Dinner had been surprisingly good. Basic stuff, but healthy and filling. Beef stew, swimming with chunks of vegetables, thick slices of bread with lots of butter, and the ever popular wheel of cheese made an appearance. Afterward I had asked about Hadvar’s friend, who turned out to be a tall, dark Nord. At least I had a bit of a description to go on now. I also asked about how safe the roads were. Alvor gave me a big rundown, but it was summed up by two words. Not safe.

Afterwards, I was offered a bed and climbed into it gratefully. It did not take long however for me to have company though. Little Dorthe, snuggled right up against my back and pulled me in close to her. Alvor shooed her right out, having seen it all as the beds were all in the same common room. Three times Alvor shooed her out and three times she tried to sneak back in not five minutes later.

“It’s not a problem,” I told Alvor, and to Dorthe I said, “But no mane braiding. Deal?”

“Fine,” Dorthe said, pouting a bit in her sack-like nightgown. “But I get to snuggle until it’s time to get up, right?”

“Sounds good,” I said, feeling myself pulled in tight, like a big stuffed animal. “Time for sleep.”

“Okay, pony,” Dorthe said, and I could feel her cheek against my fur. I’ve heard it said that kids emit some sort of subatomic radiation that makes adults sleep. “Sleepions” I think they were called. Regardless though, the food and the warmth had me nodding off in very short order. So, it was with little surprise that I found myself on a grassy field under a moonlit sky.

“Luna?” I asked, out loud realizing I was in a dream. “Is that you? Are you out here?” There was no response. I looked around in case one of those things that had tried to feed off my fear in the dream realm was coming after me again. Still nothing.

“Your princess of the moon isn’t here, my bold pony,” a honey warm voice said from behind me. I whirled in place, lashing out with my rear hooves, only to have my motion arrested in mid-spin as something as rigid as an iron bar grabbed my collar and refused to let go. I was pulled around slowly and saw the smiling face of Mara staring back at me. Once she saw that I had recognized her she let go of me with that deceptively slim arm of hers and stepped back a pace.

“Goddess Mara,” I said, bowing low to the point where my nose touched the grass. “I didn’t know you could be in dreams.”

“Foolish mortal child,” Mara laughed, and her well formed bust made interesting motions I tried my best not to watch. “All mothers dream of their children, and so, the dream realm is open to me.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense,” I said, sitting up onto my haunches. “So, um, what brings you to my dream?”

“When last we met, you became my little pony,” Mara said, chuckling. We both knew I’d been given no choice in the matter, but it was polite of her to pretend there was. “That comes with the obligation to do the bidding of me and my brethren while you walk the face of Nirn.”

“Side quest time, eh?” I asked, and Mara laughed again as she moved both of her arms behind her back. “You’re doing that deliberately, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am,” Mara laughed, leaning a little closer toward me, and I noticed that one of the strings holding her faux-Bavarian top was loose. “I am a fertility goddess after all.”

“Um, thank you? I guess,” I said, not wanting to insult a being who could squash me in an instant if she chose. “What did you need me to do?” Mara brought her arms back around in front, tossing a white sphere up and down. As she bounced it around, I saw that it wasn’t round, but was shaped like one of those many sided dice gamers used. My heart sank as I recognized it.

“Meridia’s Beacon,” Mara said, pleased that I knew what she had in her hand. “You will take this and place it in the chest guarded by the bandit known as ‘Hajvarr.’ I leave the how up to you.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said, bowing low. “If I may ask, where can I find this Hajvarr guy?”

“He and his men have a stronghold in a cave system overlooking Whiterun, which I believe is your next destination,” Mara said, with a sly smile that told me that either she or one of the others had been keeping an eye on me. “They call the place ‘White River Watch.’ A word of advice however.”

“Yes?” I asked, cocking my head up at her.

“As the princesses of your realm would say, ‘Make some friends’,” Mara said, before fading away.

I woke up to find that Dorthe had woken before me and found her finishing off weaving a long ribbon into a braid she had made in my tail. I looked at her over my body for a long minute, before I spoke.

“I thought I said no braids?” I asked her, keeping my voice low to keep from waking the girl’s parents.

“You said no braiding your mane, this is your tail,” Dorthe said, smiling as she took a needle and thread, running a couple of stitches through the ribbon for some reason.

“Fine, done yet?” I asked, surrendering the round to the impeccable logic of a little girl.

“Yup,” she said, giving the braid a light tug. “I don’t like doing lady stuff, but it doesn’t mean I can’t. Now the ribbon won’t come undone.”

