Wow, this is my longest chapter yet- by almost a thousand words! I am so pleased with where this story is going and for the feedback I've been receiving- both in reviews and in PMs. You guys are fantastic!
But I'm curious to know y'all's opinions on what I'm doing. Am I going too slowly? Too fast? Have I completely screwed up a character? Want to see Ralof dancing in a gorilla suit? Please tell me so I know how to better cater this story to you, the readers. After all, if it weren't for you guys (and a little help from my friends), I wouldn't be writing this story at all. So let me know!
End of rant. Enjoy the chapter- we're off to Whiterun!
The Elder Scrolls is © Bethesda. I own nothing you recognize.
Despite my body needing a full night's sleep, I found myself waking at every creak the building made. I even grabbed my dagger at a loud banging sound before I realized that it was just the door to the inn closing. Once I did manage to fall asleep, I was plagued with nightmares, both old and new. I found myself up with the dawn, desperately needing more sleep, but I realized I wouldn't be getting any more when a knock sounded from the door to my bedroom.
"Rysta?" I heard Ralof's quiet tenor through the block between us. "Are you awake?"
"Yeah," I replied less than happily. "Be out in a minute."
The second I stepped out of my room and looked at the Nord, garbed once again in my Stormcloak armor, he flinched.
"Divines, girl, didn't you sleep at all? You look worse than yesterday!"
I shot him a look that would have put him in the ground. "I tried. Stupid nightmares kept me up most of the night." The man put a sympathetic hand on my shoulder, which I patted in acknowledgement before shrugging off. I was a big girl and I could handle myself, horrific nightmares or not. The two of us then left the inn and headed back towards Gerdur's house. I could hear the saw mill cutting wood already on the opposite end of town; Hod must have gotten up even earlier than we had.
"Gerdur said she's got some things to tell us before we go off and do anything," Ralof told me. I nodded.
"As long as she's got some food to go with the information, I'm okay," was my reply, my empty stomach giving a deep gurgle of agreement. Ralof chuckled as he led us inside.
"I've been thinking about what to do," Gerdur said the minute we walked in. The three of us sat down to a breakfast of leftover beef stew, cheese, butter on warmed bread, and goat's milk. Frodnar had left the house with his father that morning, so we spoke freely. "We need to tell Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun about this. Riverwood is completely defenseless against a dragon and we'll need as many soldiers as he can spare to help protect the town." Both Ralof and I nodded our agreement with her statement.
"I can stay here to protect Riverwood against the beasts while Rysta goes to Whiterun," Ralof suggested, talking around a mouthful of half-chewed bread. I stared at him, not liking the idea at all.
"You want me on the roads. By myself. Dressed as a Stormcloak. Yeah, that's going to go over real well with the Thalmor and Imperials," I snapped, the last couple bites of my breakfast left untouched. "Might as well paint a sign that says 'Arrest Me!' and hang it around my neck."
"I think I can help with that," Gerdur cut in, interrupting my tirade. Ralof and I looked over at her as she continued. "I've got a spare dress you can wear; you can put your armor in your bag. I'll give you some boots, too."
I thought about it for a moment. "All right," I agreed reluctantly. "But I'll need a hat of some sort, too. Something that covers my ears, if you can manage it." The woman nodded at my request and went to retrieve the items from the wardrobe as Ralof and I cleared the table.
"The dress may be a bit big," Gerdur told me as she brought the requested items over, "but I can fasten the laces tighter and hem it really quickly if the dress needs it." Ralof, sensing that we were stepping into girly territory, beat a hasty retreat, saying something about 'dragon patrols'. Our laughter followed him out the door.
"Now, if you'll just take off your armor, we can get this dress fitted." I did as the Nord woman asked, shucking my Stormcloak getup in favor of the simple green dress and cowl Gerdur had provided. She eyed me critically as I tried to smooth out a couple of wrinkles in the skirt. "It doesn't need much done to it, to be honest," the woman muttered, tugging on a sleeve. "This was one of my old dresses, from before I even met you. I'm surprised I still had it." I pulled my hair back with a leather tie she offered me before tugging the cowl over my head and sitting down to put on the boots. These were pretty ill-fitting, almost comically so, so I opted instead to just wear my Stormcloak military boots. No one would be able to see them under the dress, anyway.
