This whole concept just randomly came into my head on one of those spaced out moments. It's my first time writing a fic since...forever. I thought of a different approach for a story, something that's far off from the events of TES 5. So the story is basically set in the future, after the events of the game, including consequences from the dragonborn's past decisions. I still dont know where'd i go from here, but i have a few ideas. I hope you guys would enjoy it. Also apologies for any grammatical errors and misspellings, if there are any.
A man stalks into the dark foggy woods, vanishing into the shadows as he watches his prey. He nimbly climbed up on a tree to get a perfect view. He double checks the target; Nord, female late teens to early twenties, dark blonde hair of medium length, tannish skin with a fresh scar across her upper lip, a perfect match from the description he had been noted. The woman was lying on a bedroll, holding a book slightly above her face as she reads comfortably. He was so close that he could feel the warmth of the nearby campfire.
The woman flinched, sensing a predator lurking among the shadows. She held a deep breath, perking up from her bedroll.
"Crap." He muttered, despite being concealed from her sight, the woman was alerted by his presence. The man guile-fully hopped into one tree to another, with an impressive combination of both skill and muffle, away from her peripheral sense.
"Who's there?"
Immediately, she gripped on her blade that was sticking on the ground, watchful of the unwelcomed predator. She pulled her blade readying a stance, as she follows the scent of a man, "Come out from wherever you're hiding."
Without taking any chances, he conjured an illusion spell, putting the woman into deep slumber. He gently carried her from the ground she fell, and as he put out and opened a scroll from his pack, a portal emerged into thin air. He walked inside, together with his captive, and vanished as the portal dissolves into the darkness..
Marcel wakes up in cold sweats, panting heavily as she rose up from the bed. Another nightmare,she thought. Her dreams had gotten worse every passing day. Bewildered, she looked around and noticed the sudden change of environment. From the gloomy forests of falkreath, to a fancy high ceilinged room somewhere. Cobwebs housed on every corner and on nordic style carvings on the posts and walls. She felt the soft silky bedsheets brushing to her legs, as she slowly gets up from the bed. The scent of lavander perfme, together with stale wood and copper harmoniously filled her nostrils. She observes the expensive vases, books, and utensils all had been housed by dusts and cobwebs, as she goes for the door and was greeted by an empty hallway. She couldnt sense any presence in the rooms until she reached a wooden double door. She once again captured the scent of her predator, and another scent strangely familiar to her. She heard voices on the other side, leaning closer to listen.
"...so you're saying you just, ran into her along the way." A familiar voice of a woman, deep and experienced, said in suspicion.
" I know right? I never thought I'd run into her myself in the woods, alone, serene until she got her wolf senses on me." A man cheekily replies to her.
" How certain are you? You are not familiar with her, and a rough description is not acurate enough to pinpoint her." The woman continues to doubt him.
"I'm not dumb, Iri. I know what the dragonborn looks like from paintings and a 20 foot statue overlooking the whole city. Plus there aint a lot of blonde haired nord women who has a revealing scar across her lip all over pre-thalmor skyrim, well, not that I know of."
"You didnt search thoroughly every hold, like we've told you."
The man paused and guiltily retaliates her question. " Look, I'm good at my job and I am absolutely a hundred percent sure that she's who we've been looking for. And if you doubt my skills then it was foolish to send me on such a delicate task in the first place. And besides,"The man resumes to his playful tone ." have i ever failed you?" w/c caused the woman to sigh in frustration, giving up the argument and probably regretting her decision on assigning him such a crucial task.
"Enough. This argument will lead us nowhere." Another voice of a man, mature and militaristic, has been listening to the two bickering the whole time. " We cannot make room for mistakes Alvis. Are you even aware that the last hope of Tamriel is at your hands?"
"Yes, quite comforting in fact." He replies nervously
"And very reassuring." A hint of sarcasm was present in the woman's voice
"You understand how crucial this is. We are facing a threat that will be an imminent doom to us all. And unless you brought the right person before us, only she has the power to stop this chaos once and for all." The older man's harsh voice calmed down.
