece of meat, she believed she had the right to stand up for herself and not get thrown into some dirty basement behind a set of hastily set up bars. But apparently that was also too much to ask for. It was all too much for her short temper and already firm beliefs in how the world should be. And stubbornly she continued to hold to those same beliefs and thoughts. “Then good!”, she snapped out when he mentioned what would have happened had he died. “One less idiot in this world to deal with in my opinion. Besides, why should he get any respect if he doesn’t give me any respect back!” Siri had been giving their father that same argument for as long as she could remember, and while he always chastised her for it, deep down she thought he at least understood, and hoped that Fjoldir did too. So why was he taking the guard’s side in this? Somehow, this had turned into a much more personal argument – one that Siri would be hanged if she would lose. Someone had to realize that they couldn’t just go staring at women and wondering what they looked like without their armor on. Siri didn’t go around doing that to them. Despite her bluster too, Siri did greatly wish that Fjoldir would just open the door and rescue her from the situation – or just give her a second chance to knock that guard on his backside again. And while she thought she wasn’t making much headway with her stubborn brother, she hadn’t expected him to just up and leave her either. With slightly changed tactics, Siri really thought that he would stop his retreat to the door as well. In desperation though, she resorted back to her blatant threats. “Fjoldir, I’ll do it!”, she told him, her hands wrapped around her bars in desperation. “Fjoldi-“ With the sound of the door closing, finally came her final burst of explosive anger. “FJOLDIR!”, she shouted after him. Shoving back from the bars, Siri stood there in her disbelief. “You unhelpful, disloyal, two timing traitor!” Stalking around her little space, she finally noticed the chair that had been set in for her – and pointedly ignored to make a point. With an iron grip, she picked up the wooden thing, wound her arms back and threw it as hard as she could toward the side of the wall, an angry grunt escaping her lips at the same time. With the shattering came a satisfied sound from Siri. Feeling a little better after her outrage, she was about to turn and sit down again, when her keen eyes picked up some of the splinters from the chair. Almost instantly her mind was thinking. Stooping to pick it up, Siri’s other hand moved into her mass of hair, held together in a braid by a few pins and string. Pulling her pin out, Siri wrapped her arms around her bars and inserted both her items into the lock. “Oh yeah! See if I don’t get out and cause mayhem around here, you stubborn man.” Muttering to herself, Siri shifted her pin around and tried to shift it around to release the lock with the wooden splinter. Though she was fairly adept with her normal lockpicks, this was much clumsier of a way to get the door open. A few times it slipped, giving her slivers – and a few angrily muttered words – but she did after a few moments hear the sweet sound of freedom. Tossing her wooden piece back inside, she shoved her pin in her pocket and pushed open the door forcefully, wincing at the rather loud creak that occurred. "Wait until I get my hands on that guard. This time I will throw him off a cliff." {NOTES} She's so happy about all of this

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by Tom Petty

Tagged : Siri | Words : 702 | Notes : Ahh I missed this thread.

At some point, Fjoldir had missed when this conversation had become a battle of who was more serious. Oh, he was serious. He took what she was saying seriously enough, and for that, he had to roll his eyes a little at her declaration that he wasn’t. Maybe he took it all seriously for a different reason – his concern that she apparently couldn’t understand that her actions could have easily killed a man – but she didn’t sound like she was capable of understanding the issue people had when a man was murdered by a woman just for his staring at her chest. Unlike Siri, though, Fjoldir thought he knew the perfect time to stay quiet and stop arguing a point, and he knew he wouldn’t do a single thing to cease her defensiveness and ranting by ranting back with equal enthusiasm. So he only gripped the bars of her cell in exasperation and pushed away from them, sagging his shoulders, not defeated, but getting sick of her ability to close off her mind to any inkling of common sense. Any more of her, and he thought he might croak.