"Do I pass muster?" I asked her, twirling around in a circle, arms extended. Gerdur smiled and nodded her head.
"Indeed you do. Now, let me get you some food for the road…" The woman grabbed my bag from where it sat on the floor and placed a couple of apples and some cooked beef in it before going over to a strongbox that rested on top of her dresser. After unlocking it she pulled a couple of items out. "I realize that you're low on coin, so here are a few things to tide you over," she told me, placing a garnet, a silver ring, and a necklace in my hands. I gasped.
"Gerdur, I can't-"
"You can and you will," she told me sternly, closing my fingers around the trinkets. Nodding silently, I added these to my pack. "Now, is there anything else you need?" I thought for a moment.
"You wouldn't happen to have some extra healing potions, would you? I didn't have time to make some more last night." Gerdur nodded as she strode to the fireplace mantel, retrieving three pink colored bottles.
"They're just minor ones," she told me, "so they aren't much, but hopefully they'll help."
"They'll help plenty. Thank you," I told her, placing the containers in my bag as well before slinging it over my shoulder. "I've got to go. Whiterun's at least a half day's walk from here, and that's if I don't run into any trouble." I made for the door. My hand was on the knob when Gerdur stopped me once more.
"Wait," she said, running back over to her strongbox. "There was something I meant to give you the last time you were here, all those years ago. I should still have it- ah ha!" She returned to me, smiling triumphantly. She extended her hand, a small brass key lying in her palm. "A key to the house," she explained. "You're always welcome here. Thank you for watching my brother's back at Helgen."
I'll admit, I teared up a bit. This was one of the kindest gifts I'd ever received. I couldn't speak past the lump in my throat, so I settled for taking the key, putting it in my bag, and then subjecting Gerdur to a hug that I thought rivaled hers. She returned the gesture and then we broke apart. I waved at her again, a smile on my face, before opening the door and walking outside.
I stopped by the mill before I left to say goodbye to Ralof, who was chopping wood while Hod and Frodnar worked the saw. Stopping at the edge of the fence that ran alongside the building, I caught the Nord's eye. He looked up from his work, a layer of sweat already covering his face. The man had changed out of his Stormcloak armor as well, instead wearing a plain white tunic with black pants.
"You leaving, Rysta?" he asked, dropping the wood axe onto the ground before walking over to me. I nodded.
"Yes, I'm heading for Whiterun now. I should arrive just after midday if I leave now." He nodded, smiling.
"All right then. You be careful, you hear? No getting into fights with any Thalmor you see on the road, no matter how much they deserve a good thrashing." I grinned at this and promised that I wouldn't start anything. I suddenly found myself in another smothering Nord hug, my nose buried deep in Ralof's shoulder. That was another thing he and Gerdur had in common- their hugs were borderline lethal.
"Thank you for doing this Rysta. Truly," he said, pulling away and eyeing me. "It means so much to me, my family, and the entirety of Riverwood. You're going to be saving a lot of lives by going to see the Jarl today."
I smiled, patting the large man's bicep. "You owe me a couple rounds of mead for this one, Nord," I responded. He laughed and agreed before pulling me into one more bone-crushing hug and telling me to be careful. I agreed once more, pulled away, and walked out of the city gates, following a path north towards Whiterun.
I want to say that it was one large fight to get to Whiterun, but that would be a lie. The roads were borderline deserted, with only the occasional refugee or Imperial patrol passing me by. It wasn't until I was within eyesight of the city that I spotted them. Tall and covered head to toe in Elven armor, I knew exactly who these people were.
Thalmor soldiers.
My blood ran cold and I had to physically stop myself from drawing my blade or hiding in an outcropping or rocks as we walked towards each other, the Thalmor heading in the direction I'd just come from.
They were silent as we passed each other, the soldiers not even sparing me a passing glance, although I saw one wrinkle his nose in disgust, as if he smelled something extremely distasteful. Oh, that was probably me. I'd forgotten to bathe that morning. As soon as they were out of earshot I released a panicky breath, nearly running the rest of the way to Whiterun, only slowing to a walk when I got to Pelagia Farm.
