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End of the Line

Chapter Two

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Joanne never believed gods existed outside of video games and were waiting to escort her into the afterlife. Eternal damnation sounded like something suited to her kind, however. The sin of sloth, and all that. So she floated in darkness weightless and unable to hear anything. Was this what happened when people died?

She seemed to float without purpose, without direction. Then a hole of light opened in the darkness, so bright she couldn't ignore it. Her movements weren't her choice as she approached it, sticking her head through. Never approach weird voids. Never acknowledge the weird voids. She broke her own rules.

And then a gasp for air successfully left her crushed throat.

Chirping birds...barking dogs...chatter...sound returned. Her first thought? I fucked up my death! Goddamn it! What's wrong with me! She was aware she was lying on grass, possibly having been moved out of her bedroom by paramedics and was about to be sent to the hospital. No, no she didn't want to be healed. Why would anyone try to fix what can't help them in return?

She felt cold as a corpse, but wait...it was the middle of August- Then she saw it.

Blue skies, green grass and old-fashioned houses with very tender looking roofs. She sat up slowly, wiped her eyes once and could barely force words out as she realized there was farm land and people dressed in heavy clothing tilling or harvesting without a care of her presence. Chickens wandered out of their pens, horses tapped the ground with anxious hooves and...this looked much too familiar.

She didn't want to move. She dropped instantly, shutting her eyes and desperately hoping this dream was over. She remembered hearing tales of people in comas having dreams, and her brain had to be oxygen deprived after her strangulation. She just had Skyrim on her mind and so her brain collected all the images together for this. That's not even going into how she couldn't have dropped the suicide attempt to play a round of vr. She didn't have a vr headset.

Then the ground rumbled. Horses neighed in distress, farmers cried out to their families to move inside. Joanne herself instantly panicked, but didn't dare open her eyes. Hours of wandering Skyrim prepared her for instant dragon attacks. And if this was a dream, what better way to be shocked out of it than burned to a crisp by one of Alduin's friends?

But the ground continued to shake, almost to the point of giving her motion sickness. She genuinely felt sick and hurried to sit up and find her footing. Big mistake. She was looking up at a giant. Every last hair on her neck was standing as she shakily stood up, trying not to make any sudden movements although the giant breathed rapidly and was waving its weapon wildly. It was about to strike her. She couldn't stop herself from screaming, breaking out into a run as the massive club loomed above.

Joanne never ran as fast as she did in that moment of genuine fear. She couldn't remember the last time she was so panicked, but managed not to trip over chickens and jumped in a pile of hay. The ground trembled and she thought she might actually vomit when the giant's steps came closer. What made it so angry? In her experience they were very calm unless actively approached. Many a time she walked right into one of their camps as her epic Dragonborn persona and stole plenty of treasures.

Her head and ears were pounding as the giant came closer. She dared to peek through, didn't even have the chance to scream when the club smashed through the hay pile. Before she could register the situation a strong, coarse hand was wrapped around her entire body and lifted her off the ground. Being tiny enough as it was she felt absolutely powerless if she didn't pass out from surprise acrophobia. The giant looked at her closely, snorting right in her face and studying what this pathetic life form was. She didn't provoke it. She held her breath and the burning vomit in her throat as there wasn't any way to fight back. Her whole body was getting crushed inside the hand, not that she would consider those bones breaking a waste.

Then an arrow whizzed struck the giant's neck. It roared in pain, staggering from the surprise attack and reaching with a free hand to rip it out. Joanne was dry heaving by that point. It was deafened both from the giant's noise and three voices shouting out plans to each other. She recognized every one, making this whole thing even more surreal for her. She was still at the giant's mercy, even when three more arrows pierced its back and raised arm. They weren't as painful as the neck area but that seemed to only be bait anyway.

