(A.N. Apologies for those who're waiting for updates on She Wolf, I kinda hit a wall and have been reluctant to continue it.
I will though, so don't worry too much, just have to get the feeling for it back.
This Story Is Centered Around the Skyrim Romance Mod by Mara Lightfeather. ~C.)
Ch 1. Helgen
Of all the ways Eroeh could've died in her short lifetime, she'd never imagined that being beheaded for treason would be the way she'd go. Wincing at the rope burns that'd developed around her wrists, the tired half-elf cast a discreet healing spell to ease the pain. Noticing her discomfort, one of her companions in the cart, a blonde Nord by the name of Ralof, leaned into her to help conceal her faintly glowing hands. "I'm sorry this has happened to you, Eroeh. Had I known the Imperials were on our tail, I would never have invited you to share our camp. You, least of all deserve this." He apologized, his voice gentle and heavy with accent as he placed a similarly bound hand over hers. She grimaced, thinking of just how wrong he was in his sentiment.
They'd known each other for almost a decade now via her cousin Faendal. He worked for Ralof's sister, Gerdur, at the Riverwood Mill. She'd always seen the friendly Nord when she'd pass through and had developed a rapport with him and the rest of the town over the course of her travels. Ralof was practically kin. She'd known for a while that he'd been supportive of Jarl Ulfric's ideals in the current civil war, but she hadn't known he'd gone so far as becoming a Stormcloak soldier.
They'd come across one another by chance the night before near Darkwater Crossing, just as Eroeh was making her way up towards Winterhold from the Rift's forests. She'd been down south in Valenwood visiting her younger sister, Dahlia, for the last month, and had only just returned a week prior when the Legion swooped in. As it turned out, Ralof had been travelling with the Empire's currently most wanted, Ulfric Stormcloak himself. Eroeh sighed and leaned her head against Ralof's muscular shoulder as he questioned their other companion, a horse thief by the name of Lokir, who was unfortunately in the wrong place at the worst time and got caught. Pulling into the town, Eroeh made sure to note which cart carried her personal effects.
She'd hoped she might be able to convince the guards of her innocence if they were willing to listen. A bard by trade, she was typically successful in her endeavors so long as she could get people talking. Perhaps she could bat her long, dark eyelashes at just the right person and they could simply "lose track" of her. Gods knew if she could get ahold of her bow, she'd take out as many as she had to if it meant keeping herself alive. "Alright you little minx, what are you scheming over there?" Ralof whispered conspiratorially in her ear, having noticed the thoughtful expression on her face. "Just wishing my bow weren't so far away." She sighed, her voice gentle and resigned. "I've seen you shoot. They were smart to take it from you." He joked, his hearty laughter rumbling from deep within his chest. "Even though you're only a halfling, you're just as deadly as any true Bosmer with that thing." He chuckled, playfully nudging her shoulder with his. "Father would be proud to hear I haven't got rusty since his and mother's passing." She soberly replied. She'd lost both of her parents in one of the Dominion's many "Purges" that people weren't supposed to know about within Valenwood's populace. Luckily, she and her siblings were travelling when it happened, and so remained unharmed.
As they were called by name, the prisoners took their places around the chopping block. As the soldier holding the list, a gentle looking, familiar brunette with mismatched brown and blue eyes by the name of Hadvar, got to Eroeh, there was a bit of a discrepancy. "You there, elfling. State your name and business." He ordered, trying not to acknowledge that they knew one another. "Eroeh. Look, I'm just a simple bard returning from visiting family in Valenwood." She implored. Furrowing his brows at the list in his hands, he triple-checked the pages before turning to his superior- a female Imperial with a bad case of resting bitch face. "What do you want me to do. She isn't on the list." he asked, obviously wanting to just let his boyhood crush go. "Forget the list, she goes to the block." The woman responded cruelly. I swear to Hircine if I get out of this, I will carve that self-satisfied look off your face and eat it. Eroeh thought, her eyes narrowing and lips pursing tight. "I'm sorry dear, you really picked a bad time to come home." Hadvar apologized, his soft mismatched eyes sincere. Eroeh relaxed her expression in turn, knowing he was truly sorry.
After taking her place amongst the others, Eroeh was surprised to be called second to the block. As she walked what were to be her last steps, she held her head high and fought back tears. Laying her neck on the still sticky wood, a monstrous roar bellowed from above. "DRAGON!" the soldiers shouted as all hell broke loose. The great black beast let out a sharp, guttural noise like the sound of lightning crashing, followed by fire raining from the sky. As the crowd scattered for their lives, Eroeh tried to make a break for her bag, only to be cut short by a wall of hellfire blocking her path. Cursing the entire situation, she reluctantly sprinted across the courtyard towards Ralof. They made their way out of the keep and through the underground channels, determined to keep running 'til they saw daylight. Upon exiting the cave, the pair headed towards Riverwood, which fortunately was only an hour's hike away. Upon their arrival to the quiet little town, they filled in Ralof's sister and her husband about the dragon, then went their separate ways. Smelling herself, she eyed the blood-caked Stormcloak cuirass she'd acquired, and decided she badly needed a washing.