“I’m going to take a quick walk outside, okay?” I asked her, and immediately saw a look of hurt in her eyes. “I just want to take a quick walk around. I’ll be back for breakfast.”

“Okay,” Dorthe said, mood restored as she gave me a hug that would put a python to shame. We slipped out of bed to the door and she opened it to let me out, giving me a quick pet as I walked past her.

I waited until I stepped out into the pre-dawn light to roll my eyes at the girl’s method of affection. Not her fault that Discord had set me up as a cute pony and she meant well. For such a harsh world it was nice to see some pure happiness in it. No one seemed to be awake yet, other than a couple of guards at the upstream entrance to town.

I walked out the downstream entrance and stood by the river, just watching the water flow past and inhaling the crisp, clean air. Everything seemed to hold an extra degree of sharpness to it, feeling more alive than either back home on Earth or Equestria. It’s probably why I didn’t notice that I was being hunted.

I heard a quick whistle of air, followed by a sharp pain in one of my hips. I tried to react to the pain, to try to turn to see what had hit me, but it was like every muscle in my body had locked solid. At least my eyes were able to move as I fell to my side, one of my forelegs dangling in the river. Fast moving steps crunched up behind me and something was jammed into my mouth.

Straps were tightened around my head, and I realized that my attacker had bitted and bridled me. A second later and the paralysis that had seized my body released. I kicked out my back legs as hard as I could but hit nothing. The bridle pulled my head around and up, just as something else was jammed into my mouth, and I felt a bitter liquid splash against my tongue and over the bit that was keeping my mouth open. My limbs locked up again, and Faendal the Bosmer elf busied himself locking hobbles onto me while the potion he had force fed me held me still.

“Camilla will see that I’m the better man,” the elf said under his breath. “Hadvar’s friend might have fixed it so she likes Sven, but let’s see how long that lasts.”

The second dose of paralysis poison wore off just as he finished locking the last hobble onto me and pulling all four of my legs against each other. With a clink of metal I looked up at him and made a sound that I hoped translated to “What the fuck, man?”

“Stay quiet and still, or I’ll dose you again. Understood?” he asked, and I realized that no one could see us where we were. Hobbled, with my mouth wedged open by the bit there was no way I could keep him from shoving more crap down my throat, so I nodded my understanding.

“Good,” he said, then he knelt on my side, pinning me to the ground. There was a pulling motion followed by a sharp pain from my ass and I saw an arrow being thrown into the river. Then he hoisted me up onto his shoulders and carried me away like a deer he’d shot down.

“Not far to go,” Faendal said, as he carried me around the side of town that fetched up against the mountainside. I looked around, hoping to see someone around, but no one was in sight as Faendal carried me into a small house that I assumed was his. I let out an explosive grunt as he levered me off his shoulders and onto a small bed.

“Whag ghe heww, mam?” I garbled past the bit. Now that I’d been forced to live with it for a few minutes I realized Faendal had adapted something meant for a full sized horse. Which meant, that if I had a few moments without him watching me I should be able to get some slack from the straps and slip free.

“Just a moment,” Faendal said, pulling yet another potion bottle out of his belt and holding me down as I tried to thrash away. A couple of seconds later my tongue was covered in a warm liquid that tasted of pure honey, and I felt the pain in my ass cheek wash away in the healing flow.

“There you are,” the elf said, running a hand over my butt and smoothing the hairs there. “Can’t give Camilla damaged goods after all. Let’s get you up.” Faendal picked me up off the bed and stood me on my too close together hooves. Tying off the lines of the bridle to the foot of the bed, he started brushing me down.

“C'mom, wou bom'g have go bo ghif. We cam gawk aboug ghif,” I said, trying to form words around the metal bar that held down my tongue. I could have been shouting in Klingon for all the good it did me. Faendal didn’t even react.

“She’ll see,” he kept saying under his breath. “I’ll show her I’m better than Sven when I give her the most unique creature in all of Skyrim.”

Losing Camilla and having his fake letter revealed must have completely unhinged him, I realized. My best options were to either try to get loose and run for it when he eventually went to give me to Camilla Valerius, or to go along with things and get Camilla to free me after Faendal gave me to her. I was just damned lucky he was a good shot, otherwise his arrow could have killed me instead of just injecting me with that poison.

“There you go,” Faendal said, several minutes later as he put aside the brush and curry comb. “Now you look good enough for the fairest woman in all of Skyrim.” I moved my hooves a bit, trying to steady myself.

“I’m going to get your new owner for you now, are you going to be good?” Faendal said, and I nodded in response.

