Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and works; all other characters and worlds belong to their respective owners. I'm just playing with them.
Betad by Marethyu, Priapus
The Celestial Farmer
Chapter 10: Barioth's Meal
– Ulfric Stormcloak –
If he were a younger man, before his time with the Greybeards, he might have pushed Jorgen to join him instantly. He had not succeeded in his training with the old men on that mountain, but that didn't mean he hadn't learnt a lot from Arngeir and the others.
He might also have sneered at the idea of a Son of Skyrim wasting his time with Dwemer nonsense. He wasn't that naive, young man anymore. He'd seen too much for that, and if he were half as barbaric as the Empire painted him, he'd never have gotten this far, nor would he have so many followers.
Instead, he'd done what he came here for. He spoke with Korir about the troops he'd station to patrol the new roads and man the fort to keep it clear of bandits and Imperials. In truth, he expected it to be an easy job for the green recruits he got that barely knew which side of the axe to hit people with. And as they'd discussed things, he'd walked the newly repaired fort with a deep, thoughtful frown.
Walls that should be crumbling stood tall, battlements and towers being built before his very eyes. Jorgen held no interest in their negotiations, he had been hired to fix the fort and that was what he planned to do. It didn't take long for Ulfric to realise that it wasn't that Jorgen disliked them, but a sheer disinterest in him and his cause. Galmar had tried to shame Jorgen for not doing his part for the true Sons of Skyrim, and Jorgen had outright laughed at him, waving his hand dismissively and telling Galmar to stop distracting him when he had work to do.
Ulfric had reigned in Galmar. He appreciated how devoted to the cause his right-hand man was, but he had quickly realised that speeches weren't going to budge Jorgen.
"Dwemer trickery- I don't trust it," Galmar mumbled, but Ulfric just gave him a look, and his right-hand man stopped his grumbling and climbed onto the 'train'. He wasn't sure about this either, but he had seen it delivering supplies to the fort several times throughout the day, and his militaristic mind was screaming about the potential of a faster way to move troops and goods throughout Skyrim.
As Galmar finally got on, Jorgen did something, and the train began to move. The sounds of dwemer machinery churning away made Galmar jump, and even Ulfric felt himself grip his axe a little tighter. He pretended he didn't see Jorgen laugh at their reactions, as the cold, frozen wastes of Winterhold passed them by. It was faster than any horse-drawn carriage and did not need to be stopped to be fed or watered. It was revolutionary, if it worked as Jorgen claimed.
Korir believed him, and his explanation had simply been 'nothing makes sense around Jorgen, but he's never been wrong yet'.
Ulfric was starting to see what Korir meant, as the train brought them to Winterhold in incredible time. He could have put his fastest rider and sent them to gallop to Winterhold, and the train would still beat them. Leisurely, at that. The ride was smooth, warm, and covered from the rain and snow in the carriage meant for passengers.
The Empire would not permit the Nords to keep this… invention. He could see it now, how quickly the Empire would swarm Winterhold if, when, they learnt of what Jorgen had invented. Then, he could see them having him build a track running from Solitude to the Imperial City itself, moving more troops and goods than he could dream of dealing with.
The train stopped in Winterhold, though he could see where the track could turn to go toward Chillbloom farm instead, and he had to silence his reaction as he saw the crumbling ruin of a city for the first time in years. It was far from recovered, make no mistake, but the streets were paved with perfectly smooth bricks that were untouched by rain or snow, warming the freezing feet of those walking along them. It was getting late, the sun was almost set, and yet the streets were all lit brightly by the evenly spaced posts that glowed without flame. It was not the Winterhold of past days, but it was a sign that, for the first time since the Collapse, they were rebuilding.
Korir welcomed him into the longhouse, and the moment they stepped through the door, the cold of the northern night was replaced with a cosy warmth. The Jarl's Longhouse was no match for his keep or the seats of power of the other Jarls, like Dragonsreach or the Blue Palace, but the large rune-carved rock sitting in the corner showed that it had some things that even Elisif did not.
