Authors Note: A story built off Ralof's eluded history in Helgen. It was just one line, but sometimes that's all it takes. The plot at the end doesn't quite follow the story in Skyrim, but whatever. also, I am not sure if I got the ages completely correct, but it's just my best guess. Writing a review with some feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thanks and enjoy! If you liked it, i will most likely write a sequel that I will publish probably publish in a day or three.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
The morning was frigid, as always. A thick mist lay low to the ground, shrouding everything more than twenty feet away. The ancient pine trees seemed to creak without any wind causing them to sway. The forest was still. Silent. Ralof's favorite time of day.
He crept silently through the woods, bow in hand and quiver on his back. He had crafted the bow himself, since his father would not buy him one, claiming it was 'a waste of time' while he could be helping him at the mill. In Ralof's mind, working at the mill was a far greater waste of time than hunting was. Perhaps it was because he was 14, and still quiet ignorant.
He was tracking a particularly large deer this morning, probably a buck. He had shot and killed one of the four rabbits he had seen this morning. He was not a very good marksman, but he claimed to his father he was getting better. His father would have no word of it.
Ralof continued following the signes, tracks in patches of snow here, a snapped sapling there, droppings yonder. The local huntsman had taught him how to track, which was one thing Ralof found he was satisfactory in. This deer was proving easy to follow; it left many telltale signs where it had been. From what he could tell, it had been there rather recently as well. As he went on, the sun started to slowly rise and some of the mist started to dissipate. From the position of the sun, Ralof saw it was around 8:30. His father wouldn't be wondering his whereabouts for several hours.
Ralof soon came to a clearing and was about to pass through it when he stopped dead in his tracks. At the other end of the clearing, nibbling on a snowberry bush.
Ralof instantly went into a crouch and slowly and gracefully drew an arrow from his quiver. He brought his bow into a horizontal position and nocked the arrow. He drew back as far as he could and took careful aim at the beast's heart. He let the arrow fly. He felt the bow roar to life in his hands, the string violently vibrating after the shot. There was a satisfying sound as the arrow hit the buck, but not in the heart. The arrow had flown to high and pierced its flesh just above its heart. In an instant it took off, bolting into the woods.
Ralof, determined not to lose this deer, for the third time, took off in an all-out sprint after it. He dashed through the woods, branches whipping at his face, saplings and fallen logs hindering his pursuit. He was losing it. Anger spurred him onwards. I am not going to lose it again this time! He thought angrily to himself.
As Ralof gained on it, something peculiar happened. The deer just stopped dead in its tracks. It took a few desperate and unsure staggers forward before halting completely. It swayed for a moment, making low huffing noises, then fell to the ground with a heavy thud. Ralof smiled to himself. His first deer. Now how was he going to bring it back to Riverwood?
He decided that instead of taking it all the way back to his home in Riverwood, he would just take it back to his hunting cabin instead. Doing that still took the better part of two and a half hours. When he finally reached the little cleared away area that held his small cabin, shack would be a more appropriate title; Ralof's bones ached with exhaustion. He heaved the buck down against the outside wall of the wooden shack and collapsed in the cot inside. The shack was very simple, with no door, glassless windows, and many a hole in the roof. It had a desk in one corner with a chest full of supplies beside it and a crude hide cot in another corner. It was small and one roomed, but cozy enough and well away from the road and the prying eyes of others. Ralof would often come here to seek solace from his duties in Riverwood. It was also very convenient for a place to go after a long hunt. It was perfect.
Ralof lay for a moment in the cot, very pleased with himself for bringing in the deer. He unslung his bow and quiver and hung them on a hook near the door. He refastened the steel dagger on his belt, as it had a habit of sliding down too far, and was about go about skinning the deer when he membered what time it was. Shit! He thought to himself as he frantically ran from the shack. I had to help father at the mill today! Oh he's not going to be happy with me….
And indeed he was not.
"Where have you been?" his father demanded. He was leaning heavily on his woodcutting axe, his face beaded with sweat. Ralof and his father stood in the fenced area behind the mill where the wood was chopped and stored.
"I was in the woods," Ralof said evenly, not showing any signs of fear or contempt.
"In the woods," his father mused. "I don't suppose you actually shot anything in the woods, eh?"
"I did. I shot a deer," Ralof said. His father laughed. It was no use. He didn't believe him.