Which was when I saw the giant and the two people fighting it. On instinct, I called a ball of flames into my hand and shot it at the lumbering giant's body, the fire hitting it square in the chest. The larger of the two fighters took advantage of the distraction and sliced the giant's belly with his greatsword, sending blood and entrails everywhere. With one last groan of pain, the giant fell to the ground and the fighters sheathed their weapons. They then turned towards me and walked my way, pausing only when they were within speaking range. I smiled at the two.
"Farkas, Aela." The man, who obviously hadn't figured out who I was yet, cocked his head, confused as to how I knew who he was. Aela on the other hand had figured it out shortly after coming within 20 feet of me, a smirk sliding onto her face. That was the closest to a smile I'd ever seen her get.
"Well, if it isn't Rysta," the Huntress quipped, placing a hand on her hip. "It's been awhile." Farkas had started at the mention of my name and leaned down, coming close to my face. He inhaled quickly through his nose, much like a dog would, before his face broke out into a wide grin.
"Rysta, it's been too long," the towering Nord said, his arms circling my body tightly. Seriously, what was with these Nords and their hugs? I didn't think my ribs could take much more.
"Hey, Farkas," I replied, my own arms circling around the man's neck. We pulled away after a moment and I clasped arms with Aela, a hunter's greeting. "Hello, Aela."
"What are you doing here?" the Nord woman asked as we made our way towards Whiterun's gates. "Last time we saw you, you were heading back to Cyrodiil. Something happen?"
I shook my head. "A lot has happened," I replied, sighing. "And not all of it can be spoken of in public."
"You should come to Jorrvaskr, then," Farkas told me. "You smell of fire and death, anyway. You can take a bath when you get there too." Aela smacked the larger Nord in reprimand, but I merely laughed. It was probably true, anyway. I hadn't bathed since before I crossed the Cyrodiil/Skyrim border, and that had been almost two days ago. Farkas had always had a strong nose, just as his twin brother, Vilkas, possessed exceptional hearing. I chalked it up to growing up around warriors. Things like that tended to hone your abilities pretty quickly.
"If that offer comes with something stronger than water to drink as well, I'll stop by as soon as I finish my business," I told them as we approached the gates. The guards opened up the doors for the two Companions, but cut me off before I could walk through.
"Halt," one guard said, placing his body in front of me. "The city is closed due to rumors of dragons. Anyone not authorized cannot come into the city." Farkas and Aela looked like they were about to speak up in my defense, but I raised a hand, stopping them.
"I come bearing news from Helgen," I said, putting a strong note of authority into my voice. "I must speak to the Jarl about the dragon attack."
Everyone was silent for a moment as they absorbed my words. Understanding bloomed on Aela and Farkas' faces, although I didn't know why, and the guards just stared at me for another second before they moved out of my way.
"News from Helgen?" the second guard sputtered. "Go right on through, miss."
I nodded at them. "Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse us." I caught up with the two Companions as they walked through the city gate, the loud 'thud!' of the door closing behind us ringing in my ears.
"You really have news from Helgen?" Farkas asked, interest shining in his eyes. I nodded as we climbed the steps from the Plains to the Winds District of the city.
"I was there when the dragon attacked. Barely escaped with my life, but I got out. I'll tell you more once I get to Jorrvaskr, I promise." Farkas' face fell, and for a moment I swear I could see dog ears on his head, drooping in disappointment. The image was almost comical, but I retained my laughter and settled for a pat on his heavily-armored shoulder. "I should be there within an hour, if things go well," I told him. That seemed to mollify the male Companion a bit, for he nodded and followed Aela up the stairs to Jorrvaskr, a giant boat-turned-mead hall that sat on the side of a hill, the famous Skyforge billowing smoke next to it.
I waved farewell to both Companions before making my way past the Gildergreen, a huge tree that sat smack dab in the middle of the city, and up some more stone steps that wound up a steep incline, past the shrine of Talos and its crazy priest, Heimskr, who stood just in front of it, shouting sermons and prophecies of doom. The man had been half-mad with his love of Talos when I first saw him six years ago, and it seemed it had only increased in that time.
After climbing the multiple sets of stairs and crossing the bridge leading to the door of Dragonsreach, the Jarl's palace, I stopped, suddenly nervous. I'd never had a reason to meet with the Jarl before, and the thought of having one now was rather daunting. I looked down at my outfit, flinched at its simplicity, sighed, and then opened the door.