"You aren't staying for dinner?" Korir asked, as Jorgen shook his head.
"Not today. I've got a business meeting tonight, then I'll be heading back home," Jorgen explained, clasping Korir's hand for a moment.
"When will the Fort be finished?" Ulfric asked, watching Jorgen stroke his chin.
"At this rate? A week or so. My golems work through the night, through rain, snow or fucking blizzards. The walls were the most damaged, and I've fixed up the prison and basement today," Jorgen answered. "I'll be by to check on the progress and make sure that the golems are following my designs, but at this point it's just a waiting game."
Waiting. As if a week was some ungodly amount of time. It'd take him longer than that to gather the men who'd be manning the fort.
"Korir, Jarl Ulfric," Jorgen said, giving them both a nod as he turned and headed back out into the snow. Ulfric watched him leave for a moment, before he shook his head and turned back to Korir. Korir clearly knew what was coming, as if he wanted Stormcloaks defending his land, his support would have to increase as well, and yet…
Korir remained unbothered, agreeing to supply steel for his men and food for the winter. He refused to provide more men, pointing out that most of the young men of Winterhold had already gone south to join the war, or west to find work in Dawnstar, and they just didn't have the men to give.
What they did have was far more food and steel. Korir didn't bother to hide the truth: Jorgen had set up his own mining operations in several places using his golems, and the farm was making more food than he could sell, and he'd sold both to Korir at a discount, along with sending a cut as his taxes. It meant that, for once, Winterhold had an excess of materials. Enough to give away food right before a winter, and that wasn't something many Holds could say.
For now, Ulfric left it at that. He couldn't act too slowly, but haste would only antagonise Jorgen.
And something told him that Jorgen was far more dangerous than he acted.
– Jorgen – Next Day –
As much as I'm improving things, there is still a noticeable problem. I'm still too fucking productive. With everything, my farm, workshop and mines are pumping out product, and it's all just sitting there filling my storehouses.
100cp granted. 300cp total.
Trading to Winterhold is a good start, but it's going to take a long time to return it to any kind of prosperity, especially with winter coming. The people of Winterhold buy the essentials (and alcohol, which is basically an essential for Nords), but the more luxury goods I can produce are beyond their means for now.
"I know I'm repeating myself, but are you sure about this?" Birna asks, getting my attention from where I was designing her new store. See, I need a salesperson and Birna, while only running a small store, managed to make a profit selling whatever she could get her hands on in Winterhold, while her drunk of a brother tried his best to bankrupt them.
I'm not a salesperson. I'm not a merchant who can advertise and make deals. Frankly, I don't want to be because any time I spend negotiating is time I could have been building, inventing or farming.
"I am. You're a good merchant, and trustworthy. The only problem that comes with you is your drunk of a brother, and that's why we're doing things this way," I say bluntly. Birna frowns for a moment, but she doesn't disagree.
Birna's Oddments is closing, and she's joining the Chillbloom Trading Company. She'll be running my warehouse and first true store that I'm having built here in Winterhold. It'll be far bigger than hers, which is just set up in the ground floor of her house, and connected to the warehouse and train station. She'll handle both wholesale and individual purchases, because she already has the connections and the skills to do so. The power of delegating cannot be denied.
Because she's joining my company, Ranmir can't just plunder her safe or steal goods to fuel his drinking money. If he wants to keep his habits up, he'll have to actually earn his keep for once. I'm also putting her in charge of hiring a set of guards for the Winterhold branch. We certainly have the money. Ranmir will not be one of them, unless he can get his raging alcoholism under control. The warehouse has a small squad of golems that can handle the heavy lifting and will take orders from Birna.
Her real goal will be to spread my goods into Windhelm, Dawnstar and Riften. I've sent a letter to the Jarl of Dawnstar, apologising for my delay, but I know a thing or two about how to deal with his type. I pointed out the repaired fort and how it was done for Jarl Ulfric, and suddenly, Skald the Elder didn't give a damn that I hadn't shown up yet.
