So it's been a while since I've posted anything on my other story and a lot of it has been due to medical reasons. I've only just now been able to write again and have several chapters written for the Shadow and the Widow. (Just not edited and posted yet.)
However, I got inspired one day while playing Skyrim and I just wanted to get it out of my system. As for this chapter, it's a essentially a work in progress for a Skyrim Fanfic.
Some things are slightly au/alternate events? I'm not really sure how to classify it at the moment but I hope you like it! Please R & R! I want to make sure I am doing the game/universe justice. No flames please. ^^
Chapter 1:
Unbound
7:10 am, 17th Day of the Last Seed.
...Darkness...Unending darkness...
As her eyes opened, the young woman winced in pain as her head throbbed, vision blurry. Although, the fog and misted air didn't help as she came to, figures before her only dulled outlines. Blinking a few times over seemed to help, though it did nothing for the knot on the back of her head or the dryness of her mouth and chapped lips. She swayed slightly from the jostling of the cart and the rest from sheer exhaustion.
"Hey, you...You're finally awake..." The man's deep, throaty voice pierced through the headache, making it worse and the girl's stomach churned. He saw her sway and was unable to help, his wrists also bound, and watched as she vomited on the floor of the cart. While the other prisoners scrunched their noses, the man sitting across from her could tell she had gotten worse treatment than the rest of them did.
The right side of her face was black and blue, sprinkles of red road rash mixed in. Her dark raven hair was caked with mud and dirt, hanging in greasy strings. Amber eyes were red-lined from lack of sleep, making her tanned Nord complexion seem grayer. A few lines of dried blood streaked her left cheek, drawing your eye to the rock-sized lump on her skull. Her clothes had seen better days, almost hanging on by a thread, tattered edges showing the intense wear.
"...Sorry..." She choked out, not bothering to wipe off her chin, only absentmindedly wriggling her wrists about in an attempt to escape her bonds. He noticed that she stopped after a while, seeing small red trickles pucker on the ropes.
"No worries.." He told her, offering a soft smile to which she frowned at. However, the blonde man seemed to pay it no mind. "You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."
"That's none of your business Stormcloak." She practically snarled at him, drawing into herself, not longing to be a part of any conversations. The woman shook her head and scoffed at the whole situation as if the gods were playing some sick joke at her expense. If I could have made it a few more miles...
Her eyes followed the dense pine trees and rocks, the dense fog continuing to be an ill omen, foretelling their doom. There had to be a way to escape, she wasn't going to get sent back to Whiterun or worse...But the more she looked around, the woman realized she would be dead either way, the cart she and the other strangers were in, surrounded by several others. Guards on horses bringing up the rear.
"...You and me- we shouldn't be here...It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants..." The woman's dirty hair flew back as she now brayed with laughter at the chestnut-haired man who caught her attention.
"Don't group yourself in with me thief...You have no idea what I'm capable of..." His color slightly drained and the woman noticed the blonde to her left stifle a smile before adding on.
"We're all brothers and sisters now, thief."
"Shut up back there!" The Imperial shouted at them, not longing to hear their conversation. However, unless he wanted the horse to be spooked or the cart to go into a ditch, there wasn't any way he could keep them from talking. So the band of misfits promptly ignored him, complaints and all.
"...And what's wrong with him?"
"Watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric, the true High King."
"Ulfric, the Jarl of Windhelm?" The man paled, stuttering as realization began to set in. "But if they- Oh gods...Where are they taking us?"
"I'll give you one guess..." the woman took a pointer finger and pulled it across her throat and immediately, he began praying to the gods in hopes they would save him. She rolled her eyes, knowing it was a poor shot given their current situation. If anything, the gods were using them now for entertainment.
"I don't know where we're going, but Sovenguard awaits...Where are you from horse thief?"
"Rorikstead...Wh-why?
"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home...And you lass?"
"I haven't had a home in a long time...It doesn't matter..."
Silence descended upon the group as they entered the settlement of Helgen, its high towers causing fear to form in the woman's stomach, only the horse hooves and sounds of Imperials reaching her ears. No longer did she hear the voice of the blonde man or the man from Rorikstead, only the call of the chopping block that sat in the middle of the square.
The cart jostled about, jerking them in their seats before they all were able to stand. Her legs shook from the several days of travel on foot, feet burning from cuts and pine needles embedding themselves in them, layers of filth settled on her toes.
"...Face your death with courage thief..." the man behind her said and some part of the woman wished she had paid more attention, but if she had, she was sure she would be more afraid too. However, it was no matter now as she had resigned herself long ago to her fate...For it was by her hand that caused her to go down this road.
"Step towards the block when we call your name! One at a time!"
As she went to step out of the cart, the woman fell, her body hungry and tired. Her ears rang loudly, eyes scrunched tightly as she gritted her teeth. She tried to right herself but with her wrists bound, it was difficult until a pair of warm calloused hands took hold of her left elbow.