"Of course ya' did. Now go get that axe of yours and get to work. I want those stacks chopped and restacked by the end of the day, ye' hear? Get to it!"
"Yes father."
Ralof sauntered off to get his axe. As his father turned to go, he saw his wife standing at the entrance to the mill. She briefly greeted Ralof as he passed her then approached him.
"Arlen, you shouldn't be so hard on the boy. He's only fourteen."
"Aye, but he is strong. He is also noble, I will give him that. But it is time he start taking some responsibilities of his own."
"Yes but you could be a little easier on him."
"Marie, I am his father. My father did the same for me when I was a boy. Ralof is strong. He can handle it." Marie looked indifferent, but said no more only sighed and nodded. Arlen turned back to his work.
Ralof was silent at dinner. He was tired and ate almost ravenously. Anger at his father still burned hot inside him. He barely looked at him throughout the meal. Marie and his sister, Gerdur, were also picking up on his mood. Several times Marie opened her mouth as if to say something, but stopped herself before she did. Ralof excused himself and went to his room he shared with Gerdur. When his sister came into go to sleep, she asked,
"Are you and father in an argument?"
"No," Ralof said flatly.
"Are you mad at one another?"
"No."
"Well then what is it?"
"Gerdur—"
"Come now, I just want to kno—"
"Gerdur—"
"What?"
"We're fine. Were both just weary, that's all. Now let it be." His sister looked unsatisfied but nodded and didn't say more. She let her long blonde hair down and crawled under the fur blanket on her bed and swiftly fell asleep. Ralof followed her lead and climbed into his own bed, sleep quickly swallowing him into darkness.
The next morning was Sundas, and Ralof had the day off. It was notably warmer that day; at least it was warm for a Nord like Ralof who was accustom to frigid temperatures. The sun shone off the morning dew in the grass, catching its golden light, making the forest look like a haze of green, brown and gold. It was quiet beautiful.
On this particular morning, Ralof was armed with his bow, but was not really hunting as much as he was just wandering the forest aimlessly. He was enjoying the stillness of the forest, when a blood curdling shriek pierced the air. Ralof's heart raced and without so much as a second thought, took off in the direction of the scream. After he had run a few paces, he heard the scream again, only this time sounding choked. He found a little path leading to a spiked wooden fence and he sprinted for the gate. Inside, he looked upon a horrible seen,
He was in what looked like to be an overgrown yard with a weathered shack in the back of the lot. In the middle of the grove, stood a Hagraven and clasped in its claws was a girl. She was suspended in midair by the Hagraven, it holding her by the neck. A few more seconds, and her own weight would surely kill her. The girl caught sight of him and screamed a cry of help. Acting on instinct, Ralof nocked an arrow and fired. The arrow struck the Hagraven in the thigh and it howled in pain and dropped the girl. Ralof tried to nock another arrow but the Hagraven was too fast. It advanced on him with the speed of lightning and he barely had enough time to dodge and block its frantic attacks. Quickly, he drew his iron dagger from his belt and counter attacked the creature. He cut its arms, its chest, anything he could put his blade on. Finally, he saw the perfect opening after he blocked its attack and staggered it. He slashed at its neck and a hot trickle of blood spewed from the wound. The flesh of the Hagraven was weak and frail, and the sharp dagger easily sliced through it. The strike was powerful and clean, and lopped right through the thin neck of the Hagraven. Ralof watched disgusted as the head fell to the ground and rolled away.
Ralof was breathing hard. He had never done a thing like this before. It was disgusting it was life threatening it was… exhilarating. Thinking for a moment, he decided he had never before felt this sense of being truly alive than he did with the Hagraven just now. Ralof looked up from the corpse and realized for the first time that the girl was still there. And realized how beautiful she was.
"Gods be praised, thank you!" the girl said, gratitude ringing in her still slightly choked voice. She gently massaged the place on her neck where the Hagraven had held her. Other than a few red marks, she seemed unscarred from her encounter.
Ralof was surprised and momentarily stunned. "Aye you're welcome…" he mumbled.
The girl must have been about his age, maybe a year older. To Ralof, she looked to be Breton, but he couldn't be sure. She had long hair that fell over her shoulders that shimmered slightly in the sun. She had stormy grey eyes and pouting lips. She had a slight figure and she was a little on the shorter side that suggested her Breton heritage.