From 'How dare you ignore my summons?' to 'Oh, for Ulfric? Feel free to show up seventeen years late.'
Does he know that the timeline isn't quite as I claimed? No, and I don't plan to correct his mistake. His fanaticism is going to cause me problems going forward, so the least it can do is benefit me a little in the meantime.
Birna will handle negotiating with other inns, general stores and other potential clients on my behalf. Once I've got the contracts set up, I can arrange transportation of the goods to the relevant cities. Riften is going to be a problem because it's a crime-riddled shithole, but there's good money there, and both the silk from Nerscylla and the alchemical cosmetic goods will be more popular in a place like that. They'd be far more popular in Solitude, but that's a long trip when I don't have my port finished yet.
She's also going to send out feelers to Windhelm to look for people to staff my fishery when it is finished. Winterhold has plenty of unemployed people, but no experience in fishing or sailing. Windhelm has an excess of experienced Argonians working at the docks.
The point is, Birna has the contacts and skills to handle a lot of the more dull work, and I have the money to pay her a damn good salary to do so. We both win here, and I suspect she's going to make me more money than she is costing me.
Feat Achieved: Hire your first employee (100cp). 100cp granted, 400cp total.
I suppose Sudi isn't really an employee, she's practically a part of the family at this point.
[The Leviathan Axe] - 400cp, 0cp remaining
Source: God Of War (2018)
Ah, a mighty weapon indeed. This weapon was infused with the echoing screams of twenty frost trolls, giving it great power. It has been inscribed with the runes for ice, allowing it to deal ice damage to its foes, and a rune to recall it to its wielder's hand. Best not to let the Huldra brothers see you using this unless you want to cause a lot of confusion. This weapon is equivalent to their tier nine version.
Now this is a proper weapon, for a proper Nord.
I'm still not going on any goddamn adventures.
It's not like my farm has that much to fight-
Feat Achieved: Kill a Dragon (200cp). 200cp granted, 200cp total.
"Sorry, Birna. Something has come up," I grumble, getting an easy nod from her.
"I'll start sending out the samples and letters. I know more merchants on this side of Skyrim, even got some contacts as far as Falkreach," Birna promises. She's sick of the status quo, dancing on the brink of poverty in a frozen town. She's a good enough merchant to see the benefits of making sure I succeed.
Heading home, I already know what I'm going to find when I get there. I don't need my connection to the land or any of my powers to know exactly what's happened here.
I can see Sudi, Danica, Ciri, and the Companions gathered around. I can hear their shock and awe. I ignore it as I storm past them, and right past the dragon that's currently on my porch.
"I'm not cooking a bloody dragon, you overgrown cat," I shout, seeing Barioth resting on his hind legs, head tilted. He lets out a whining noise, his body covered in cuts and his fur scorched. "I don't know how to cook dragon meat! What do you expect me to do with this?"
His rebellious hiss makes me sigh.
"Fine, drag it to the storehouse, and we can try butchering it. You menace, where did you even find this?" I groan, rubbing my forehead as he lets out a triumphant purr.
At this point, I can't even bring myself to be surprised as I look over the massive flying lizard he's dragged into the farm. Its scales are shredded in places, and one of its wings is almost torn off entirely. I've heard whispers about Helgen being destroyed by a dragon,
"Jorgen, where did he find this thing?" Aela asks, her face a mixture of awe, excitement and fear.
"In the mountains, apparently. Mount Anthor," I say, nodding me head at the mountain. "I don't suppose you're available for hire?"
"Always," Aela laughs. "You want us to check it out?"
"Aye. Barioth can lead you to where he found the fucking thing. I don't expect you to fight any more dragons, just find out if any are lurking in the mountains. I'll make Ria and Njada a weapon each," I offer, getting a nod.
"Deal," Aela agrees easily.
[Monster Hunter: Subspecies: Frostfang Barioth] - 100cp, 100cp remaining.
Upgrades your Barioth to a Frostfang Barioth. A Barioth variant capable of spewing a sub-zero breath attack that it uses to slow down prey.