"Steady on... Are you alright?" Her eyes met the man who had spoken to her when she first woke, blue eyes piercing her very soul. She could only nod and watched as they called her helper forward.
"Next! Ralof of Riverwood..."
Check.
"Lokir of Rorikstead."
Check.
Time moved slowly as her eyes widened slightly watching the man before her, panic and shout. He promptly ran away as his feet carried him across the pavement, escaping the only thing on his mind. Somewhere a guard shouted and shortly after, arrows flew and hit their mark. Her eyes took in the still figure as blood pooled on the cobblestone, arrows protruding from his back.
"Wait...You there, what is your name?" The guard watched as the woman limped forward, her breath catching with every step. His eyes briefly took in her feet, all red and angry, patience settling in as he knew they were all going to the block, no matter how long it took her to reach him. Her eyes stayed downcast as she said her name, barely above a whisper.
"...Rhys Dahlgren..." When she finally looked up, the Imperial before her looked confused for a moment before flipping to another page in his book.
"Captain-" He leaned over, showing her something in particular. The woman looked at her, then back to the book, and then back at her laughing madly. She promptly walked over and grabbed her by her bound wrists, dragging her over to a guard by the gate.
"It's your lucky day. You're to stand trial in Whiterun...You, take this woman to Whiterun and make haste. They'll be happy to know we've caught who they were looking for."
"Yes, Captain..."
Rhys felt herself get handed off and then get manhandled onto a horse, the soldier sitting behind her, an arm on each side so she couldn't escape. He nudged his heels and the horse took off, puffing and clopping on the faded road. She couldn't help but feel somewhat relieved, knowing she wouldn't be put on the block just yet, though she was sure that time would come once she was in Whiterun. The other bit of relief was being able to get off her feet, allowing herself to relax just ever so slightly.
"If you let me go, I can make it worth your while!" Rhys tried to shout above the noise of the horse and the running water that had appeared next to them after a rough thirty minutes of riding. However, the man said nothing as he focused on his duty, ignoring the smelly prisoner. She supposed if she lived, she'd have to get better at bribing and lying...Though it probably would have helped to have some form of gold or septims to her name.
As they soon came to a fork in the road, the man pulled the reigns making the horse turn to the right, only to bring it to a stop. She heard him take a gasping breath, fear and quiet settling in. Her amber eyes followed his sightline to see a glowing off in the distance, followed by an air-shattering roar. And though it was far off, the muddled roar still chilled the woman's bones.
Helgen was burning, a flying black figure in the sky.
"Oh gods..." The soldier barely choked out. Rhys swallowed hard, knowing that she and the Imperial had the same thoughts. That if they had stayed in Helgen they would have-
The woman shook her head, not wishing to finish the thought. It was the second time that she almost died and yet, something seemed to be pulling her back from the pit of death each time. It caused a bit of regret to creep in, guilt washing over her. No. She wouldn't be sorry. Rhys had made her choice and by the Nines, she would make sure to stand in her convictions.
Her thoughts were interrupted as the Imperial brought the steed to life again, to continue onto Rorikstead, further away from the death and destruction that had descended upon Helgen tenfold.
Riverwood, 9:00 am.
Rhys's body burned from tiredness and the sun; her hunger, and thirst growing from the hour and a half ride from Helgen. The Imperial guard had gotten her down and tied her to the horse, guiding them both into town, the horse limping from a thrown shoe along the way.
"...I'm thirsty..." She croaked out, her tongue crossing her lips, to which she flinched remembering the split and cracked skin. Her head continued to ache and throb, the now crusted blood slightly pulling her hair. Feet burning and uncomfortable from the lack of foot-ware and hurried escape.
"Quiet woman!"
Her stomach protested, her ribs pinching and aching as they slowed to a stop near the blacksmith. Rhys watched as the guard tied the horse to a post and made his way over to talk to the blacksmith, occasionally pointing over to the horse to which the blacksmith would nod. No one seemed to pay her any mind and whenever she struggled with the ropes, the Horse would grumble about the movement.
"Come along." The guard told her, taking the ropes he had tied her with, dragging her along. "It will be a few hours before we can continue."
She stumbled about, tears forming in her eyes from the pain and from the eyes that stared hard at her, wondering and speculating what the prisoner might have done to deserve this. Rhys hung her head so her hair would fall slightly, shielding herself from any further speculation as they entered what seemed to be a storefront.
The warm air from the fire washed over her and it soothed some of her aches and pains, save for the thirst and hunger she felt. Her nose picked up the scent of stew bubbling in a nearby pot, making her stomach act ravenous. Sighing, Rhys turned her attention to the sounds of arguing between the proprietor and a woman who sat at a nearby table. They seemed to have been going back and forth about a golden claw and Bleak Falls Barrow. However, before the woman could pick up anything else, the Imperial interrupted, tension now falling away.
"Nevermind the conversation, the Riverwood Trader is still open for business. What can I do for you?"
"A few pieces of cheese, please. Some meat if you got it."
