(A/N: saturday the 5th was my birthday, you get a chapter in celebration. I really pushed myself to do more dialogue, please let me know how it came out. as I said previously, I'm accepting any input as to the story and what should happen.
Thanks to everyone who left kudos, Pynkest_of_Fae, RaeningNV, someonebored0100, Scarlettravencrove, Narcisz, bg3929, and the 3 guests! And thanks to someonebored0100 for commenting!
Lydia = Lilija, Joe = Jo'shak)
It wasn't long into the morning before the two of them were headed down the road to Whiterun. With a rucksack full of food and supplies from Sigrid and Alvor, weapons sharpened, wounds bandaged, spirits lifted. Hadvar had hugged each of them. It was awkward. The two compatriots were hoofing it at a decent enough pace, but damn, everything was way bigger or longer than in game. And way more uneven, holy shit, she nearly rolled her ankles three times directly after the bridge.
Lydia had to stop every so often to take a breather, a whistling pitch in her lungs growing louder steadily the longer she went. She really wished that she cut back on the pot smoking earlier. Joe the Khajiit didn't seem to mind the pauses at all, and rested alongside her. He talked little, as did she. Lydia's sword was in her hand the entire day, watching for threats, yet none came. Totally not because she didn't have a sheath. Not at all.
They stopped to lunch by the White river, perched upon an overhanging rock outcropping beside a waterfall. Joe was gleefully making passes at grabbing salmon and river trout that splashed by in the spray.
"Got one!" Joe exclaimed, holding up a decently sized salmon. It wriggled and fought in his grasp, but he had his claws through its mouth and gills. He dispatched it immediately after the presentation upon a large rock, then set about to gut and descale the creature.
"Very nice skills." Lydia comments, then contemplates their lack of fire for a moment, "Planning on eating that raw?" She queries, and he nods and smiles.
"Fish is no good to this Khajiit cooked and prepared. This one will shove veritable slabs of raw meat down their gullet."
"Saaaaaame, dude." Lydia agrees, then tries her own luck at catching one of the jumping fishes. She doesn't notice the perplexed expression on Joe's face as he processes her language. He….really doesn't get what she means. As he de-scales his fish, he contemplates what the meaning of the new word 'dude' is, and what the use of the word 'same' means in context.
It's not long until Lydia manages to grab her own salmon, albeit a bit smaller than the beauty that Joe had landed. She looks at her fish, uncertain, as she hadn't gone fishing in nearly 15 years. She had never prepared whole fish in the kitchen, either, to her shame. Please don't tell Anne Burrell. The fish had already been dispatched, and hung limply in her hands.
"Are you just going to stare at it?" Joe asked, as he was neatly filleting the sides off of his salmon.
"I….It's been so long since I've gone fishing myself, I've forgotten how to clean them." Lydia admits quietly, wistfully staring down at the cool fish, her mind momentarily transported back to Free Fishing day out at Miller pond with all her siblings. She remembers Micah pushing her into the pond, then her dragging him in by the ankle. Asa dragging both of them out of the water. She misses her brothers.
She is stirred from her reminiscing by Joe the Khajiit gently taking the fish from her hands, proceeding to gut and descale it as he did the last. He then filleted them with a smaller knife given by Alvor, handing the veritable slabs of meat to Lydia to hold whilst he worked. When his work was done, he washed his hands in the river, then returned and divvied up the meat. Lydia got a smaller portion, but she understood why; smaller catch, smaller person. She examined the beautiful meat, glistening in the sunlight, and wished she had a little bit of soy sauce.
The two of them eat in companionable silence, until Joe pipes up, "So, Lilija, what brings you to Skyrim? Other than an untimely altercation, of course." He corrected himself quickly from his blasé question. Lydia laughs in return, but it sounds hollow, and forced. Joe hoped he hadn't offended or upset her.
"I don't know, friend. If I told you, you wouldn't believe me." She replied.
"Try me." Joe replied, picking some meat from his teeth with a claw. Lydia briefly wonders if he has a cavity there or something. He keeps picking at that one tooth.
"I mean, take a look at me, dude." Lydia gestures to herself, tugging on her clothes and motioning to her backpack, ignoring the confused look she procured. "I don't exactly look like I'm from here, and I'm not," Her voice choked out a bit, and she took a shaky breath. "I was just taking a walk up in the woods, a-and, I saw some snow. I wanted to take some pictures-" She raised her hand when she saw Joe open his mouth for a question, "-don't even ask what that is, I'm not sure how I'd even explain it to you." Lydia's expression looked so, so tired, Joe clicked his jaw shut. She continued, "I wanted pictures, so I kept hiking. I was hiking for way longer than I should have to get to the line of my property. I think I hiked right through to another plane of existence."
"So… You are a plane-walking daedra?" Joe wagered his guess. It was not a good one based on the reaction he garnered. Lilija pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed deeply.
"No, I'm human, very much human. But in my world, there's a hell of a lot more technology, far surpassing what the Dwemer had here, and no other races exist. Just humans and animals. No magic either. I'm unsure of how I got here, and I'm really upset that I've been…" She pauses to search for a word, "...ripped away from my world." That was an understatement.
