Well here's chapter two, I hope no one is disappointed that I chose not to include the rest of the events at Helgen. I'm trying to avoid recounting the events of the game exactly because it gets really redundant. This chapter will have a bit of Brynjolf, but the storylines won't be converging for a while (sorry)! Also, writing battle scenes is not my forte, so I apologize if it's a bit choppy. Please enjoy and tell me what you think, I want to know where I can improve and make this even more interesting.
Liette was gripping the sides of her chair with white knuckles while Gerdur cleaned the burns on her back. This is what I get for not learning restoration magic from Ma. She relaxed her grip on the chair as Gerdur finished bandaging her back.
"Alright girl, now that the immediate problem of your wounds are taken care of, you and Ralof can be so kind as to explain what's going on." Gerdur turned and looked expectantly at her brother.
Ralof faltered under the intense gaze of his older sister. The memory was still too fresh it seemed.
Liette sighed, this was going to fall to her.
"Ma'am, I appreciate your kindness and you deserve the truth" she began. "We were captured and taken to Helgen for execution, but before we were put to the block, the town was attacked by a dragon. We barely managed to make it out alive. Isn't that right, Ralof?"
Ralof looked up with horror in his eyes. "It's true Gerdur, it's all true."
"I don't know why, but I actually believe you" said Gerdur, noting the terror in her brothers eyes. "We need to get word to the Jarl, Riverwood isn't defensible against a dragon. Please, this is all I ask of you in return for my kindness." And with that Liette was on the road again, eager to put this dragon business behind her.
The walk to Whiterun turned out to be a short one, no more than an hour. Although the burns on her back protested most of the way, the promise of a temple healer in the city was more than enough to keep her going. She found that Whiterun was a beautiful city, perched as it was in the middle of the tundra. After seeing the healer who was surprised that Liette couldn't heal herself, she started up the long stairs to the what she assumed was the home of the Jarl.
The palace looked imposing and she desperately hoped the Jarl would be agreeable. The last thing Liette wanted was to plead with a Jarl over a few extra guards, her pride would certainly suffer for it. She took a deep breath and pushed open the great doors of Dragonsreach.
Brynjolf tossed and turned on his cot in the cistern, trying to get comfortable on the hard surface. Turning over again, he gave up and decided to ease the pain in his back with some mead. Getting up to head to the Ragged Flagon, he thought better of it and turned to leave the sewers. The Bee and Barb sounded like a better option. At least there he wouldn't have to think about the pathetic state of the guild while he drank.
He was a thief, and a damn good one at that. But there seemed to be nothing he could do to keep the Thieves Guild from decaying. Day by day they lost more coin and fouled more jobs. Old Delvin seemed to think they were cursed and he was starting to think it might be true. He shook his head, trying to dislodge thoughts of the guild, to no avail. He had dedicated his life to the success of the Guild as it's number two, trying not to think about it was futile. Instead he walked the streets of Riften to the Bee and Barb, hoping to forget his troubles in a mug of ale and the arms of a prostitute.
Entering Dragonsreach, Liette found herself struck by the beauty of the structure. She wandered around quietly in the entryway for a moment, then tried to force herself to focus on the task at hand. She hoped when this was finished that she could sit down and make a plan for her life. She didn't want to go back to Cyrodiil, but she had no idea what to do now that she was in Skyrim. Liette was starting to notice the holes in the plan she had made to leave home, the ultimate goal had been just to make it to Skyrim, she hadn't truly thought about what she'd do when she arrived. A harsh female voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
"What's the meaning of this interruption?" growled Irileth. "The Jarl is not receiving visitors."
Liette drew herself up to her full height, not that it made a difference, she barely reached the shoulders of the Dunmer woman.
"Um...Gerdur sent me. Riverwood calls for the Jarl's aid. I-I also have news about the um, dragon attack in Helgen." She cursed herself for faltering, showing weakness to these strangers was not at the top of her priority list. The weak were manipulated and preyed upon, and she was determined not to let that happen.
"Well that explains why the guards let you in. Come, the Jarl will want to speak to you directly." said Irileth. She motioned for Liette to follow her to the end of the hall, where the Jarl was seated beneath what she could only assume was a dragon skull. A bad omen, as it turned out.
Days later, Liette dragged her feet as she returned to Whiterun with the heavy Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow. When the Jarl had given her the task, she knew he wasn't truly asking, if she didn't do as she was bid, she'd likely suffer the consequences. Being the plaything of a Jarl did not suit her fancy at all. Thankfully, Jarl Balgruuf and Irileth both seemed to be absent from the main hall of Dragonsreach. She slipped into Farengar-Secret Fire's offices and set the stone down heavily on the table.
"The Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow, you would do well to be more careful with it, it is a precious artifact" scolded Farengar. "But you seem to be a cut above the usual brutes the Jarl sends-"
"Farengar! You must come at once" interrupted Irileth. "A dragon has been sighted near the Western Watchtower. You should come too!" she said, pointing at Liette. Steeling herself, she followed Irileth to what was likely her death. Surely no one was lucky enough to survive two dragon attacks in the same week...
It was a short, albeit tense, jog to the watchtower. As the group of guards, including herself and Irileth, approached the burning rubble, the alien screech of a dragon tore through the air. Running full tilt towards the tower, Liette hoped to get a better vantage point from which to shoot. Climbing a relatively intact stone walkway, she could see the dragon approaching. The beast swooped overhead, blowing her dark hair into her eyes. She nocked an arrow, and waited for it to circle again. As it did, she loosed the arrow and it found its mark. Enraged, the dragon landed, knocking many of the guards back with the force of its weight. The guards rushed it, slashing it with their weapons. It roared in fury and pain and took to the skies again, raining fire as it did. Noticing the uneven flap of its leathery wings as it ascended, Liette aimed for what she thought was its weak spot: it's damaged left wing. The mark was true, and with a strangled cry the dragon crashed to the ground, dead.
A deafening cheer rose from the surviving guards, but Liette felt unsettled. Something compelled her towards the body of the dragon. As she got close, the corpse began to burn, fierce and hot until nothing but the massive skeleton remained. A surge of magic, an inhuman force slammed into her. She didn't feel like herself, flashes of memories that didn't belong to her were racing through her mind until they settled on one word. FUS. The strange markings she had seen in Bleak Falls Barrow made sense to her now, she had tried to put them from her mind, but they burned her now, crystal clear. She leaned over, thinking she was going to vomit, but the word, FUS came out instead. Liette was knocked back by the sheer force of it leaving her. She landed hard on her back and everything went black.