"Will do." Rhys's eyes followed the passing of gold between the two men, soon following Lucan's hands as he prepared the Imperial's goods. His hand delicately tied the hempen twine, binding the brown paper around the meat and cheese, soon handing it over to her handler, thanking him for his business. The Imperial yanked on the rope causing Rhys to stumble again, her face burning as the couple whispered about her as they left.
"Hurry up!" He barked at her, now guiding her toward an inn named 'The Sleeping Giant'. Though her feet screamed in agony, she did as she was told, knowing if she tried to escape, he would more than likely call for the city guard to help. As they entered, sounds of mirth and laughter filled her ears, the smell of mead and ale heavy in the air.
When they approached the counter, the man behind it wrinkled his nose at Rhys, the stench of travel and days without washing coming off her. However, he turned his eyes over to the man, who asked for a room and drinks. The long-haired man guided them to where they'd be staying and to let him know if there was anything else he needed. The Imperial soon tied the woman to one of the bedposts before shedding off some of his gear, taking the meat and cheese he had purchased back into the main hall.
"I don't suppose I could have some!?" Rhys snarled, violently yanking at the ropes once again to no avail. Her eyes misted as she sat on the edge of the bed, a lump in her throat. How could she have been so stupid and naive? If only she had kept her down and not let her feelings get in the way, she would still be in Whiterun, the only problem being how hard she was working.
"...So much for your convictions Rhys..." She muttered, a few tears slicking her cheeks, using her shoulders to wipe them away. Her stomach continued to growl, her tongue still dry and fuzzy.
"Sounds like you're hungry." She jumped at the voice piercing her thoughts, her amber eyes landing upon the slender framed woman in the doorway. However, Rhys's eyes fell upon the full tray of food and drink in her hands, her mouth-watering with whatever saliva she had left.
The woman could see how hungry the girl was but also how hard it must have been to travel. Especially with the Imperial guard who didn't seem to care whether she made it or not to their destination. Furthermore, she had also taken notice of how the young woman limped inside, injuries apparent.
"Wait," Rhys paused, coming back to her senses. Her eyes narrowed as the woman entered the room, pulling a chair over and setting down the tray. "What do you want? Nobody is ever helpful just because."
"Look, you're probably right and maybe someday down the road, you can help me. But for now, just take the food and let me clean up your feet." She watched as the girls' amber eyes lingered on the tray of food before she finally took up the cheeses, meats, apples, and other fruits seemingly all at once. Her cheeks bulged, juniper berry stains on her lips, and a few streaks on her chin.
Hastily, Rhys soon took hold of the glass of wine and soon after, a glass of water. Each liquid was flavorful as the other, though the wine cause her cheeks to warm and her gaze to soften. Her body relaxed when she had another glass, shoving down more food before slowing down, stomach finally filling after days of not having food. Only apple cores, crumbs, and gristle remained, signs that a person had eaten well.
"Did you need more?" The woman asked bringing over a washbasin, setting it on the floor, and pulling out a few rags and bandages from her pouch. Greasy dark hair shook as the girl said no, the blonde taking her place at her feet. "..Tsk..."
"I know..." Rhy swallowed hard, tears floating along the rims of her eyes. Her body shivered at the woman's cold touch as she examined her feet.
"It's going to hurt, but soaking them should help get the needles out and keep them from getting infected. We'll do one at a time." The blonde could hear the young woman's quickened breaths as her left foot soon touched the water before dipping all the way in. Her breath caught between a gasp and sob, the pain unbearable despite the alcohol she had consumed.
Stifled sobs were the only noise in the air mixing with the sounds of the main hall. Rhys's chest was tight, her limbs shaking from the pain and the chill that had entered her body. Pinches and tugs reminded her of her run through fields and forests barefoot days ago as she tried to make haste. How futile it had been since she was almost back at Whiterun in the first place.
Her other foot soon entered the water, and the tears still came, though they were a little less as the woman began to wrap the other foot in tight bandages, seeming to take away the throbbing. When the blonde was done, Rhys's feet felt better than they had in days, finally able to wriggle her toes comfortably.
"That should feel a little bit better. And," The woman made her way over to chest at the end of the bed, pulling out a pair of soft leather shoes. "These should help at least a little bit."
"Th-thanks..." She replied, sniffling and wiping the tears and snot on her dirty sleeves. Slender cool fingers slid the shoes on just as an angry-looking Imperial entered the room.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The woman stood, her eyes no longer kind. They held now cold malice that made the guard shrink back ever so slightly.
"Ensure she gets to where you're taking her. I'm positive they want her alive...They would care less about you I'm sure." His mouth clamped shut, everything he had wanted to say cut off at the pass."You take care."
Rhys nodded and watched the woman clean up, before taking her leave and allowing the guard back in the room. He hastily got his gear back on and untied Rhys, tugging on the ropes to make her move. Granted she may be going off to her death a third time, but the sooner she could get away from this guard, the better.
I know the ending is somewhat abrupt, but it is a WIP and may not be the final product, but it will be continued once I'm done with my other story project. Thanks for checking it out!