The interior of Dragonsreach is exactly what someone would picture for a Jarl's palace. High, vaulted ceilings towered above my head, the exposed beaming carved with gorgeous and highly detailed designs. Braziers hugged both sides of a wide staircase in front of me, and once I'd climbed it, I saw two long tables situated on either side of the room, furnished with the finest silverware and full to bursting with food. A great fire rose from a pit in the center, and beyond it, sitting languidly on his throne and speaking with another well-dressed man was Jarl Balgruuf.
Taking a deep breath and squaring my shoulders, I strode towards the Jarl, only to be stopped short of the dais by an angry-looking Dunmer.
"What is the meaning of this interruption?" She demanded, sword unsheathed and pointed at my throat. "Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors at this time." I eyed her, stepping away from the blade, my hands up defensively.
"Whoa, calm down," I told her. "I need to speak with the Jarl. I have news from Helgen regarding the dragon attack." The woman regarded me a moment, taking in my shabby clothing and overall disheveled appearance, before sheathing her blade.
"Well, that would explain why the guards let you in." She moved over to the side, motioning me to follow. "Come this way. The Jarl will want to speak to you personally." She moved towards the dais with me at her heels and I had to resist the strong urge to make a face behind her back. This Dunmer was haughtier than most of the others I'd met in my life, although I suppose standing at the Jarl's right hand would give anyone a bit of a bloated ego.
As soon as I was within twenty feet of the throne, the man – Jarl Balgruuf – looked up at me, his gaze as intense as one would think a Jarl's would be.
"So," he began. "You were at Helgen."
"Yes," I responded, dropping the "my Jarl" honorific. I did not belong to his Hold and therefore did not need to lower my status before him. "A friend and I barely escaped the city with our lives."
"And… you saw this dragon with your own eyes?"
I nodded. "I did. Came face-to-face with it at one point, quite literally. It completely destroyed Helgen and was heading this way the last time I saw it." The Nord man's eyes widened at my words.
"By Ysmir, Irileth was right!" he exclaimed, and I heard a quiet 'hmph' come from the Dunmer woman, a smug look on her face. I guessed the initial dragon information had come from her. The Jarl looked over to the man he'd been speaking with earlier, who stood on his opposite side.
"What do you say now, Proventus?" the Jarl asked, raising an eyebrow. "Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls against a dragon?" I realized that the Jarl was upset but doing a rather remarkable job at reigning in his temper. It was a good quality to possess and I found myself impressed with the man. Before this Proventus could get a word in however, Irileth spoke up.
"My Jarl, I think it would be wisest to send troops to defend Riverwood at once," she said. I nodded at her comment.
"That was why I initially came here. Gerdur of Riverwood requests your aid in defending the town against the possibility of a dragon attack."
"The Jarl of Falkreath will see that as a threat!" The well-dressed Imperial, Proventus countered, interrupting. "He'll think we've sided with Ulfric and desire to attack him! We shouldn't-"
"Enough!" The Jarl's voice rang out, instantly silencing both man and mer. It looked like he'd finally reached his breaking point. He looked over at Proventus, his eyes sparking. "I will not stand idly by while a dragon burns my Hold and slaughters my people. Irileth," he continued, facing the Dunmer, "send a detachment to Riverwood at once." I looked over at the woman and although not a muscle on her gray-blue face twitched as she acquiesced to her Jarl's orders, her eyes were practically dancing with merriment and self-satisfaction. Huh. No love lost between these two advisers.
"If you'll excuse me then, I will return to my duties," Proventus said, his voice tight with repressed emotion- probably humiliation, when I thought about it. Both Dunmer and Imperial bowed to the Jarl before leaving his presence. Balgruuf then turned to me, his face relaxing into a friendlier disposition.
"Well met," he told me, inclining his head. "You have sought me on your own initiative and have done a great service for Whiterun. I won't forget it." The man snapped his fingers and a maid immediately came running, carrying a small bundle.
"Here, take this as a token of my esteem." The cloth surrounding whatever was inside was drawn back, and underneath the thick red cloth was a gorgeous set of studded Imperial armor. I internally cringed at both the affiliation and the weight, but my mask of excited politeness stayed in place as I thanked the Jarl for his generosity and instructed the maid to have it delivered to Jorrvaskr. As she scuttled off, Balgruuf looked at me in a new light, his eyes appraising.