As Barioth comes back, preening and showing off, I take a moment to look at his new form. He's a little bigger, but the main change is his scales, which have become almost silver, as well as his fangs and spikes. He's also gained a thicker coat of fluffy white fur (which Sudi buries her face in).
Oh yeah, that's just what we needed. Barioth getting more dangerous. The smug cat stares at me, shifting his weight from foot to foot, before I grunt.
"Go show the girls where you found that thing. I'll get to work butchering it," I sigh. I spoil this damn cat.
– Later –
With a warehouse full of dragon bones and scales, I have to admit…
Dragon meat tastes damn good. It's a little spicy, but not so much as to be unpleasant. Aela was able to confirm that it was alone, finding the sight of their battle and some weird wall full of writing she couldn't read.
With [Dragon Communion], I ate the dragon's heart. I could tell that it wasn't truly dead after Barioth 'slew' it, its chi was still active. It sure as fuck wasn't active after I ritually ate its heart and absorbed it into myself. I haven't told Barioth that he technically didn't finish it off, as he'd pout. It's not a pretty sight.
Barioth has reached an all-time high of smugness, as he devours his massive dragon steaks. I think he saw the dragon as a threat to his status as the apex predator of Winterhold and didn't take kindly to the competition. Still, a bloody dragon? Haven't been dragons around these parts for thousands of years.
Things are getting strange, and deep down in my heart, I know that someone is trying to get me to go on an adventure.
They can fuck off.
The world rumbles, a voice calling out the words 'Dovahkiin' across the entirety of Skyrim. I pick up the plate that fell off the table from the shaking, and promptly put it out of my mind. Whatever that is, it's none of my business.
– Danica Pure-Spring –
Meditating under the Heart tree, she extended her senses to the land itself. She still wasn't as good at it as Jorgen himself, who seemed beloved by nature and Kynareth, but with each day it came a little easier.
She felt his presence long before she heard his footsteps, opening her eyes and rising as Jorgen approached. Her body responded far more easily, despite her age, the power of the Green flowing through her. She didn't quite understand how Jorgen's powers worked, but the 'green magic' he used was undeniably linked to nature itself, and as a Priestess of Kynareth, it came all too easily for her. She could feel Kynareth's presence with each spell cast, her Goddess' warm embrace.
"You wanted to talk to me?" Jorgen asked, cutting to the chase as always. His clothes were muddy, as he'd clearly just finished his farm work for the day.
"I did," Danica agreed. "Would it be possible for you to come to Whiterun, for just a short time?"
She'd learnt to just be blunt with Jorgen and get to the point. Jorgen frowned for a moment, scratching his chin.
"When?" Jorgen asked, not denying her request instantly. "And why?"
"Soon, when the Companions return home. I plan to return with them for a short time. I wasn't planning to be away this long, and I need to check on the temple and see to some matters. I was hoping to plant a weirwood tree in the place of the destroyed Gildergreen and teach some of my acoytles how to communicate with them. It's hard to explain, but I've felt a… pull to do so, and I truly believe this is Lady Kynareth's desire, but I also don't think I'm good enough with green magic to do it myself yet," Danica admitted. Jorgen scratched his beard again before nodding.
"Aye, we can do that. With the Chocobos, it shouldn't be a long trip. Harvest isn't for a while, and the farm is settled enough at the moment. Sudi can handle the animals," Jorgen agreed. "If Lady Kynareth wants a heart tree, who am I to deny her?"
Danica let out a relieved sigh, unsure why she'd been worried to begin with. Learning that every Weirwood was connected, and that she could move her senses to any tree on the farm, or use them to communicate with Jorgen if he was at another tree, had set this idea in her head. She was still feeling guilty about leaving Whiterun to fend for itself. Having a way to communicate with her temple would relieve a lot of her stress.
"When are the Companions heading back?" Jorgen asked, and Danica could only shrug.
"Soon, but they haven't mentioned an exact date," Danica replied easily.