Eroeh stopped by the mill, calling out to her cousin to get his attention. "Faendal!" she shouted happily, trotting along the length of the mill platform. "Hey there kiddo, where've you been? And ugh- what have you been getting into? You reek." he chuckled, his face contorted in disgust. "A lot I'd rather not go into detail about right this second. You mind if I take a bath at your place and get changed? I don't mind if the water's cold." She asked, shaking some of the caked mud and blood flakes from her long hair. "Please do. For all our sakes." He quipped, fanning his face and going back to work. "Gladly. Thank You!" Eroeh chirped happily, planting an obnoxiously loud kiss on Faendal's cheek before darting out of the mill towards his home in the southernmost corner of town. Hopping in the cold tub of bathwater in his house, she took her sweet time scrubbing every bit of dirt, grime, and blood she could get to. Combing the muck from her hip length white-gold tresses, she was satisfied upon seeing her hair shine again. Getting out of the water, she dried herself and rubbed a palmful of lavender oil through her damp curls before combing her hair and braiding it; twisting the plait into a large, messy bun as she sat by the fireplace. Feeling much better, she changed from the towel to an old spare set leather ranging gear she'd stashed in a chest of his forever ago, lowering her cowl and hood to expose her face. Leaving a note for Faendal thanking him once more, she grabbed a spare bow and quiver from the wall, before gathering her things to leave.
Eroeh decided to stop by the Sleeping Giant Inn for a much-needed drink before taking off to Whiterun and was less than thrilled to be propositioned by two heavily intoxicated idiots loitering outside. Pretending they didn't exist, she walked up the steps only to be frozen in place by the amber eyed gaze of an unfamiliar man leaning by the door. "Jeez, stare much?" she grumbled sharply as she reached for the door, cheeks reddening, and eyes lowered. She wasn't sure what it was about him that unnerved her so, but that unbroken stare of his was burning right through her.
"So, I see you aren't the lip-wrestling type…got it." he noted sarcastically. "Or maybe you're just looking for someone to kiss you boots. If it's the latter, I suggest you try looking elsewhere." Confused, she raised her pale hazel green eyes to meet his. "I'm sorry, what?" she asked, releasing the door handle. "Those two idiots holding up the fence, you didn't hear them cat-calling you when you walked up? What, are you so used to those comments that you just turn your nose up at them like some kinda noble?" Feigning ignorance, she turned her head to look at said idiots. "Hadn't noticed them actually, I just got back." She commented awkwardly before turning back towards the man at the door. "Really? Were they not loud enough? Maybe I should give 'em some pointers since I'm the only one who seems to have landed a conversation." He chuckled. "They've been harassing every pair of legs that's crossed their path for the last few days. Yesterday they were so drunk they even wolf-whistled the blacksmith." Eroeh giggled at the thought of the pair cat-calling Alvor, the hulk of a Nord that ran the towns forge.
"You're the first they've been right to admire though. Anyways, I'd give em a wide berth if I were you." He finished with a sigh. Cocking her head in confusion, she responded, "Thanks I guess, but why bother telling me any of this?" She asked. He simply shrugged his shoulders, feigning indifference. "Maybe I'm just a nice guy. Anyways, I've got to get going and just wanted to foil the drunks one last time. Truth be told I was tracking my wolf Karnwyr through here- we got separated hunting a week ago. I heard about some bandits running a pit-fighting ring somewhere this side of Skyrim. He's all I've got, and that's my only lead. So, I'm on my way to shut them down before something happens to him." Remembering her own wolf Nimue, who'd been her everything when she'd left home to live in Skyrim, she locked eyes with the man. "I'll help you find your wolf!" She all-too eagerly offered. He laughed at her sudden outburst, sizing her up. "You know, enthusiasm like that could get a pretty girl like you in trouble. But…" he sighed, "I suppose if they're running a ring, it's gonna be more than a few bandits. If you wanna come, I wouldn't complain about my odds. I could certainly do worse for company." He finished skeptically. Shifting her weight to one side, she placed her hands on her hips and cocked an eyebrow at him. "It almost sounds like you're trying to offer a one-night stand for gods' sake. You could pick better wording, you know." She quipped, smirking at her new companion.
"Sounds like someone's hearing what she wants to hear; not that it can't be arranged. Anyways, let's be clear before we head out; I don't trust anyone or anything but myself and my wolf. Karnwyr is not a pet, so don't go trying to get him to lick your hand or anything. That wolf has been with me since I was seventeen, and is closer to me than a brother, you got that?" he stated harshly, amber eyes cut at her as his stare bore into her again. Eroeh changed her stance, her face now matching his. "Make no mistake, I had one of my own. Just lost her two years ago to age, so yeah, I get it. Don't worry, we'll find him. I promise." She assured him confidently. Surprised, he raised an eyebrow and held out his hand. "The name's Bishop." "Eroeh." she responded in kind, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. Whiterun could wait, surely there were other survivors already spreading the news about Helgen. "Mind if I grab a drink for the road before we leave? It's been a bit of a long day."