She didn’t even…why did she think this argument was about respect? It wasn’t. She could have earned more respect by not acting like a madwoman and trying to kill a man for disrespecting her. Fjoldir wanted to explain that to her – wanted to do so badly – but he needed to…snap her out of this mood she seemed to be in, and he doubted words would do that, with her so quick to argue everything without even saying anything that carried any sense to it at all. He went so far as to open his mouth to get ready to say that respect didn’t come from attempts to kill people, but he got his mouth half-open and almost caught the words before they escaped by scratching at his cheek and looking away, shaking his head. She just needed…to get rid of this diarrhea of the mouth, and if she wouldn’t correct the problem herself, Fjoldir had to do something that would make her do so. So he came up with the idea to act like he was really going to leave her here to teach her a lesson…he didn’t think it would accomplish much aside from getting her thoughts in a totally different place, but it was worth a shot. At this point, he could do nothing else that would put her in a mildly intelligent state of mind.

From her yelling as he “left” her and the temper tantrum that started up once she went around the corner, Fjoldir decided that if nothing else, she might wear herself out so he could pick her up and drag her back home without having to deal with her constant complaining and fighting. Leaning forward where he sat, he rubbed on his face thoughtfully and listened to every step, crack, groan, crash, and the various other sounds his sister made as she played around within her cell. It didn’t take him long, once he heard her quiet down and some clicking came to his attention, to determine that she was trying to pick her way through the lock. Fjoldir leaned back in the seat to get more comfortable, knowing she’d probably succeed after a few seconds and he could just…wait her out. Unless she failed and got frustrated…and then she could apologize for shutting off her mind to his wisdom before he let her out totally. No… He sighed. He wouldn’t make her do that, since he cared too much…but he would still appreciate it if she would get that attitude of hers and shove it someplace dark and cold, never to be seen again.

But she did escape, and Fjoldir stood up as soon as he heard her open the door and start declaring the horrible things she would do again to the world. Rolling up his sleeves, he exhaled, obvious where he was standing but still not saying anything as he waited for her to pass by on her way out, looking totally disgruntled with her yet again. Why couldn’t the Divines have blessed him with a more…demure sister? Two couldn’t hurt, could they?

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #171818; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #171818 solid; border-bottom: 10px #171818 solid;] You can stand me up at the gates of hell but I won’t back down {WORDS } 701 {TAGGED } Moldy Oldy {WEARING} Stormcloak armor Siri thought she had raised some valid points in their little argument back there. She'd lived for far too long where women were nothing but owned by their fathers or husbands and had no real say in things. Well damn it, she did want a say in things and she didn't wan to be owned by anyone, let alone a husband she didn't have any need or want for. A husband...who needed one of those? And why did any woman need one to advance in Skyrim? She'd proved to be just as valuable of an asset as any of the men in the war. Then one stupid man had to ruin that for the moment. Thankfully the area was neutral around where they currently were, instead of Imperial Altmer lovers that would throw her in a real prison and leave her to rot or be tortured by the thalmor. While she could definitely handle that, Siri didn't want any of the Altmer stench to be on her. Unfortunately, her last hope in any pig headed male actually listening to her concerns just up and left her instead of doing anything about it. Damned brothers, what were they good for anyway? Obviously with all his muscles and strength, he sure wasn't good at springing her from any jail cells. Well forget that, she didn't need him anyway. Having thrown something of a tantrum, she got the idea of springing herself out with what she had on hand. It earned her some splinters and a broken nail, but she did it. When the door swung open, a look of triumph crossed her face. She'd show those louts what they got when they crossed an inferior woman. She'd split their heads open, or...or just do what she'd been accused of and let a rock do that for her. They couldn't blame her if they got killed from falling on a rock, could they? Not that that had worked out very well for her so far, but there was a better chance anyway. First things first, however. She had to get her weapons and horse back. While her weaponry would be up on the upper level, she was going to have to probably enter the guards camp to find her mare. Well that would be fun...but that was how life went. Besides, she'd never had a better mare than her current one, no way she was letting these damned guards have her. She was going to have to go give her brother a talking to as well one of these days. He'd honestly just left her to rot inside a cell and never see the light of day again? What kind of a brother did she have anyway. Muttering to herself under her breath, Siri lifted her palm and started to pick at the sliver with her right hand while she made her way over to the stairs, attempting to get it out before it started to fester and become a problem. Opening the door somewhat quickly, she took a few extra seconds to work at her slivers before quietly moving past the open door and toward the steps. Unfortunately, she hadn't seen the hulking nord that just happened to be her brother waiting for her. If she had, she might have just kicked him and ran past. {NOTES} I missed it a lot too XD

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by Tom Petty

Tagged : Siri | Words : 432 | Notes : I apologize for the length. 8'D But I figured I shouldn't go too far if she wants to beat his brains in or something.