"I know. That's why i did the task at hand, no? As any gambling man would say, i have this feeling in my gut. Like some sort of, visceral compass, veered me to her direction"
"Are you even serious?" Marcel can visualize the woman shooking her head in disappointment.
I dont understand, she thought How in bloody oblivion did they know about me?
"Call me if she awakens." Marcel heard a clanking of armor, as the older man prepares to leave the room.
"And how do you plan on explaining this when she does? She's not going to be happy that I-I mean we, kidnapped her."
"We calmly tell her everything, right Aegmir?" statement that seemed to be directed to the man in full armor.
Alvis turned to the woman. "Like we're discussing the weather over tea and pastries? Hi, you're the dragonborn right? We held you captive because we need your help in stopping dragons from killing us, and cultists that would also want to kill us. Oh, and we snatched you away from your time and brought you 50 years into the future because apparently, things got a million times worst after certain events that lead us to another war and no matter how much we would like you to understand there are some things that are just off limits to your knowing. Hope you understand."
Wait, What? Marcel froze in disbelief and shock from what she just heard. 50 years? Dragons and cultists? What in the-. She couldn't help but panic at the thought of this. Her first instinct was to burst in and confront her captors. She searched the room for something that will help her.
"This is serious. We have to choose our words carefully if we want her stay on our good side. And you know what happens if we don't." The woman, a dark elf wearing an improvised leather armor, her hair dark red and in shoulder length styled into a half moon. She leans on one of the parallel pillars her arms crossed to her chest. Between them is a strategy table with parchments bedraggled, and a map of what looked like to be Skyrim and Cyrodiil, scribled with lines and flags on the surface. She looks at Alvis, a 30ish something Nord, with golden hair cleanly combed over. He has strong features, his jaw medium to narrow and light stubble covering the whole part of his lower face.
"It's not like she's gonna instantly turn into a werewolf when she gets upset or something, does she?"
Both the elf and the middle aged man clad in heavy armor, amusedly looked at the dumbfounded nord..
"She is right, if we want her to talk, we should take it easy. I don't want to turn this into bloodshed." The older man is of middle age, heavily showing his features through years of experience. He has a huge scar on his left cheek to his temple, a nose that is slightly broken and his hair grey, cleanly tied into a pony tail. His face is covered by a large mass of hair from his upper lip to his neck, cestunt in colur with greyish highlights. Just as he was about to grab his shield from the armor rack, the double doors burst open. To everyone's bemusement, the dragonborn, standing before them in a hostile stance, strapped in guard armor and a greatsword steadily pointing at their direction, as if she's ready to hack someone who in close radius.
The three watched , in shock and in slight amusement by the image before them.
"You people got exactly 10 seconds to explain what in bloody oblivion is going on." The three just stared at her while the mage, hand hidden behind his back, carefully readied an illusion spell to calm the woman down.
"Don't even think about it pal." Marcel glares at his hidden hand as she points her weapon closer to him ,
He raises his hand in submission "Alrigh, airtight, just, calm down. We're not going to hurt you."
She glares at the three, her eyes caught a familiar face among them.
"It's you…" The ellf looks at her closely. "By the gods its really you."
"See, I told you I got the right person." Alvis whispered to her.
Marcel observes her. She has met this woman before.. "Irileth?"
"I am glad you still remembered. It took you 2 years to come back to dragonsreach before our very first meeting."
Marcel still holds her stance, keeping her guard up. She was somewhat glad to see someone familiar in this place. "Yeah well…I was busy"
" Soooo, this is a nice happy reunion." Alvis turns to the dragonborn. "see, Iri here so glad to see you you know, after so many years. What's this? She's shedding tears of joy, oh how touching." The man spreads his arm over the elf's shoulder.
She glared at Alvis, the man slowly backing away.
"This means were good now, yes?" facing their captor, the mage slightly squealed when the tip of her weapon almost touched his neck.
"I don't think so, I'm not gonna drop this until you tell me what the fuck is going on!" A heavy clank of steel with steel echoed the room as the older man counters her weapon with his, putting it away from Alvis.
"Then put that away before you get hurt." The two glared at each other, neither one of them backing down.
