Although it did happen a few times, Rae rarely got caught. Unfortunately for the Bosmer, this would be one of those rare moments. After arriving in Skryim from Cryodiil, Rae came across a group of soldiers dressed in blue. They walked slowly like a caravan and the elf saw it as the perfect opportunity to relieve them of some of the more pricey items they may be carrying.
Rae had her hand in the bag of a towheaded soldier when her wrist was seized and a shield came crashing down on her head. Before she let the darkness consume her, she heard yells and fighting. Someone screamed something about... Imperials?
It wasn't until she felt a jolt, that her senses came back. She rode in the back of a carriage and by the nine her neck hurt. "Finally up, elf?" Rae looked up and met the eyes of the blonde soldier, the one she had attempted to steal from. She flushed with embarrassment upon remembering their previous encounter. "You must have just crossed the border. Thought you'd get some coin of me eh?" Rae shook her head roughly and noticed the man sitting next to her. He certainly was not dressed like a soldier but somehow managed to look like one even dressed as a nobleman.
"What's wrong with him?" another man, one with brown hair, asked.
"Watch your tone, you're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak. True high king of Skryim." True high king? I've never heard of this Ulfric, Rae thought silently. The man, now known as Ulfric was looking at her. She couldn't tell if it was out of curiosity or disdain. Most likely the latter.
"Where the hell are we going if they're brining him along?" The brown haired man asked quickly. He looked terrified. Rae had guessed they'd be meeting the headman's ax and she must have been right because the towheaded man said the same.
"Elf," Rae turned back to her almost-victim, "what's your name? You a Thalmor? Why can't I tell if you're a high elf or a wood elf?"
Rae raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes. "My name is Rae, I'm not nor have I ever been a Thalmor. And you can't tell because I'm both. My mother was an Altmer and my father, a Bosmer."
"What do you call herself then? A mutt?" He laughed but it wasn't menacing or rude. Rae couldn't help but share a smile, he reminded her of a group of Nords she once called her family. Even Ulfric seemed to lighten.
"No, I call myself a Bosmer. I do not wish to be affiliated with the Altmers." Ulfric almost choked and then coughed into his gag. Rae looked sideways at him, offended. He turned away as they entered city gates.
"Well Rae, as we have reached the end of the line, I forgive you for trying to steal from me," he smiled, "I'm Ralof." Rae returned the smile but frowned when the carriage stopped.
"Step up as we call your name!" A woman yelled. She was loud and obnoxious. Dressed as someone important. Every person had stepped up. The brown haired man Rae had rode with, had tried to escape. He was shot while he ran, three arrows to the back of his neck had killed him. A man with a book raised his head and looked at Rae.
"She's not on the list, what should we do?" The woman eyed Rae and shook her head.
"Forget the list, she goes to the block." Rae stepped up and told the man her name and race. With a sympathetic look, he led her to where the rest of the crowd awaited their execution.
It had been several months since Helgen. Rae sat lazily by the fire in the house she was given after becoming the thane of Whiterun. Her housecarl, Lydia sat across from her and every once and a while would try to make small talk. Rae always waved her off and tried to ignore her constant staring.
Rae wasn't short for a Bosmer, but she was never considered tall for one either. However, in skyrim she felt like a child next to all the Nords who seemed to tower over her. Her skin was a shade of gold that had been passed to her by her mother and her hair as ebony colored as her father's was. It hung just at her shoulders and was just slightly wavy. Her armour, bearing the sign of the nightingale, matched her hair in colour and elegance. It was most certainly her favourite armour and she was proud to wear what Nocturnal had given her. Rae kept the hood and face mask up when she went out, but now, sitting at home, it pooled around her shoulders and the chair she sat on. Her eyes, an almost unnatural shade of light grey watched the fire crackle and dance with delight.
"My thane," Lydia pulled Rae out of her reverie, "you have been home for quite sometime. Is there an issue I can help you with?" Rae almost laughed.
"No, I am just unsure of what I should be doing now. I'm guildmaster to a guild that truly doesn't need my guidance now and I'm at a loss. I know the brotherhood is trying to recruit me, and the companions have asked me to join as well, but none of that seems intriguing to me. I don't want to deal with Delphine, not after forcing me to face the Thalmor again at their own party. And the Greybeards have nothing for me besides wanting me to meditate on freaking words. What is there for me besides all of that Lydia?" Lydia's eyes softened and her voice became soothing.
"I understand, my thane. Have you considered the war? I know you hate the Thalmor and their alliance with the Empire. You also worship Talos along with the eight. Why don't you head to Windhelm and join the Stormcloaks?" That could work, Rae thought. She looked happy again until her mind suddenly reminded her of that fateful day in Helgen when she first met the leader of the rebellion. He had looked at her like she was the enemy and she never knew why until her friends in the guild told her how Ulfric was a racist, Mer-hater. Damn him to oblivion and his pretty fucking face. Even as she steamed, Rae couldn't help but recognize his cause as a noble one. No matter who you are, you should be able to worship whichever god you prefer. Yes, she thought, I'll join the godsdamn war.