Imagining what Siri might do if she hadn't been allowed to leave to begin with, and if he hadn't still been standing in the makeshift dungeon, made Fjoldir shake his head in both amusement and disappointment. If she worked this hard on getting out of her cell, she would have probably broken a few more of the guards on her way out and gotten herself situated on a chopping block before the day was over. He couldn't exactly let this lesson from today rest, could he? Well, unless their parents caught wind of it and gave her a age's worth of lectures whenever she visited home - and Fjoldir wouldn't be telling them if Siri didn't, because it would only cause more trouble - he'd have to take care of getting through to her himself. He was surprised she didn't just use her forehead to bash her way through one of the walls, as hard as that head of hers was. One day, he'd get through to her, but Fjoldir doubted that today would be that day. No, today, he'd just have to get her under control...such would be more than enough of a chore.

He stood and waited, noting how distracted she looked as she crossed into his line of sight. He crossed his arms over his chest to watch her approach the short set of stairs up to the exit, still shaking his head. Of course, he could let her leave without him, and the guards would get suspicious. Maybe that would put more sense into her head. But she'd probably punch one of them, or wrestle them down, or at worse, run them through with their own swords. Actually, letting her just pass by was really no choice at all, so Fjoldir spoke up. "I'm not sure if you know this," he began, staring at her impassively. "But they already released you. The guard's family won't leave you alone anytime soon, but this was never business for the city guards. Jarl Balgruuf doesn't want them to dabble in business with the Stormcloaks or Imperials." With a shrug, Fjoldir stepped towards her and past, putting himself beside the stairs. "And are you going to take action when his family approaches you that gets you back in a jail cell?"

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #171818; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #171818 solid; border-bottom: 10px #171818 solid;] You can stand me up at the gates of hell but I won’t back down {WORDS } 655 {TAGGED } Moldy Oldy {WEARING} Stormcloak armor Siri had just gotten a hold of the sliver with her fingernails to pull it out - as triumphant a look crossed her features as when she'd sprang herself from her cell - when the mild tone of voice caused her to abandon her digging. While her foot had been resting on the step leading to the upper level, Siri whirled halfway around, her hand reaching for the sword at her side. Unfortunately, that made her remember her sword wasn't in it's sheath and it was her good for nothing brother standing up against the side of the wall looking like he owned the place. Giving him an obstinate look, she leaned her own self against the door and returned to digging her sliver from her finger. She was sure he wanted to throttle her - the look he had just spelled that out for her - but Siri refused to back down on this issue. He was trying to change her mind, but she was trying to get him to listen to reason. Why was it such a hard thing for the men to understand that they didn't want to be treated in the way they were currently? She'd bash as many heads in as necessary for it to get past their thick skulls - Stormcloak or otherwise. When he joined her by the staircase, Siri didn't acknowledge him right away. Instead she pulled the sliver free and inspected it as if it were the most thrilling thing the world had ever seen. "I was locked up like an animal, how would I know?" All over again she got angry. What business was it of theirs anyway? With her jaw set in her typical 'I won't change my opinion, so you'd best change yours' face, Siri looked up at him. "When the battle is rough, Jarl Balgruuf is going to find himself in the middle of both sides. That's not a pleasant place to be.", she pointed out. While Siri respected him for the choice - and having the guts (since she didn't think courage had anything to do with body parts only men had) to stand up really against both sides - sometimes she thought it would be easier to be one or the other. "If the family of that good for nothing lout think they're going to toss me back in a place like this, they can just back down.", she growled under her breath. Giving him another look, she finally relented, knowing what he wanted. "I won't seek them out, but Fjoldir, if they come after me with pitchforks, I'll give 'em something to really complain about." Kicking at the board to make a scuffing noise in frustration, Siri swept the sliver off her finger tip and crossed her arms. "Serves them right for raising such a good for nothing, pig brained, idiot.", she grumped out. "Now. Did I pass? Can we go get my weapons and horse, please?" {NOTES} This is exactly what siblings are like XD

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by Tom Petty