"Let me know when you have a better idea of when you want to head to Whiterun," Jorgen said, giving her a firm nod. "Now, since we're here, we might as well continue your training."
Straightening up, she felt a certain warmth from within as Jorgen guided her through the next steps of her training, knowing that Kynareth was smiling down on her.
– Jorgen – Later –
"You're heading to Whiterun?" Sudi asks, and I give her a nod.
"For a short time. Danica wants to check on her temple, and we're going to plant a heart tree there. She wants my help to encourage its growth. I'm better at using green magic to encourage plant growth than she is," I explain. "I'm also going to look into hiring some security for the farm. Barioth does a good job, but he's a little too whimsical and wanders too much. If I'm going to be away on business, I want someone here to stop thefts or anything worse."
"Don't worry about me, Barioth always stays closer when you aren't around," Sudi reassures me as I take my seat. Instantly, she places a mug of dwarven brew in my hands. "I can handle the animals, and the golems can help with anything heavy."
"You're a lifesaver, Sudi," I praise, taking a sip as she places her hands on my shoulders, gently massaging them.
"I'm the lady of the house, this much is expected when you're working so hard, Jorgen," Sudi whispers, working her hands a little harder. She's not wrong. She really has become the woman of the house, especially when it comes to seeing to the guests, which I'll admit that I'm not great at.
I sometimes forget we even have guests, busy with my work and interests to worry. We've had a few pilgrims come from the nearby area to see the Hot Spring or Weirwoods, and Sudi is always the one to see to them. I think Danica's letters have attracted a fair amount of attention. My general thought process is that if they're not getting in the way, they're welcome to spend the night at the guest house. I keep the guest house stocked up, and as long as they don't go overboard, they're welcome to a night's rest and a meal.
Oddly enough, Barioth prowling the farm as he pleases seems to do a lot to convince people not to cause trouble.
We even have a regular in the form of a mage called Tolfdir from the College. He stops by twice a week to soak in the Hot Spring. It was easy enough to separate a part off for guests and keep the rest for private use, so it doesn't even inconvenience us. Korir and his wife have tried it as well. Korir thought it was weird to just waste time soaking, but his wife liked it so he had better get used to it as well. Happy wife, happy life. Jarl or not, nobody wants to deal with an unpleasant home life because you pissed off your wife.
Moving in front of me, Sudi hesitates for a moment as I wait patiently. I decided I wasn't going to make any moves on the understandably traumatised teenage girl, but if she makes the decision herself, I'm not going to turn her down either. She bites her bottom lip as she slowly slides her nightgown off her body with a nervous smile. She's… softer than Ciri or Aela, even if the farm life has kept her in shape. She's also rather blessed as she stands before me, utterly naked, with her large, ebony breasts on display.
"You work so hard, Jorgen, it's only fair that I help you relax after your work," Sudi whispers, leaning forward to plant a soft kiss on my lips. My hands come to her curvy hips, made for childbirth, and grope her plump backside as she moans into the kiss. "I am the woman of the house, after all," she finishes impishly, slowly lowering herself down onto her knees.
"You are," I agree. I don't ask if she's sure as she deftly undoes my bottoms and pulls out my already hardening shaft. She has been working up the confidence to do this for a long time, after all. Instead, I gently stroke her hair as she gasps a little at my size. Yeah, Ciri and Aela were impressed as well, and I'm pretty sure both are more experienced than the almost certainly virginal Sudi.
Slowly stroking it, she bites her lip again as she stares at it with something close to awe mixed with some excitement and hesitation. My cock twitches in her hand, making her jump before she giggles and leans in, planting a soft kiss on the side of it. Her strokes are slow and deliberate, far gentler than the rough sex Ciri and Aela prefer, but certainly not unpleasant as she kisses it again, keeping her lips against it for a moment as she makes an audible 'mwah' before giggling again.
"Just… relax and enjoy this, Jorgen," Sudi says, trying to sound sultry, but her voice cracks a little. She blushes, which is hard to see on her already dark cheeks, but she hides it well as she takes the tip into her mouth.
