Audhelm doesn’t remember his life before the Companions.

Some of his new shield-siblings are deliberately choosing not to remember, or at least he hasn’t yet won them over enough for them to share. Audhelm can guess at pieces of Athis’ past, the distrust a Dunmer must face so far from home. And he has a pretty good idea of what debts Torvar must owe, from the times he’s awoken in the morning to find Torvar only just falling into bed across the way, trailing a strong scent of mead. 

For Audhelm, though, there are simply no clues he might let slip about his history. It is as if his mind had been smelted down completely, and the steel only reforged into its new shape when Aela and Njada Stone-arm found him. 

He’d awoken in the snow north of Whiterun, confused, naked, and afraid, and the last all the more desperately so when a pack of wolves set on him out of nowhere. He’d thrown out an alteration spell purely by reflex and laid down a thick trail of spikes, which had slowed the pursuing pack enough that Aela and Njada had been able to pick them off one at a time. 

Afterwards, they’d looked him over–Aela had politely kept her eyes on his face–and decided that, despite the unusual braids in his beard, he might as well be a kinsman, since he wasn’t obviously mer, beast, or Redguard. His lack of clothing had, inexplicably, been a factor in that conclusion.

He hadn’t remembered his name. Still doesn’t. Njada had come up with Audhelm as an ironic joke, since he lacked both. She’d thought it was funny, although she had to explain that “aud” was an old word for “wealth”; Aela had just frowned at her until he told them it was fine. 

And then they’d fed and clothed him, and brought him home to Jorrvaskr. 

Audhelm is grateful, of course. From everything he’s heard in the Hall and around Whiterun, he could easily have died a hundred times over, wandering the wilderness armed with barely remembered scraps of spells (not to mention the lack of clothing). He doesn’t mind paying his dues to the Companions, either, so long as it isn’t roughing up random citizens or finding some noble’s lost ring. Collecting pelts and rescuing people suits him just fine. 

It’s only…

He would honestly much rather spend his days picking mushrooms. 

Audhelm isn’t much of an alchemist, that’s for sure. Putting random flower petals or leaves in his mouth, determining the right proportions to mix and for how long–none of it appeals to him, although he knows enough not to poison himself. (He probably isn’t much of a baker, either, though Tilma wouldn’t let him near her oven to try anyway.) He just knows mushrooms: the safest kinds to eat, where to find them in shade and soil. It’s probably what he was doing before Aela and Njada found him. 

And it’s what he’s doing when he stumbles across Taliesin. 

via tumblr https://ift.tt/LeXkAcJ published on March 30, 2024 at 09:45AM