AN: Hello all! This is a classic gamer's dream-come-true sitch, featuring some of your favourite characters and a lot more OCs. I'll be doing a chapter a day for the time being, but if you have any suggestions or questions, PMs and reviews are more than welcome :)
Anyways, enjoy x
The sun rose bright and early on the last day of the week, its golden beams streaming into the bedroom and catching specks of dust as they swirled in the air. Inches away from these amber intrusions lay a girl, on a bed in the centre of the room, wrapped in a cocoon of cotton bedsheets and blankets. She groaned as the light crept towards her, rolling over and covering her eyes with one arm lazily thrown over her face. The birds sung outside, bidding her welcome to the day and begging her out of bed. Try as she might to fall back into the lull of the dream world, her eyelids could not block out the growing sunlight
"Becky!"
A voice called from beneath her, down a flight of stairs, and the girl gave an exasperated sigh. But this time she sat up, reluctantly bidding her dreams goodbye and scratching her head. She blinked one green eye
"Yeah, I'm up." she answered, quiet enough that her inquisitor continued to yell.
"Becky, dear, are you awake?"
"Yes, Mum!" she called back, louder, rubbing her face and swinging her legs over the side of her bed. She heard the patter of feet up her stairway and anticipated the knock on her door with another groan.
"Can I come in?" Rebecca's mother eased the door open, beaming at her daughter. Unfortunately, Rebecca was in no state to beam back, and simply glared at her mother, her eyes narrowed against the light. Rebecca gestured dismissively in answer, as if to say 'Why not?'.
"I'm going out to walk the dog, but I'll be back soon." she told her daughter, perching on the end of the bed and tucking a strand of auburn hair behind Rebecca's ear. She grimaced and batted her
"Fine." she reached towards a bottle of water on her bedside. Her mother smiled down at her daughter as the morning sun lit up her hair and made her glow in the sunlight.
"Oh, it's so lovely to have you back from uni for the holidays!" Without warning, her mother lunged at Rebecca and wrapped her in a tight embrace. Her daughter spluttered through her water, the older woman's arms pressing down on her throat just as she had swallowed.
"Mum, you're on my windpipe!" she spluttered. "Oops!" her mother giggled, standing again and wiping a drop of water from her daughter's chin.
"Have some breakfast if you're peckish. And don't go on that blasted machine while I'm out!" she called over her shoulder as she descended. Rebecca lay back on her bed, listening to the dog barking and then the sound of the door slamming from far below. As soon as she heard the key turn in the lock, Rebecca threw back the covers, threw on some trackies and a hoodie, and raced down the stairs to her brother's room, where the Xbox lay dormant in his bedroom.
She grinned at the familiar startup 'ding' of the console as she turned on her personalised controller, Master Chief's face looming above the joysticks. But it was not any game from the Halo series that she selected in the home screen as her Kinect bid her welcome. No – after studying hard at school for a term without a console in sight, there was but one story that Rebecca wished to relive for her first weekend back home. She felt a shiver as smoky tendrils crept around the borders of the black screen in front of her, and a distant chant called out from within the TV. She jumped onto the end of her brother's bed, tipping her head back to revel for a moment as the chant grew louder and louder, until it evolved into the iconic Dovahkiin song. She sang along quietly under her breath, scrolling through her previous saves and checking out where she wanted to go, and how to get there. Not wishing to launch straight back into a level 60 character, with ebony armour and a disappointing Alduin to face, she chose to start a new game – mods off. Something that she hadn't attempted in a long time.
The singing stopped abruptly, and was replaced by a loading screen. Her love for the game ran so deeply that even the appearance of the studio title made her want to squeal with excitement. But just as the clip-clopping of the opening audio sounded, the screen froze, and minimized until it was barely the size of a matchbox.
"Oh- what!" Rebecca protested, standing up and leaning closer to the television. Squinting to get a better look at the box, she realized that the graphics and audio were in fact still working, just on a much smaller scale. She reached to tap the screen, but instead found it getting larger. Relieved that the game was working again, Rebecca moved to sit back down on the bed. But her hands grabbed at empty air, and she let out a scream as she realised that the image was not growing, but rushing up towards her, wind flying through her hair as a small, wooden cart came closer and closer until-
BAM!
With a start, Rebecca looked up, brushing the hair from her face and gasping in shock to find that she was no longer in her brother's bedroom, but in a wagon, bumping along a cobblestone road in a pine forest. It was jarring to find the sounds of woodland animals and the scents of flowers carried by the warm breeze so terrifying, but despite the therapeutic setting, every fibre of her being was screaming internally. She looked down to see not her trackies and hoodie, but a rough spun tunic, yellow in colour and scratching against her chest.