Her inexperience is obvious as the crown of my cock taps the back of her throat, making her gag slightly as she tries to get used to this, but that just makes it more enjoyable because I am definitely her first. She's careful not to let her teeth brush against it, and her tongue is outright eager in how it swirls around my cock, rubbing against the underside as it writhes. She takes my hand into hers, lacing our fingers as her free hand moves down to stroke her pussy.
As she moves, her bobbing becomes more refined and controlled, the jerkiness fading away to a much smoother pace, and while it's nowhere near as wild as Ciri or Aela, I can't say I don't love it.
"Fuck," I grunt, her tongue teasing the tip for a moment as she smiles, never breaking eye contact. Pulling back, she releases it with a popping sound and smiles, kissing her way down my length to take one of my balls into her mouth for a moment, her hand moving to stroke me again.
"That's it," Sudi purrs, her voice more confident this time. "Don't hold back, baby."
Her pumping picks up pace, growing faster as she gains more confidence, her blushing, shy smile replaced with a proud smirk as she places a trail of kisses along my shaft and takes it back into her mouth. It's a lot for someone to handle, but she's a determined girl, as she pushes herself to take more and more until her nose is buried in my pelvic region. Her eyes widen, and I can feel her gagging a little, but Sudi might just be as stubborn as any Nord as she pushes herself regardless of little things like 'breathing'.
With a groan, I cum and she instantly begins to swallow as my seed is pumped down her throat. Her eyes widen slightly, some escaping the side of her lips and dripping down her chin and onto her breasts. It turns out Redguard girls look damn good with a fine coating of Nord seed, and as the final spurt fills her mouth, she pulls back with a gasp. She's a mess, drool and seed leaking down her chin, but she beams up at me so beautifully.
I go to speak, but she rises to her feet with a small, smug smile as she wipes the seed from her breasts and licks her finger clean.
"Dinner will be ready soon. Get cleaned up, you don't want to get dirt on the chairs again," Sudi scolds, a proud smile on her face as she turns and walks away, not bothering to dress as her hips sway with each step.
Yeah, she's the lady of the house in a way that Ciri is incapable of being.
Damn.
— Bonus Scene — Elenwen
"And you are certain?" Elenwen asked for the third time. The mage before her scowled at being made to repeat himself, but he knew his place and didn't argue.
"Of course, I would not make such a claim without being certain," he replied, his tone clipped and irritated. Even still, she could tell how shaken he was. She didn't blame him. "Jorgen is one of the Ehlnofey. I checked and double-checked, but every investigation only confirmed my fears. Why would an ancestor spirit take on the form of a Nord?"
Elenwen didn't respond for a moment, shaken to her core. It was no wonder that Ancano had thought this was worth backstabbing her for. An Ehlnofey, an Earthbones, living on a farm in the frozen north of Skyrim?
"Who else have you told?" Elenwen asked, her tone holding a great deal of threat in it, her words dripping with venom. He froze, before he stuttered out a 'nobody'. She believed him. He realised his mistake in an instant, a strangled spell on his lips before she closed the distance. She was a better mage, but trying to cast a spell at this close range was a mistake. A dagger was far more reliable, and hers lashed out, slicing his throat before he could finish his spell, the lightning spell fizzling out harmlessly as she watched him fall with uncaring eyes.
This would not stay secret for long. Chillbloom was attracting far too much attention, and the College was right next door. But this would keep it hidden from the rest of the Thalmor until then, at least.
It would buy her time to decide what the fuck she was supposed to do about this. Ehlnofey were sacred to her people, their honoured ancestors spirits, but why would an Aedric spirit take on the form of a Nord?
It was an insult, a disaster and an opportunity all wrapped into one.
What she did know was that she wasn't going to be as foolish as Ancano. Did he truly think he'd be able to capture an Aedra, even one in mortal form? She'd truly overestimated his intelligence.
By Auri-El, she hoped Ancano hadn't angered the spirit. The situation in Skyrim was chaotic enough for the Thalmor without an Ehlnofey with a grudge coming for them.