Pain. That is the first thing my mind registers as my eyes open. I can tell from my vision that my left eye is almost swollen shut. My right cheek throbs and I can taste blood in my mouth. I slowly sit up and try to evaluate my other wounds. Both wrists are badly bruised. Multiple bruises are blooming along my ribs and inner thighs. Given the tremendous amount of pain between my legs, I'm not surprised to see fresh blood seeping out onto the stone floor of the cave I'm in. I don't see any trace of my clothes, but I do notice some old, empty sacks lying near the cave entrance.
Just think, yesterday my biggest concern was that I needed a proper bath. That is exactly what landed me in this mess. I had been tracking a herd of deer for several days and I was determined to catch up to them. The thought of fresh venison made my mouth water. In my haste to get my dream meal, I had neglected many other necessities, like sleep and bathing. When I finally spotted the herd near a tranquil lake, I felt like I'd hit the jackpot. A fine dinner, a soothing bath, and a much needed night of rest were finally within my grasp.
I nocked an arrow and took aim at a doe standing slightly away from the rest of the herd. My arrow hit its mark and I rushed down the hill to claim my prize. The doe was a little on the small size, but there's enough meat for a great dinner and I can dry the rest to take with me. I drop my bow, arrows and my knapsack near a large shade tree and begin skinning the deer. I can whip together a makeshift tanning rack tomorrow to begin curing the hide. It'll take several days to cure the hide and meat, but it's so peaceful here that I am looking forward to making camp and staying put for a while.
I get so engrossed in what I'm doing that I don't realize someone is behind me until I hear the snap of a twig. I jump up and instinctively reach for an arrow, but quickly remember that my belongings are next to the tree. A tall blonde-haired Nord in a Stormcloak soldier uniform is standing between me and my meager possessions.
"Well, well. What have we got here? You're an awful long way from home, aren't you Wood Elf?" the soldier asked. From the look in his eyes, it is clear that he isn't making polite conversation. Stomcloaks hate Elves of any race. There's nothing good that can come from this situation.
"Not really", I reply, "I have family not far from here. In fact, my father should be here soon to help me with this deer." While I try to appear relaxed and confident, my mind has kicked into overdrive searching for any way out of this situation.
"Hmm, that's interesting. We've been all through this area and haven't seen a single Elf." The soldier looked at me and licked his lips. "Looks like it's just you and me."
I spin on my heels and begin to sprint in the opposite direction. I can hear the Nord closing in on me. Damnit! If I only had my bow! My right foot catches in a tangle of briars and I slam into the ground face first. Before I can regain my footing the Nord grabs my hair and hauls me to my feet. I manage to twist around to face him just in time to see his fist come flying at me.
The next thing I know I'm waking up to this pain. Bastard must have knocked me out when he hit me. That would explain the pounding headache and the swollen eye. Everything else happened while I was unconscious. He must have slapped my face hard enough to bruise my cheek and bust my lip. The bruises on the rest of my body and the damage to my genital area occurred when he… he… raped me.
A small part of me wants to break down crying, but this world has no place for weakness. That's what my father used to tell me when I was a little girl. Just thinking of him makes my eyes sting with tears. He was the only person I had in my life. He taught me how to survive on my own. He died on my eighteenth birthday, but knowing that he is no longer carrying the burden of our family secrets is a gift in a way. I can hear him in my head telling me to get the hell up and fix this mess.
I drag myself over to the sacks and begin trying to piece together some makeshift clothing. After a few minutes I've managed to fashion a ragged looking robe and have some extra material to wrap my feet and hands in. Now that I'm covered, I slowly stand up and my body immediately screams in pain. I am a little unsteady so I slowly make my way out of the cave to attempt to figure out just where I am.
The sunlight seems overwhelmingly bright and I can tell it is early morning. I'm not too far from where I was when I killed the deer. I can see the tree where I dropped my supplies and I can just make out the lake. My best idea at the moment is to get to the water to wash up these wounds and hopefully find some herbs to help with them heal. Maybe, just maybe, my gear will still be there too.
After what seems like forever, I finally arrive at the large willow tree. Unfortunately my bow, arrows, and knapsack are gone. No time to worry about that just now. I ease over to the edge of the lake and pull up some soft, springy moss. I dip it into the cool water and begin cleaning off the dried blood. A soft sigh escapes my lips. Just the coolness of the water makes my eye and lip feel better. I continue to clean off all the blood and then begin looking around for some ingredients for a poultice for my injuries.
Fortunately I don't have to go far to find several things to help me—blue mountain flowers near the pond, some hanging moss from nearby trees, a couple of rock warbler eggs from a nest in the shade tree, and a few hawk feathers near a rock cliff. I manage to find an old mudcrab shell to use for a mixing vessel and a small rounded stone to grind my ingredients together. I mix up my poultice and apply it everywhere there's pain or blood. I can immediately feel relief. Then my mind turns toward another injury that may not be apparent now or even weeks from now. I need to find an herb that will prevent pregnancy.
I try to think back over the different remedies I'd heard my father talk about, but I don't recall him ever mentioning anything for this. Then again, it probably never crossed his mind that I'd need it. I bury my face in my hands and begin to sob. If my belly begins to swell with child, not only will I have a hard time surviving on my own, but anyone who sees me alone will assume I'm a common harlot who sold her body one too many times and I'll be treated as such. What am I going to do?
A memory comes flooding back to me, causing me to bolt upright. Once when my father and I were in Riften, I heard a woman talking to a potion vendor about being with child and that she needed something to put an end to her little 'problem'. She said she had come from a town called Suran in Morrowind and that she was some sort of dancer. I can't remember all the details, but I do remember her seeming desperate for a potion that contained imp stool mushrooms and slaughterfish eggs. The vendor told the woman that it was poisonous and would kill her, but the distraught foreigner kept saying that adding some yellow mountain flowers would keep her alive while stopping the baby from growing in her. I'm not sure if this will work, but I'm thinking it is worth the risk.
I trek back to the cave and find a couple of very small imp stools. I hope they're enough for my potion. I pick a handful of yellow mountain flowers on my way back down the hill and I find a nest of slimy slaughterfish eggs just in the edge of the lake. I wash out my mudcrab bowl and begin mixing my potion.
It smells acrid and tastes like I've ingested a rotten skeever. I can feel my stomach lurch and I close my eyes and try to fight off the urge to vomit. I begin to feel very lightheaded, so I carefully make my way back to the cave. I collapse on the floor and begin to pray that I live through this.
The next morning I wake up drenched in sweat and I feel weak, but at least I'm alive. Once again I make my way to the lake and wash up in the cool water. I know that I need to eat, but my stomach heaves at the very thought of food. I manage to keep down a couple of sips of water and I decide that will have to suffice for now. Besides I have bigger concerns to deal with.
I know that Stormcloak bastard has at a two day head start, but I resolve to catch up with him… and kill him. I want to start tracking him immediately; however, I decide to take time to fashion a crude weapon.
I find a nice piece of flint near the lake's edge and I use other stones to chip away the edges until I've fashioned a fairly sharp cutting edge. I know it isn't as effective as my bow would be, but I can't be choosy at the moment. In fact, slipping up on that bastard and slitting his throat will be much more satisfying.
I pick up on his trail and begin looking forward to the day when I get my revenge.
A/N: If you enjoy this story, please leave comments and reviews. This is my first story, so constructive criticism is appreciated.