The archer turned out to be a woman who looked strikingly similar to Aela the Huntress. In the flesh. Joanne blinked repeatedly, swearing if she wasn't dreaming she was hallucinating terribly. Skyrim's graphics untouched weren't the easiest on the eyes to begin with, but even with that combined with Joanne's glasses being unaccounted for even blurry she would never fail to identify these people. Then she was joined by Farkas and Ria, both drawing weapons as the giant turned and let them see its hostage.

"Let her go!" Aela shouted, triggering an absolute whirlwind fight.

Joanne knew that the giant was a scripted event, and had either joined in or walked past during her multiple playthroughs. She was in awe as she watched what she didn't want to believe was real life, but couldn't even blink.

The speed of the fight was much more frantic with the extra urgency of an endangered civilian. Aela switched from arrows to a blade, not missing a beat joining Farkas and Ria. The first to make a strike was Ria; she made contact in the giant's leg but didn't get too deep before it leaped back. Leaping back was a mistake, Farkas' chance to flank it. The giant was moving erratically in effort to avoid the two, but as soon as it landed on the opposite foot either Farkas or Ria forced their weapons through more flesh. It was deep enough the giant was roaring in pain and swinging furiously at them as blood was gushing out of its wounds.

Joanne was amazed to watch Ria move so swift, dodging the club at the very last moment. Farkas was getting a few hits, being much less graceful. And of course neither of them could roll and strike at the speed of light like Aela. Aela was so shockingly fast that Joanne could blink and miss her attacks.

The giant was stubborn to not have thrown her down yet. Joanne couldn't help but expect to hit the ground head first, blacking out forever. But the group saw a helpless civilian, and by Talos or Hircine or whoever they were going to finish this.

The giant was bleeding out too much to dodge, and it must have known. In desperation it made swinging motions to hit everyone. Aela was too nimble, leaping away and switching back to arrows in its chest. Of course she couldn't get the best shot with that damn club in the way. It was up to Ria and Farkas to risk getting slammed into the earth, and both made sure to aim where the deeper wounds were. Even though giants had thick skin, armor seemed to be a last minute thought.

Blood less meant dizziness, and the giant suddenly struggled to stand still. Joanne was waiting for the moment she'd be dropped. She counted the seconds, holding her breath. The strong fingers squashing her began to let go. Then gravity sent her plummeting.

"Don't let her fall!"

Joanne shut her eyes, expecting the embrace of death.

"I've got you!"

She felt herself fall against something hard, but not the ground. Internal organs already taking damage from being crushed by a giant, hitting against steel wasn't any better. Even if the landing was bad, she didn't hit the ground with muscular arms holding her up like the nothing she was.

For a brief moment she was speechless, seeing another face so close to hers. It didn't help that Farkas gave her a reassuring smile. How can you smile? She thought. There's nothing good here.

Ria and Aela took over seamlessly, the latter of which crippled giant enough it was on its knees and barely capable of attacking any more. It tried to take Ria next, but her sword cut through fingers and while it didn't take them off they were moving in ways bones prevent. The giant had almost no fight left, and Aela took the opportunity to take the finishing shot between its eyes. There was no need to draw out its suffering, and that arrow must have made an instant connect with brain tissue because the giant finally fell.

Joanne was gawking. Now that the action was over she had to process...everything. She looked to Farkas, an approaching Aela and Ria and buried her face in her hands groaning in disbelief. This wasn't real. It couldn't be real. But she was very much breathing and though wasn't in a position to pinch herself knew she was awake. Having so many unfamiliar - yet almost familiar - eyes on her made her anxiety spike, and she squirmed out of Farkas' hold just to make an undignified landing on her ass.

"Are you alright?" Ria spoke first, compassion in her eyes. She made a move to give her a hand.

The gesture was ignored. Joanne knew she had to look crazy, turning her head around and doing her final processes of the Companions and the dead giant and the Skyrim background...Her mouth was trying to form words, but only stammering came out.

"You...aren't from Skyrim, are you?" Farkas' question not only made Joanne look on in amazement, but Ria as well.