"Hey, you're finally awake."
Her head snapped up in fear. But although the man that voice belonged to heralded no imminent danger, Rebecca flinched as she took in the soldier sitting in front of her for the first /"No," she whispered in disbelief, her eyes threatening to pop out of their sockets. Across the cart from her, sat none other than Ralof of Riverwood, the first character in Skyrim. Her jaw practically fell to the floor as she took him in. Although his features were softer, and less defined than in the game, there was no mistaking his identity; shaggy blonde hair hanging by his shoulders, and a Stormcloak cuirass that clinked with every shake of the carriage. It was unquestionably Ralof; despite the twist that reality had taken on his appearance.
"You were trying to cross the border, right?" he asked. Rebecca stared stupidly, unable to form any coherent response. "Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us." he added, his voice thick with that familiar yet strange Nordic accent that she had never heard outside of her TV. Rebecca decided that she must be dreaming, and slapped herself. Hard.
"Hey, what're you doing?" She looked up, a frown knitted across her forehead as Ralof turned to her and reached to grab her wrist. Their hands touched, his fingers rough and calloused against her palm – skin that had never seen a real day of labour, unlike his. So, he was corporeal then. This was no hallucination. Her own hand had certainly felt real enough against her skin. But what shocked her most about their interaction was not the discovery of Ralof having a physical form, but his words. She was sure that wasn't a scripted line…he had strayed from the dialogue. But for what?
As she sat in awe of him, the Nord turned his attention away from her, and continued to talk. That's when Rebecca noticed the elf sitting beside her. She was wearing the same tunic, her hands bound just as Ralof's were, and as silent as Rebecca without the expression of utter bewilderment. It occurred to Rebecca for the first time that the man had not been speaking to her, but to this gold-skinned Altmer. Rebecca reached to rub her own tired eyes in disbelief as she took in the other two occupants of the carriage, the horse thief and Ulfric Stormcloak himself, bound and gagged in his heavy fur-lined armour. A wave of nausea hit her suddenly, and it wasn't just because of the lurching of the carriage. If she remembered correctly, that horse thief would be shot dead in a matter of minutes. And if this journey bore any resemblance to the game, then Alduin, World-Eater, would be swooping down to lay destruction and death at the doorstep of Helgen upon their arrival.
Panic took over, and, thinking fast, Rebecca turned on the bench and gripped the side of the carriage, swinging herself over it. As she jumped, time seemed to slow, her head turning to watch the Altmer woman as she leaped. There was something about those piercing green eyes, that scar on her cheek…she seemed hauntingly familiar.
"Hey!" Ralof had stood up in the carriage and was glaring at her. Time sped back up, her bare feet hit the freezing ground and she heard the carriage driver turn in his seat. Rebecca didn't wait to see if he had spotted her. She whipped off into the woods, pine needles pricking at her feet as she sprinted, faster than she ever had in her life, going where, she wasn't sure. She sped up in spite of her screaming muscles as a chorus of angry shouts rose up from the break in the trees. She kept running in what she hoped was the direction of Riverwood, but, having never explored Helgen other than in ruins, she had no idea what the surrounding area looked like, or which side of the town she was on.
The yelling subsided behind her as she put more distance between herself and the Imperial soldiers, relief coursing through her as the sounds faded into the distance. But now her mouth tasted of blood, and the pines looked identical as she dipped and climbed the forest in search of any kind of landmark. Perhaps she was near the border? If this was anything like the game, then she wouldn't be able to cross it – what's more, it would likely be manned by more soldiers. And, Rebecca had to admit, a girl with bound hands, wearing nothing but rags would not be assumed innocent, much less pointed in the direction of the nearest town.
A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she stopped to kneel at a stream running along beside her. Looking down into the clear, mountain water, Rebecca squinted at her own reflection, fearful that she would find someone else staring back at her. But, to her relief, the girl in the water had the same curly auburn hair, the same green eyes, currently filled with fear, and the same full face dotted with freckles. Yet although it was certainly a comfort to look herself, she wondered what implications this could have for…whatever this nightmare was turning out to be.
Hearing a twig snap somewhere behind her, Rebecca froze, her eyes widening. She stood up slowly, bending from her aching knees, but it was too late. Before she could even turn in a 45 degree cone, she found a long, glinting silver knife at her throat. The metal was cold against her skin, and pressed so hard that she could feel her own pulse against the blade.
"Do not move." her attacker growled. Rebecca, swallowing, raised her arms above her head and dared to glance down at the hands that held her captive. To her surprise, they were furry, and had long, dark claws where the fingernails should have been. Rebecca felt her stomach drop as she realised that her assailant was not simply a bandit, but a Khajiit, capable of slashing her throat with or without this dagger in his hands. He had also snuck up on her without her notice, which meant he was skilled. She closed her eyes and hoped to high hell he took pity on her.