Which is when the bastard looped a noose around my neck and pulled it up tight off of one of the beams in the ceiling, leaving me not quite strangling. It was a crude but effective way to keep me in place. If I tried to move, I’d cut off my air. With my hooves fastened to each other by the hobbled I couldn't reach up to undo the noose or try to get the bridle off.

My only option would be to try to flip myself onto my back and pray that I could undo the noose before I strangled. Those were not odds I wanted to test, so I settled for concentrating on staying on my hooves. I was wobbling pretty good when Faendal came back.

“Camilla please, let me just show you what I have for you,” he said, standing in the open door and looking back. “Owning him will make the Riverwood Trader famous. People will come from all around to shop and buy things from you and Lucan.”

“Fine, but only a couple of minutes,” Camilla said, walking in through the door past Faendal. “This had better…” Her voice trailed off as she saw me.

“Geg me ghe fuck oug of ghif,” I gasped to Camila, and her mouth opened in a little “o” of surprise.

“Faendal, you idiot,” Camilla said, pulling out a belt knife and cutting the noose that kept me in place. “This little pony is an Imperial Courier. Do you know the penalties for what you’ve done?”

“What?” Faendal said, trying to wrap his head around the fact that his “gift” wasn’t turning out the way he planned. “Imperial Courier? What are you talking about? He’s just an animal that’s been trained to make deliveries and pretend to talk.”

“No, Faendal,” Camilla said, reaching down to undo the chains that connected my hobbles. “He actually talks. He made a delivery last night to Delphine and spoke to Ognar. Everyone in the inn heard him, people were talking about it all night.”

“I… I haven’t been in the Sleeping Giant since—” Faendal began, and I could see the realization begin on his face at what he had done.

“Since Hadvar’s friend showed me the letter you wrote,” Camilla said, interrupting him. “The one you tried to use to make me hate Sven.”

“I just wanted to give you something special, something unique to show you how I feel about you,” Faendal said, head hanging and shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I know,” Camilla said, clipping a set of reins Faendal had handy, to my bridle, “and I thank you for him. You realize that I’m going to have to hide him until they stop looking for him?”

I looked at Camilla in shock as she looped the reins around one of her wrists and began to walk out of the house, pulling me with her. I could barely believe it. The woman actually intended to keep me as some sort of display piece at the Riverwood Trader.

“So, does this mean you love me?” Faendal said, the hope in his eyes almost more than I could bear and I realized what had pushed him into doing what he had done.

“It means that I’m willing to give you another chance,” Camilla said, pulling me out into the early morning daylight. “This could be just what I need to convince Lucan to try to bring in some more customers.”

“Awe wou beobwe aww cwazw?” I demanded, digging my hooves into the ground.

“Either you cooperate,” Camilla said softly, into my ear, “Or I’ll have Faendal slit your throat right here, right now. A stuffed pony won’t be as good as a live one, but if you give me any trouble I have no problems with that.” I gulped as I realized that she was dead serious, and I resumed a normal walking stance.

“Good pony, I can tell that we’ll get along fine,” Camilla said, and I followed along, with Faendal bringing up the rear. Luck was with me though as not five minutes later we ran smack into Alvor and Dorthe.

“You found him!” Alvor said, then frowning a moment later as it became obvious I was a captive. “What’s going on here, Camilla?”

“Pony!” Dorthe said, shooting forward past Camilla to grab onto me. “I was worried when you didn’t come back. Father and I have been looking everywhere.”

“Dorthe, move away from them. Now,” Alvor said, in a voice that brooked no dissent and he pulled a heavy blacksmith’s hammer from his belt. Dorthe looked at me with surprise on her face, but moved away when I made a shoo’ing motion with my head.

“It’s my fault,” Faendal said, coming up to me and beginning to work the bridle straps. “I was so upset about Camilla rejecting me that I thought I could give the pony to Camilla as a gift.”

“And that she would take you back,” Alvor finished for the elf, before looking Camilla in the eye. “That doesn’t explain why you’re dragging him off like a Stormcloak to his execution.”

“I… that is,” Camilla sputtered.

“Camilla was going to use me as an attraction for Riverwood Trader,” I said, as Faendal pulled the bridle free. “But not until the heat died down.”

“Camilla, you’re from High Rock,” Alvor said, shaking his head. “So you might not know that this isn’t how we do things in Skyrim. By Ysmir, I’ve a mind to give you a good thrashing. Pony, you’re the one they harmed, what do you think we should do with them?”