"What drew that conclusion?" Ria asked.

It was hard for Joanne to remember with all the shock, but Farkas was the one with...less intelligence? Ria must have been thinking the same thing, even if she was too nice to say it aloud.

"Look at her: she's fair as a Nord, but that's the face of a Breton if I've ever seen one." Farkas sounded sure of his theory, but made sure to look at Joanne for confirmation.

Joanne self-consciously brushed over her cheeks, wondering how many acne scarred and short and sickly thin Bretons were roaming around Skyrim. Also, Breton? The race with enough traces of elf to be reasonably easy on the eyes to certain people? What could she even say? If she went with Farkas' guess, she would have to explain not using her natural gift of magic against the giant. If she said she was a Nord they'd expect her to pick up a warhammer and charge into combat. Of course it was narrow minded to think all races had a certain look and couldn't appear different. But in her case she didn't have to fail at casting a spell or lifting a heavy object to know...no...just...no.

Joanne made the mistake of looking up. Aela's eyes bore into hers as if to search for an answer herself. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, but she couldn't cobble together an origin story on the spot. She couldn't do anything on the spot except faint. But Farkas wasn't finished talking.

"You're jittery, as if you want to tell us something but can't. But you seem harmless enough to me." The more Farkas went on, the more Joanne cringed. "You could have been captured from High Rock, brought to Skyrim to be sold into slavery."

"That's a hell of a leap." Aela cut in, still giving Joanne a suspicious look from the side.

Farkas was going to save her life or something. He didn't cower under Aela's other eye, the judgmental one. Then again he probably had been subjected to such a look for years.

"We don't know all the shady underground businesses in the world, Aela. War distracts."

"I'll admit she looks starved and barely clothed for the weather..."

Joanne wrapped her arms around herself, again. It was delayed, but she realized she wasn't in the form of the beautiful and in shape characters she played as. Not to mention all she had on was panties and long-sleeved nightgown that touched her toes.

Aela finally took her judgmental eye off her in a way Joanne wished she could read if it was sympathy or irritation. But when she set her eyes back on Farkas, expression clear: skeptical.

"If she's a Breton as you say, don't you think she would have shot one fireball at the giant?"

Joanne swallowed both remaining bile and the lump in her throat. Her neck was itching like crazy as she stood up, instantly summoning a concerned Ria to her side to steady her.

"Do you want the truth?" She asked, fighting twitching fingers on their way to claw the back of her neck. She waited, not expecting reaction.

"You don't have to tell us anything that makes you uncomfortable." Ria said first.

"If there's something serious going on, we might be able to help; that's what the Companions do." Farkas added, again, smiling without rightful suspicion.

Aela was the only one crossing arms, ready to launch into interrogation if she must. Joanne didn't blame her. Aela didn't believe she could be a Breton, but...could she? She at least had the complexion, and the lore for Bretons seemed subject to change whenever. The only thing she had to do was find a name with French sound. French influence was the first thing that came to mind when she thought of the race in general.

As reading her mind - oh please don't let her actually have the ability - Aela asked for a name.

Even where she came from "Joanne" wasn't exactly popular. Sometimes she was encouraged to shorten it to "Jo", but she always went by her birth name because she didn't know what suited her best. Before her depression diagnose even. If she had it her way now she'd be named "Human Insert Number" based on the population number when she was born. One of her therapists said that was progress from her initial plan to be "Nothing."

"So what's your name?"

The itching, the sweating...she was damn cold too. So of course her lips parted to say the first fake name she could think of.

"Anne."

There was a reason her artwork was based off existing scenery someone slaved over while being told to meet the Christmas deadline. Joanne was sure they must have caught her wincing, afraid to look anyone in the eyes. They were going to be so suspicious. Well, Aela already was. Clearly Farkas was eager to make friends and Ria was content to have the "nice" role in the Companions.