"How did you find me?" she asked walking across the yard to him.
"Well, your screams could probably be heard over a mile away." She blushed a little.
"I'm Susan."
"Ralof." Susan briefly made a face.
Susan briefly made a face. "Nords and their funny names," she teased. Ralof reddened. Had it been any other person, he would have become defensive and angry.
"Is this how you treat your saviors?" Ralof teased back.
Susan thought for a moment. "No."
"Well thank the Divines. Where are you from Susan?"
"Helgen."
"Helgen," Ralof repeated. "And what are you doing all the way out here?"
"Well I was collecting ingredients for one of my potions and I kind of wandered off and got a little… lost,"
"I see. Well, Helgen is not too far from here so I suppose I could assist you coming home so you won't… wander off again." Susan smiled.
"T'would be lovely."
Susan spoke most the way back to Helgen, a three hour walk from Riverwood. She spoke of home and that she was here with her ma' and da' and such. Ralof listened quietly and carefully, remembering each detail. She spoke softly and carefully, and with an unmistakable High Rock accent. He nodded and agreed at the appropriate times (or disagreed). He found it hard to think clearly while she spoke to him. He grieved when they neared Helgen, for they had to part. Susan stopped a ways up the road from the main gate.
"Thank you again, for savin' me back there. I would have surely been dead if you had not come along."
"Say nothing of it, m'lady." Susan blushed when he called her that. Without Ralof knew what was happening, Susan lightly wrapper her arms around his neck to draw him closer and kissed him. The kiss was brief but not sisterly. Her lips were soft and warm, feeling especially pleasant in the chilled air. She drew back, looked slightly embarrassed for a moment then said,
"Come find me in Helgen some time, if it pleases ye'."
"I think I will." Susan smiled, then turned and walked on down the road into the village. With that, Ralof made his way back to his own Riverwood.
Six days later, Ralof and his friend, Hadvar, were once again, doing chores at the mill.
"Ralof, watch it with that axe, will ye'! You almost took my head off!" Hadvar yelped and sidestepped out the way of one of Ralof's swings.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"You got something on your mind, my friend? You seem a bit distracted."
"Do I? Sorry. No, nothing is on my mind," Ralof said absently. Hadvar looked at him unsurely then went back to work stacking the wood. They worked in silence for a bit.
Hadvar broke the silence. "Did you see those Imperial soldiers come through the town yesterday?"
Ralof looked up. "Yes, what of them?"
Hadvar shrugged. "They were patrolling the roads for bandits. I wouldn't mind joining the Imperial army someday."
Ralof grunted. "Wouldn't be too bad I guess. They do keep us safe from bandits and such."
"Yeah," Hadvar agreed. He gave up trying to make conversation.
Finally, Arlen called it a day and told the two boys to go home for the remainder of the afternoon. Ralof could barely help but bolt home and wash his face before bolting out the door again.
"Where in the name of Talos are you going?" Gerdur demanded as he left.
"Nowhere. If mother or father asks, I'm with Hadvar." Gerdur nodded. He could count on her.
By the time he reached Helgen, the sun was just about to set. As he passed through the town, he couldn't help but feel it was rather deserted. As he reached the far end of it, he started to hear the sound laughter and clinking glasses and music coming from the local inn. He went in.
Inside was warm and lit by the roaring fire in the fireplace. People were gathered around the floor dancing and singing while bards played a fast and upbeat tune on their stringed instruments. The room was full of merriment and festivity. Ralof smiled, but saw no sign of Susan. He sat down at the counter and ordered mead. Only then did he spot her sitting at the other end of the counter, watching the dancing, a little smile playing on her lips. She was dressed in a cinnamon colored dress and her hair was held back in a loose braid. Ralof's heart rose.
He seated himself beside her at the counter. At first her expression was of hostility then she realized who it was and it transformed to surprise and delight.
"Ralof! I hoped you'd come one of these days."
Ralof smiled. "Here I am m'lady." Susan smiled.
"What took you so long? If not for alchemy, I would have gone mad from boredom."
Ralof snorted. "You keep messing with those potions you are going to go mad."
Susan smirked. "Shut up." She looked around the room in half bewilderment."We didn't do a lot of this back in High Rock," she said. "You Nords are rather funny in your traditions."
"It's the end of the working week. It's a good a reason as any to celebrate." The bartender brought Ralof his mead. Susan made a face.
