#for anyone curious about the dovah its just a snippet from the dragonborn theme that I really wanted to incooperate lol

[arimabari]

Kyne's Priestess

Not really a microfic so much as a snippet from the longfic I'm writing, but I really enjoyed how I wrote Kyne/Kynareth and wanted to show it off here Basic Summary: a priestess of Kynareth (and unknowing Dragonborn) gets scolded by her patron for being a shut in. 907 words.

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An autumn wind channeled through the woods of the West Weald, causing fallen leaves to dance and the river to run faster than its usual flow. Tatia emerged like an angry nymphe rising from her stream, silently cursing the wave that almost sent her drifting down the bend. She didn’t need a word of discipline to know that her patron felt scorned. The woods themselves would punish her, and with their own innate cruelty: a reminder that what sustains her can just as easily consume her if taken for granted. The priestess closed her eyes, took in a breath, then started towards camp. 

As she padded along the grass, the shadow of a bird cast itself above her head. It held in the air, capturing the morning sun on its back, then settled on a nearby branch where her clothes hung dry. The creature bore the resemblance of an eagle, with sharp talons and brown-speckled wings that stretched the length of its perch - but that was where the similarities ended. Its face had no eyes, no golden beak, but was flattened instead by a clay mask which mirrored the visage of man. The creature craned its neck to an unnatural degree and spoke to her in hushed whispers, like a whistle in the breeze. 

“Teach you to forget your morning hymns, my little flightless thing.” 

“You’ll forgive me if I’m not in a singing mood.” Tatia muttered, her voice lacking in warmth or sincerity. She paid no mind to it as she stood by the campfire and started wringing the water from her soot-painted curls. “I hardly slept last night with all the noise coming from the road.”

The creature laughed, and it sounded like chimes beating against the wind. “Ah, yes! The men in the painted wagons! I was drawn to them in the night after I fell out of a breeze. They had built a fire that burned large and bright, and around that fire they sang and danced and played little pipes until morning dewdrops freshened in the new day. So drunk they were on wine and mirth that they collapsed right there in the grass and made a bed of it!” 

“I’m sure you kept their fire burning long after its time.” Tatia remarked.

“I did.” the creature mused. She could hear the smile in its voice. “I kept it low and steady - strong enough to keep them warm but not scorching, and I watched over their sleeping bodies like a mother guards her young. Before long they crawled into their little wagons and cracked the reins, and the hooved beasts carried them off into the horizon.” it then remarked, “I might have been more generous with you this morning, had you half a mind to join them!” 

The priestess scoffed at that. “I hate large gatherings. You know that.” 

“Hate!” the creature made a hissing noise and beat its wings against the air in a huff. “Oh, and how well you keep it! Your heart is surely made of stone. It holds no joy, no sorrow, nor anything that breathes life into your fellow man. How often I’ve brought you sweet smells and pleasant melodies only for you to turn your head. You’ve never once delighted in them - not one! And there is no greater offense to me than that.” 

“Then find some other priest to sing your praises at the crack of dawn.” Tatia whipped around to glare at the beast, her thick brows furrowed with contempt. “The things that live in these woods are protected so long as I’m here to keep it that way. That is the promise I made to you.”  

“Yes.” the creature replied, speaking softly and with immeasurable patience. “I know very well the promise that you made, just as I know the company you keep with the larks and the roaming bear, and the willows longing for their wild youth in the days of old Cyrod. It is through their eyes that I have watched you crawl upon the green like a low and humble beast, spitting at anything that may disturb the peace.” The creature paused and beat its wings against the air once more. It dug its talons into the linen folds hanging on the branch, then took to the air with them - only to drop them on the priestess’ head.

Tatia cursed, her voice muffled the fabric. “Hey-!”

“But you are neither lowly nor humble.” the creature continued. “And I did not make you so you could spend your days frolicing among daisies. For seven years you have stood as vigil as the hare, witnessing the world from the safety of your den - but you will not lay sleeping forever.” a strong gust of wind flung the creature higher into the air, and it sang in tongues unknown to the priestess below. 

“Ahrk fin zul, rok drey kod, nau tol morokei frod. Rul lot Taazokaan motaad voth kein.” it circled above her, chanting. “Nuz aan sul, fent alok, fod fin vul dovah nok. Fen kos nahlot mahfaeraak ahrk ruz!”

The priestess pulled the linen from her face and watched on in stubborn silence. She expected the creature to leave her with that, as it always does. It talks and talks, and by the time she thinks to question it, it takes to the sky without a word.

Serves me right for thinking I could have a quiet morning to myself, she thought.

#tesfic #microfic #wip #the elder scrolls #skyrim #tes skyrim #kyne #kynareth #Tatia Stormcrown (oc) #Dovahkiin #for anyone curious about the dovah its just a snippet from the dragonborn theme that I really wanted to incooperate lol