"Listen, I don't have any valuables, I'm just-"
"Sh!" the Khajiit silenced her with a hiss. He seemed to be listening out for the last of the Imperial soldiers, frogmarching her behind a tree as the voices grew ever fainter. Despite her fear, Rebecca found that part of her was just as anxious to face a Khajiit in real life as she was to be found by the soldiers. The feline race had always looked so artificial in the game, she could only wonder at their real life rendition. When the forest was once again silent but for the wind whistling through the pine trees, he removed the blade from her neck. Rebecca fell in a fit of coughing as air suddenly rushed back into her lungs, hands on her knees as the Khajiit stepped around in front of her.
Upon finally clearing her throat and looking up, the first word that came to mind was magnificent. The feline creature that stood before Rebecca in the woods that day was certainly nothing less. At his full height he was at least a head taller than her, and that was without the long, dark ears that swivelled at every rustle or snap in the branches around them. His fur was a very dark grey, mottled with white patches and black stripes, and he had a slash of scars across the bridge of his pink nose. This Khajiit wore light armour, of a dark, black leather, and had a thin, sleek elven sword at his side, but it was his eyes that captivated her the most. Those amber orbs, bright as lamps in the canopy of the woods, were set like jewels against the dark frame of his face. He seemed to be watching her, trying to assess whether she posed a threat, and Rebecca found herself able to do little else than let him, the memory of his glinting dagger still fresh in her mind.
"You are a prisoner?" he asked. Rebecca nodded slowly, fearful of making any sudden moves in case he changed his mind and slashed her throat for good measure.
"But not a valuable one," she quickly explained. "My name isn't even on their list." she added, remembering the familiar course of events at Helgen from the game.
The Khajiit's mouth twitched in a curious sort of smile. "And what is this one's name, hm?"
"Rebecca," she answered. In the distance, the spine-chilling screech of a dragon split the summer air, bouncing between the trees towards them. The Khajiit whipped around, the hair on the back of his neck raising. "But we'd better get out of here, fast." she added. The cat nodded, his hard amber eyes betraying no sign of fear.
Without a moment to pause, he raced off into the undergrowth, barely giving Rebecca time to breath before haring after him, her lungs heaving. Another roar echoed across the land, making Rebecca shudder as she ran, barely keeping up with the cat as he weaved between trees, turning abruptly as he followed an invisible path. The dragons sounded significantly more terrifying in reality, and if this was what they sounded like from afar…she could only imagine meeting one face to face. After what seemed like a millennium, Rebecca's guide stopped at the edge of the tree line, stepping out onto the poorly paved road once again. Warm sunlight washed across her face, reminding her of the morning light that had cut through the dark and dust of her bedroom only minutes earlier.
She had to shield her eyes just to get a good look at the land as it fell and rose again in front of them, and, with a gasp, she realised that they were standing on the path to Riverwood. Beneath them was the rushing river itself, glimmering in the daylight as salmon leaped up and out of the current, twirling in the air. She no longer had to imagine its icy cold waters lapping at the rocky banks and rushing down the waterfalls up ahead; it was all here in front of her. Across the valley was Bleak Falls Barrow, in all its stony glory, its giant arches rising like ominous gates against the snow of the mountain. For the first time, Rebecca took a moment to breath in the beauty of Skyrim in all its reality. And an irresistible urge to slap herself arose once more.
Both Khajiit and woman flinched at a third, and more terrifying scream from the dragon. They ducked instinctively beside a large boulder on the side of the road as its terrible figure appeared over head, leaving them in shadow on the road. Its black wings were unfurled and beating against the sky furiously, its jaw agape as though ready to lay waste to all it saw at any given moment. Every inch of its scaly body was covered in spikes and horns, and even from well below, Rebecca could see that its claws were the size of a full grown man. When it had vanished behind the mountain and into the clouds, the Khajiit leaped gracefully up onto the boulder, balancing on the balls of his feet to try and get another look.
"What in Oblivion…?" he murmured, watching the skies with those guarded golden orbs.
"Alduin, the World-Eater," Rebecca told him, her voice hoarse. The Khajiit tilted his head to one side. "A dragon." she elaborated.
"It came from Helgen, yes? This is where you were?" he asked, his eyes narrowed into slits. Rebecca swallowed nervously, deciding not to get into the details of her brush with execution. Or of how she accidentally tumbled into a fictional world and was now very non-fictionally homeless, friendless, and…hungry. "Yes."