She wasn't sure how long she waited for rejection. She certainly didn't expect them to want anything else to do with her; if she truly was in Skyrim then...there was plenty of ways to die. Still they had gone through the trouble to save her pointless life, and that complicated matters.

Suddenly Farkas approached, no sense of personal space as he grabbed her hand firmly. If Joanne's eyes were bursting from the sockets and she looked terribly socially awkward that was true. Didn't seem to affect Farkas one way or the other.

"Welcome to Whiterun- Or should I say Skyrim? You get the point." By what could only be Divine intervention Farkas let go and made gestures between himself and the others. "We belong to the Companions. I'm Farkas, and that's Ria and Aela."

His friendliness should have been comforting, but Joanne just felt like garbage for what she was going to do next. She couldn't tell them where she was from. Even with Divines and Daedra Princes controlling everyone's fate, these people might have existential crisis's if they knew. She remembered Farkas was implied to be secretly intelligent, and clearly creative enough to come up with the enslaved Breton story.

"Will you be staying?" Ria asked out of nowhere.

"If Farkas' observations were actually correct..." Aela muttered, stepping back uneasily.

Joanne looked up at the cloudy sky, the farm animals going on about their day, and the residents taking careful steps out of their homes to investigate the Companions' work. She didn't want to believe any of this was real. For now she could play along. Why not clearly unsettle Aela while also taking advantage of Farkas' good intentions? She had no expectations of herself anyway.

"I honestly cannot remember how I came to be here, but Farkas' observations feel like the truth. Is that enough? I mean..." Joanne hated herself for not being able to shut up, but feared not saying enough would be more absurd. "You saved me from the giant! You helped me, but I'll admit I can't possibly return the favor! So...you know...you can go back to Companion things. We never have to meet again. I'll just- Just find myself a room at the local inn if I have to."

Joanne felt the disbelief coming from Aela's eyes in the second her gaze roamed to her, but surprisingly changed the subject slightly. Well to be fair she sounded like she was trying to end this as fast as possible.

"Helping is just what the Companions do...usually for coin. We're not the largest group, but when coming across outsiders I search for those with skills. Unfortunately I haven't found that today."

"Aela!"

Aela turned to an offended Ria with barely a sign of guilt for blunt honesty. The much less intimidating Companion approached Joanne next with a diffusing smile.

"Skyrim isn't at its best right now, but we should try to do what good we can. You must not have even a piece of gold on you if you've made it this far without supplies or proper clothing."

"Oh! No- no- I mean I could take a few jobs from the innkeeper, or something..." Joanne's words completely faltered as Ria grabbed her hand and deposited a few coins inside.

When she snapped her head up, Ria looked like an angel but Aela was thoroughly finished with this encounter and walked away fast with Farkas scrambling after her asking why she was so eager to leave and what would become of Anne.

"Should be enough to buy clothes and one bowl of vegetable soup at the inn." Ria informed her. "There's no shame in the circumstances that brought you to this land. Aela...takes time to warm up to others, but she does mean well. If you came to Jorrvaskr, the Companions' home you could say, you would see another side to her."

Joanne clenched the coins like they'd crumble to dust. She felt choked up, although it could have been the beginning of a terrible sore throat. The average person might be moved from generosity like that, but Joanne felt sick. Warm clothes and a steaming bowl of homemade soup? She didn't deserve either. She certainly didn't deserve Farkas or Ria shining light at her dim existence.

She didn't want to look like the lost puppy stumbling after wolves, but she had no choice but to take the path up to Whiterun. If her memory actually served her well then there was a Khajiit merchant Ria was probably referring to about the clothes. Joanne did enjoy playing Skyrim, and as she got higher and had a better look out at the guard tower and giants and mammoths in the distance she only felt dread. But if she was lucky she would find a quick death.

What else could she do? Pretend to be the main character of a video game and live through their dramatic change from too weak to kill a rat to stabbing dragons in the eyes? With a fork? The only other option was pretending to have the programming of an npc and stick to a strict schedule praying not to bug out.