"You should put that away before you get hurt." The woman's appearance slightly distorts into a creature, releasing a vicious growl under her breath.
He stares coldy at her for a while, until he calmly backs down.
It was good call, she could smell the richness of silver on the man's sword that sent her shivers , a tiny slash on her skin would be excruciating.
"Right, so tell me. What the fuck is going on? How did you people know about me?" although drawn away from the three, she anxiously held a firm grip on her weapon.
"We, uh, we need your help in killing dragons, permanently." Alvis drew her attention away from the older man. "And we couldn't find anyone to do so, so we traveled back in time and brought you here.."
"I don't believe this." She resumes her hostility towards the mage, her deadly silver eyes pierced at his.
Alvis slightly twitches at the woman's viciousness, tucking his lips to silence himself.
"We bought you here because because you were murdered 30 years ago.."
Marcel stared at the tall armor clad soldier, his face stoic and uncaring
" Aegmir, I don't think that's…" Irileth stopped as the man raised his hand in silence.
"Your death teared an opportunity for destruction, without a dragonborn present, dragons have returned to Tamriel for revenge." This revelation raised more questions than answers. Marcel was more confused than ever, despite this she tries to calm herself before her untamed anger does something unpleasant,one of the most dangerous, but at most times, useful effects of lycanthrophy.
"Ok.. so why did they want revenge?" She asked him as calmly as she could.
"Because you defeated the world eater. And some of his loyal followers wer'ent so happy about it. That includes both dragons and people. Apparently murderer cults became a thing during the last few decades." Alvis turns to Marcel.
"Why me? And not somebody else?" she growls.
"Ah, that's good question. See, it's not that easy. The elder scroll can only take us too far from time." Alvis said " and it would be terrible gamble to attempt to go farther. So you're our best bet."
"But I don't even know how this whole dragon killing thing works and it almost got me killed the first time!" she said hysterically.
Aegmir turned to the puzzled mage, " Exactly, what year did you travel back?"
"I, might have gotten a little farther than inteded." He held a nervous smile as the unamused man glared at him.
"But, that may not be a problem." He assures him, "we could train her, get her to familiarize with her skills."
"And where would we find her a master? The greybeards had long since left Skyrim." Irileth stood up, one hand leaning on the strategy table.
"Can't the Blades train her? They know a great deal about dragons and such, right?" Said Alvis.
"The Blades can only teach a little. It wont be enough." Aegmir sighed in disappointment. "Take her back."
"What?" the mage confused by his superior's request. "I cant do that,"
"We've wasted enough time with this. Find me someone who's much more capable in dealing with this threat." He walks away from the committee and almost halfway down the wooden strairs.
"Wait wait wait, after all the shit you've led me into, you're just gonna give it up like that?" Marcel was annoyed and somewhat, offended by the man's disposition towards her. So I'm incapable? Her pride bitterly boiled inside her.
"I cant just conjure up another portal as simple as that Aegmir." Alvis walked closer to him as the older nord stops halfway."Time travel can only be done not more than once . What were doing here has a high potential of distorting the flow of space and time and will lead to grave consequences. I say give her a chance with this. It's our only option"
"Do'nt I have a say in this?" Marcel, interrupts " You cant decide for me."
"I know, I'm sorry." The mage turns to her "But we're desperate. And we need you or else we'll all perish. "
The room was silent until a screeching roar is heard from a distance. As the sound gets closer a ball of flame exploded, hitting the walls of dragonsreach and making a huge impact that staggered the four.
"What was that!?" Marcel steadies heself wrapping her free arm around a pillar,
" A dragon is attacking the hold,." Alvis carries himself up, from the ground he was kneeling. "for the 5th time this month."
"Irileth, rally the archers." The elf nodded at Aegmir and a friendly smile to dragonborn, then hastened down the stairs. Aegmir opened a chest next to the weapons rack and handed Marcel a set of arrows and a bow.
"I believe you are an adept with these." He said. Marcel was in awe of the gorgeous ebony bow in her hands, feeling the smoothness of its texture and the notches of its carvings. She looked up at the soldier, giving him a slight nod and with no time to spare, she followed him to the battlements.
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