"What?" Ralof said.
"You drink that stuff?"
"Yes. I guess people here in Skyrim started having a drink before people in High rock do?"
"Yes."
"Well, you're in Skyrim now, so here, have some. Hey, can I get another one?" The bartender nodded and smiled slightly. Susan shook her head.
"No—really, I'm fine."
"Oh come now, it's not all that bad. Actually, there seems to be juniper in this. It's quite good." Susan looked unsure for a moment. Then, she took the mug, took a good swig and set it back down.
"I love juniper," she said. Ralof had a good laugh.
"That's my girl."
The night went on. Ralof ordered more drinks for both of them and used most the money he had made that week at the inn. The music didn't die down at all, just became livelier as the night went on. They found themselves stopping and clapping to the rhythm of the music the bards played and joined the merriment. At one point, Ralof convinced Susan to come dance with him.
"Do you even know how to dance?" Susan asked skeptically.
"No."
"Then how are we going to dance?"
"Show me." Susan hesitated a moment then took his hand.
She led him out to the floor where she then led him into a basic dance. They danced to the beat; they're bodies meeting as they gracefully moved this way and that across the floor. The violins and lyres picked up in rhythm and the crowd was starting to stomp there feet to the tune. Soon, the music was overpowering, enveloping them in a sound that seemed to be alive in their bones. Gradually, all eyes were turning to them, as Susan led him through the dance, moving gracefully alongside him. Ralof realized he recognized this particular dance and started to match her movements with ease. The music was gradually increasing tempo and Ralof had to work a lot harder to keep in time with it. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he was breathing hard. He could tell Susan was as well. The song was coming to an end. Ralof's instinct told him what to do. As the final notes were being played, he held Susan then swiftly let her go raising his arm so she could spin once before falling and him catching her in the crook of his arm. Her chest heaved in and out as she caught her breath from the dance and her eyes stared deeply into his own ones. They didn't even realize the attention of the entire room was on them. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch as two young people had performed such an intense yet elegant dance. Perhaps it was the Juniper Mead (Susan would later claim so) but before they knew what they were doing, they were kissing. In front of the entire population of Helgen. Ralof's eyes were closed and so was Susan's. Her lips felt soft against his own and he never wanted this to end. At first it was only a single clap from one person. Then a few more people joined in, clapping. Then about half the people joined in, clapping in applause. Soon enough the entire inn was alive again with clapping and cheering for the two, as they went on kissing, oblivious to the world around them. When they finally broke apart, they look around them and both turned redder than they had ever been before.
"Oh dear," Susan whispered in his ear. "Isn't this something to remember?"
Ralof smiled and laughed. "Aye. 'Tis."
That night, he walked her home again. Thankfully, her family wasn't at the tavern when they were there, so the missed the whole event. Both would have been mortified if they had seen them kiss. She walked up her porch and leaned on the rail, looking down at him with an absent minded admiration. She seemed to shimmer in the light of the moon, her hair turning a silvery color and her eyes seemed to glow.
"You dance well, Ralof of Riverwood."
"As do you, Susan of High Rock."
"Helgen."
"Eh?
"Susan of Helgen," She corrected him. She smiled stunningly then with that turned and went into her house. Ralof felt weak in the knees. Oh, what a night to remember.
When Ralof finally arrived back at his house (he didn't feel comfortable renting a room or camping somewhere, he just decided to walk back along the long road to Riverwood) he fell into his bed. He lay there, thinking of Susan, a warm sensation spreading around his body. He wanted her. He wanted her badly. He thought of the way they kissed in the tavern, how soft her lips were, how warm her mouth was. He thought of the moment when she was about to go, when she was on the balcony and how beautiful she looked, she made him forget all of his troubles for a while. He would surely go see her in the morning. There was no question.
Ralof rose early the next morning. He packed a loaf of bread and some weak wine and was about to leave when he saw a note stuck to a post outside his house. It read,
Lake Llinalta. By the three strange standing stones.
He understood. And that was just down the road from here. Smiling merrily to himself, he set off down the road.
Susan stood with her back to the road as he approached. She looked out over the lake and at the little island in the middle.
"Hello, m'lady," he said as he approached.
"Oh, don't you think we're a little passed formalities?"
"Yes but you enjoy it when I call you so." Susan smiled with adoration.