"There is one more thing you can do for me," he said quietly. I screamed mentally, already tired of playing the errand girl, but I stayed quiet and listened to the man's request. "I think it will be suitable for someone with your… particular talents." I raised an eyebrow at that. What did he know of my talents, beyond the fact that I walked quickly? "Come," he said, suddenly rising. I stepped backward, surprised at how tall he was; my head would just barely graze his chin. He didn't look that way when he slouched on his throne. "Let us find Farengar, my court wizard. He has spent years studying dragons and the rumors of dragons," he said, smiling as if what he'd said was a joke. I certainly didn't get it.
The two of us walked over to the left wing of the receiving hall, where we happened upon a man carefully studying a book, the cuffs of his dark blue robes scuffed with black, like he'd spilled an inkwell and had tried to mop it up with his sleeves.
"Farengar," Balgruuf said, causing the mage to drop his tome, startled. I couldn't help snickering. "I think I may have found someone who can help you with your dragon problem." The man nudged me forward to stand right in front of Farengar before taking his leave. The mage – a Nord, I was shocked to discover – looked me over.
"So," he said, his voice thick with absent condescension, "have you come here to discuss the ongoing hostilities like the rest of the 'great warriors'?" I raised an eyebrow, placing my hands on my hips. Had he not heard what his Jarl had just said?
"The Jarl said that there was a project you needed help with. I was volunteered."
Farengar's eyes immediately lit up, like a child's would at the mention of the New Life Festival. "Oh, you must mean my research with the dragons!" he exclaimed, his attention now fully on me. I resisted an eye roll. This man was very bad at listening to people. "Yes, I need someone to fetch something for me." I wanted to plant my head in my hands so badly right then. Another errands job? Did I have a sign on me saying "courier"? I hoped he held no illusions about my getting it today, because it wouldn't happen. "Well," he continued, "when I say 'fetch', I really mean 'delve into a dangerous ruin to find an ancient stone tablet that may or may not be in there'." I stared at him openmouthed for a moment before scoffing. Not only was I an errand girl, I was apparently a disposable errand girl.
"You're serious?" I asked, crossing my arms and shifting my weight over to one leg- the picture of a disgruntled female.
The change in my stance – which would send a normal man running for cover – went completely over Farengar's head. "As the grave."
I thought for a moment. An opportunity like this could mean two things: a lonely, violent death, or glowing praise and a hefty sack of coins. I smiled at the thought. It seemed my time with the Thieves Guild rubbed off on me more than I thought it had. "All right," I agreed, "where am I going and what am I 'fetching'?"
The man turned business-like again, walking over to a map he had pinned to a standing board. "I discovered some information regarding an ancient stone tablet down in the ruins of Bleak Falls Barrow," here he pointed to a spot on the map not far from Riverwood. I remembered Ralof mentioning it as we were walking from Helgen. "It's called a Dragon Stone, said to be a map of ancient dragon burial sites." He looked back at me.
"So, what I have to do is go into Bleak Falls Barrow, an area probably filled with skeletons, draugr, and bandits, fight them off, find this "Dragon Stone", which will undoubtedly be in the hardest to reach area of the ruin, get it, and bring it back to you, all without dying."
"Basically," Farengar replied, shrugging. I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"All right. I'll leave in a couple of days; I just need to get some supplies first," I replied, already sick of the trip.
I bid farewell to the mage, who by now had returned to his books and was once again completely oblivious to the world, and made my way out of Dragonsreach and towards Jorrvaskr. I walked down the steps to the Winds District, passing the Talos shrine to my left, and up one more flight of stone steps. I walked towards the entrance to the mead hall and put my hand on the door. I pushed it open to find the entirety of the Companions, even Kodlak, with his rheumy old eyes and slightly rockjointed hands, drinking and making merry in the great hall. At my entrance the volume increased, old friends yelling their greetings and the whelps being loud just for the sake of it. I looked at them all before my eyes settled on a giant keg of mead sitting in the middle of it all. I looked at my friends, a grin lighting my face.
"Got room for one more?"