He took out an apple and began to peel it with the same dagger that was moments ago pressed against her skin. Rebecca couldn't help but stare, realising that she hadn't eaten yet that day and had since done a great deal of running for her life. The Khajiit looked at her with that curious smile once again, and patted the space next to him gently, motioning for her to join him. Rebecca raised her eyebrows, trying to sense a trap. But she knew that she was in no position to question his motives, and scrabbled up the rock to join him.
"This ones name is T'ariq." he told her, shaking his long dark mane in the breeze. "And he is very interested-"
T'ariq lowered his blade, twirling it between his fingertips and causing Rebecca to inhale sharply as he sliced the twine binding her hands in one swift motion..
"-in who you are, and how you came to be here." he ended. Rebecca breathed out a sigh that she didn't know she had been holding in, and shook out her wrists, enjoying the mobility in her hands once more. When she looked up again she found T'ariq holding out a piece of apple in his clawed paws. Rebecca looked at him warily, but found only kindness in his deep orange eyes. She thanked him, and took the fruit.
Rebecca chose her words carefully. "I was imprisoned by the Imperials – wrongly." She bit down on the crisp, green fruit after she spoke, making it clear that this was all she intended to share. Besides, this cat had been tempted to kill her just minutes ago – now was hardly the time to confess that she was from another world.
T'ariq purred in amusement.
"This one does not care whether you are a criminal or you are not," he mrrowed. "T'ariq is merely curious."
But as Rebecca looked at him a little longer, watching him peel another apple in his soft palms, she was the one who grew curious. Strangely enough, she didn't remember T'ariq from any town or quest in Skyrim, which was odd in itself, since she had completed enough playthroughs to have met all the characters in the game. She was also still unsure as to whether she should trust him or not. But, considering that she had no other options, and he was willing to share some food, it seemed she had no choice.
"To where are you next headed?" he asked, running his claws up and down one furry arm lazily. Rebecca shrugged, still savouring every bite of her apple for fear that she would be offered no more.
"I don't know." she admitted. She remembered that traditionally, her next stop should be Riverwood and then Whiterun, to warn the hold about the dragon in Helgen. But this was clearly no longer just a video game – maybe it didn't run the same way?
"Where is your kin?" T'ariq asked. Rebecca shrugged again, this time with a heavy sigh.
"They're not here." her voice cracked as she spoke. Suddenly the weight of her situation had come crashing down on top of her, and the girl found her eyes burning as she swallowed a lump in her throat. How was she supposed to get out? How could she get back home? She had barely been in this crazy dream for half an hour and already she had been captured, chased and attacked by strange men all with very big weapons. In the game, it was much simpler. In the game, she pressed a button and found her character standing in steel plate armour and cutting down bad guys left and right. But Rebecca wasn't like that. Rebecca was a student, she had never worn armour in her life, much less wielded a sword! The threat of death in this world and its unknown consequences for hers landed heavily on her back as it occurred to her just how vulnerable she was.
Rebecca felt a furry paw placed on her shoulder, and looked up to see T'ariq's eyes shining with surprising kindness.
"Do not worry little one," he purred. "This one will take you to the nearest town, he can get you clothes and a bed for the night."
Rebecca searched his eyes for any hint of deception, but she found none, and managed to smile at him. "Thank you." she sniffed. Rebecca then wiped her nose angrily on the sleeve of her tunic, feeling silly for crying in front of what she assumed to be a highly trained warrior.
"Actually," she added, a thought rising to mind. "I need to go to Whiterun. To warn the Jarl about the dragon attack…would you happen to be going that way?"
T'ariq tipped his head to the side again, considering it. His tail twitched as he began to nod slowly. "It can be so. But we will not make it to Whiterun before the night. It is best to stay in Riverwood for today." he concluded. Rebecca nodded in agreement. "Of course." she smiled, feeling a little more relieved at having concrete plans and a guide, despite knowing the whole province herself like the back of her hand. Although, assuming that she hadn't yet gone completely insane, Rebecca was fully expecting to awake back in her brother's bedroom as soon as her head hit the pillow in the Sleeping Giant Inn.
"Where are you journeying to?" she asked politely, dipping her head in thanks as T'ariq handed her another slice of apple.
"It is not yet clear," He swung his broad muzzle from side to side as he spoke. "T'ariq seeks a noble quest that will bring him honour and glory. But, for now, there is honour enough in helping a lost kit." he purred. Rebecca smiled at him gratefully. She definitely didn't remember a khajiit as kind as this from the game.
"Come." he slid off the rock and landed with poise on the path. He lent her a paw to help her down before tossing his apple peel into the bushes. "We had better make for Riverwood before the sun dips beneath the mountains."