"Yes."
"I brought a breakfast… of sorts."
"Are you trying to get me drunk again?"
Ralof was slightly taken aback. "No. Is it still necessary? Because if so I could—"
Susan laughed. "No—its fine. Really."
"Alright."
They clambered down the rocky cliff and walked along the shore until finding a suitable place to sit and eat. They ate in silence, admiring the beauty of the lake. It shimmered like a thousand sapphires in the sun and the water looked clean and clear.
"For being so damn cold, Skyrim sure is beautiful."
Ralof grinned. "Yes it is so."
"I want to go out there," Susan pointed to the little island in the middle of the lake.
"There's nothing out there but a few trees. Besides, the water is freezing. Its snow runoff," Ralof said skeptically.
"I don't care much. Besides, it's warm-ish out today. We'll dry relatively quickly." Ralof sighed.
"Alright." Susan beamed.
"I'm not a very good swimmer, just so ye' know."
"That's fine," Susan said and pulled off her shirt. Ralof's heart jumped. She was wearing nothing but a silvery shift underneath. When she finished undressing, she gestured to him.
"Come on then." He undressed and followed her out into the water.
They lay on the little island, bathing in the sun, fingers entwined.
"Ralof?"
"Hm."
"I need to tell you something." He rolled over on his side to face her.
"Yes?"
"I needed to tell you… well…. My father has done some very bad things. And for our safety, we are leaving Skyrim." Ralof sat up.
"What?" he cried.
"I—I'm sorry it has to be like this. But listen, if it's meant to be, then it's meant to be, And if it is, then we will see one another again. Ok?"
Ralof shook his head. " No… no it is not ok Susan… Damnit, I've just never felt the way I feel about you before. I don't want this to end. I don't want you to leave." Susan sat up and he held her in his arms, and she brushed the stray hair from his eyes.
"Nor do I. I've come to love Skyrim. I've even come to love this damnable cold. But most of all, I've come to love you." She kissed him. He leaned over her, covering her. They pressed together on the soft grass on the island, their body's one. He could feel hers pressed against his, the soft curves of her chest and her breath against his face. He never wanted this to end.
The next morning she was gone. Ralof didn't even bother to get out of bed. Or eat. Or work. Or speak. He just lay there, thinking of Susan. He missed her already, the smell of cinnamon and burning wood. He missed the softness of her hair; he missed the feel of her body. He missed her little Breton accent, the way she pronounced her t's more sharply and the way her words were sometimes clipped. He missed just being around her, not having a care in the world. He wanted her back. But there was nothing he could do. Deep and alien ache set in over his heart, but not a single tear fell. No, he would never let that happen.
Eventually, Ralof finally rose from his bed. It had been three days since she had left. His heart was heavy and seemed to physically weigh him down. It was late afternoon. He wandered towards the forest, along the way crossing his father in the road.
"Where have you been?" Arlen hadn't even come into his room to check on him in the last few days. Gerdur had told his mother that he had fallen ill. In a way, it was true, but he feared it may be much worse than that.
He barely so much as glanced up at his father as he made his demand; he just kept slowly walking towards the forest, numb to the world.
FOURTEEN YEARS LATER
Ralof sat in the back of carriage being pulled by an Imperial horse alongside three other prisoners, one asleep. Among them was Ulfric Stormcloak himself, though he was heavily bound and gagged. Ralof had an impending sense of doom as they approached their destination. His hands were bound and he knew it would useless to struggle, for he knew an archer would shoot him in an instant. He feared this was the end. Ah, the other prisoner woke up. He addressed her briefly then remained silent. He looked at the man beside him. He claimed he was a horse thief caught stealing by the empire.
"Where are ye' from, horse thief?" The man looked up.
"Why do you care?"
"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."
"Rorikstead. I—I'm from Rorikstead."
As they neared their destination, Ralof hear the Imperial soldiers calling to each other from atop the walls. As they entered the town, Ralof was shocked to discover he was in a familiar place.
"This is Helgen…. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. I wonder if Mi'lod still makes that mead of Juniper Berries…" That was when the prisoner who was previously asleep was staring at him intently. It was a woman. And a quite pretty woman at that. Not until she spoke did he realize who she was.
"Ralof." Ralof's heart skipped a beat. He stared at her, completely shocked and dumbfounded. The only words he could manage were,
"Hello m'lady."