“Nothing,” I said. Alvor looked surprised, Dorthe smiled, Camilla looked speculative and Faendal looked like a beaten man. “When this gets out their reputations in Riverwood are going to be ruined. That’s what I want done to them. I want people to know what they tried to do and why.”

“You can’t do that!” Camilla exclaimed, her face going pale. “You’ll ruin me and Lucan. We’ll be run out of town, in the middle of another war.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to hold me captive and threaten to have me killed if I tried to resist,” I said, anger in my voice. “Faendal, I can kind of forgive. What he did was bad, but he did it because he was blinded by passion, but you… you made a conscious decision to do something wrong. You had the chance to do the right thing and all you could see was a pile of gold coins.”

“It wasn’t like that!” Camilla protested. “Faendal made—”

“Do we need to get the guards and let the Jarl decide this?” I asked, and Camilla closed her mouth and slowly shook her head.

“I’ll go pack my things,” Faendal said, still not looking up. “You’ll never have to worry about me again.”

“I think the courier is being very reasonable,” Alvor said, folding his arms over his chest. “You should be thankful he isn’t insisting the Jarl be brought into this.”

“I’ll go tell Lucan what’s happened,” Camilla said, and we let her turn and walk away.

“Faendal, don’t go quite yet,” I said, as an idea came to me. “How would you like to make it up to me?”

“I’d like nothing better, but no one is going to forgive or forget this,” the Bosmer said, spreading his hands wide.

“What if you weren’t around for people to get mad at?” I asked Faendal. “What if people saw you doing the right thing?”

“What do you mean?,” Faendal asked, finally looking at me. “What could I possibly do to make up for all this?”

“Skyrim is a dangerous place,” I said, matter of factly. “I’m not a fighter, and there’s a civil war going on. I could use a bodyguard and I know for a fact you’re a good shot with that bow of yours.” Faendal had the grace to look embarrassed

“I’ve got three deliveries left,” I continued to the elf, who had that look of hope again in his eyes. “Keep me alive until I’m done my job in Skyrim is done and I’ll consider us even.”

“I’ll do it,” Faendal said. “From this point on, I’ll guard your hide like it was my own.”

“Alright then,” I said, holding out a hoof which Faendal gravely shook. “Go grab whatever you think you’re going to need and meet me back at Alvor’s in half an hour.”

“Tell you what,” I said, seeing the sun nearly at its peak and knowing I was going to have to run to make Whiterun before dark. “Next time I’m by this way you can make something for me, okay?”

“Whatever you need,” Alvor said, shaking my hoof, and then looking over at Faendal standing behind me. “You take care of my friend, understood.”

“On my honour,” Faendal said, hand over his heart. “The only way anything will hurt him is over my dead body.” Alvor nodded, Dorthe tried to strangle me one last time, and Faendal and I set off down the road that headed toward Whiterun and other places.

It was a bright sunny day and I alternated between trotting and cantering while my bodyguard loped behind me in a surprisingly efficient jog. I probably should have just done a fast walk, but I still had that problem with my canter being off every few strides and I really wanted to even it out. Long Strides had been firm that the only real cure for it was practice, practice, practice. So that’s what I did for the next few hours as I travelled along the uneven stones of the road.

The sun still had a couple of hours to go before it touched the far horizon, when we reached the point of decision. We could go cross the bridge to my left and head over to Whiterun. Pick up some supplies, maybe hire the wagon to get me to either Solitude or Riften with ease and safety.

Or, I could go follow the road ahead. A little further on, I knew there would be a path going up the steep hillside to a guarded cave entrance. Once inside, there would be an old blind guy, but everyone else would be armed and on their guard. I could probably bullshit our way through all of them, as other than excessively grabby ten year old girls and love sick elves, everyone seemed to respect my status as a courier.

However, that would take a lot of time, and considering what time of day it was we would be looking at night by the time we got out of there. Bodyguard or not, I did not want to be outside of a city or town after dark.

“We’ve got a delivery in the hills up here,” I explained to Faendal, who just stood there, catching his breath. “But I don’t want to be outside after sundown, any suggestions?”

“We could,” Faendal began, pausing again to catch his breath. “We could stop in at Whiterun. There are rooms to rent at the inn there, we could even make a courtesy call on Jarl Balgruuf.”

“Ya, I think you’re right,” I said, turning to my left. “Let’s go visit Whiterun.”

Author's Note

So, that took a little longer than expected, but nothing is ever simple. Is it?

Hopefully having a bodyguard will be helpful. At least Faendal isn't "sworn to carry your burdens."

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