Joe sat there, staring at her with a dumbstruck expression. If she wasn't so annoyed Lydia would have found it cute, and very reminiscent of one of her old cats. He seems to process this information, eyes darting from her backpack, to her face, to her strange clothes, back to her face.
"…. this explains much of the strange things about you, but Jo'shak is unsure how this would come to be. Maybe an experienced mage could be of help? Alvor informed this one that Whiterun's court has one." Jo'shak offered, albeit a bit awkwardly. He was, of course, coming to terms with the fact that the very strange woman with the strange clothes and odd implements was from a different realm. He knew, of course, of the Daedric realms; hence why he assumed she was a Daedra at first. Maybe she is and she is rusing him well, but his heightened senses found no trace of lying in her body language.
"Maybe, I'm not sure if he'd be too much help. That is, unless he's an expert on inter-dimensional hopping." Lilija says this so deadpan that Jo'shak gets the impression that she knows exactly what she's talking about, and expects no one else around her to get it. He heard that tone many times from his extremely academic grandfather. Her tone also betrayed the emotions coursing through her; anguish, exhaustion, raw grief. It was hard to fake those, Jo'shak knew.
"It does no harm to see either way," Jo'shak asserted. His feelings on the matter be damned; she helped him out of Helgen, and he should at least try to help her in return. It was the very least he could do. He continued, "if we follow along this road, Alvor said we would reach Whiterun before tomorrow's sun goes down. We should travel until an hour before dusk, then start in the morning an hour after dawn. We should be there around noon, and we should be able to get an audience with the court mage, as we also have to report to the Jarl. Simple as this."
Lilija laughed, a mirthless, sad noise. "I wish it were so simple, friend. We will see what tomorrow brings."
Ugh. Her body felt like trash, and her head fared no better. They managed to build a suitable lean-to with pine boughs for bedding, and slept back to back with no fire. The provisions were seemingly produced from nowhere in the rucksack from Alvor, as the shape of the container never changed. Odd. It was cold and miserable through the night. Lydia barely slept when it was her turn.
Tomorrow brought rain and more misery for the traveling companions. Lydia complained several times about not packing an umbrella. Joe had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. She had put on some strange upper torso garment, the color a beautiful bright purple, which surprised him very much, that wicked the rain off like it was nothing. Joe the khajiit envied her, slightly, until he noticed it gave her no warmth. He was toasty, yet damp, in his many layers of fur and his pilfered armor, but she was shivering like a leaf.
Lydia asked to stop around mid morning. Her teeth were chattering so loud Jo'shak could hear them, so he agreed and they found a rocky overhang to shelter in for a time. They were both delighted to find that the alcove sloped up in the rear, and was bone dry. It was minutes before water stopped running off them in rivulets, downgrading to a fast drip. Lydia made a disgruntled noise as she removed her backpack, the densely packed item clanking in various tones as she set it down. Jo'shak regarded it curiously, then asked,
"Is that actually full of things?" His tone of voice betrayed amusement, and just a little judgment. Lydia looked up from opening her backpack with a confused expression. Joe continued, "not enchanted, I mean." Joe wished he could watch the complex range of emotions that flickered across Lilija's face over and over. It flickered from confusion to awe, then to annoyance, wonder, disgust, then finally excitement.
"Wait, you mean to tell me I can get bags of holding?" Lydia asked, her arm halfway down into her backpack. Jo'shak was unfamiliar with the term, but parsed it out anyhow and nodded,
"Indeed. This one had a beautiful enchanted bag. It belonged to Jo'shak's grandfather, and Jo'shak's father. It was a beautiful brilliant crimson, orange embroidery of wondrous patterns, with a purple pull cord with soul gem fragment beads woven into the ends." His voice was wistful as he stared out into the driving rain. "But this one shall cease talking of this. It makes him sad. However, it is apparent to this one that you were in fact telling the truth yesterday, as no one in all of Tamriel goes without their enchanted space."
"Wow, nice to know you had so much faith in me, Joe." Lilija scoffed as she rolled her eyes. The gesture was foreign and lost on Jo'shak, who wondered where her eyes went for a moment. "Sorry your bag got lost, though. Maybe after we deliver the news to Whiterun, we could go back to Helgen and find your things."
Jo'shak shook his head, and said, "The gesture is appreciated, yet it was before this one was captured that it was lost."
"Ah, I'm sorry." Lydia drew her hand out of her backpack, taking out her ziploc bag of GORP. Ah, good ol' raisins and peanuts. And some chocolate chips, too. She popped the seal open, grabbing some and shoveling it into her mouth. The red khajiit eyed it warily, obviously extremely perplexed by the transparent material containing the food. Lydia took this as hunger, and offered the food towards him, "Want some? It's just peanuts, and raisins, with chocolate. I'm not sure if you have these here."
Joe wordlessly held his hands out, cupped, and Lydia poured some out. He sniffed it tentatively, then began to eat it slowly. His expression turned from confused and wary to pleasure immediately. "Ooh, this is good. This one has no knowledge of these exotic items." He said, though through the mouthful, it sounded muffled. They ate through half of the bag before it was sealed and placed away again.
"Would you like me to carry your bag?" Joe asked, offering out his- admittedly smaller- backpack from Alvor. "You take this one, it is enchanted."
Lydia didn't need to be asked twice for a lighter load, and she gladly traded packs with him and gave thanks. As she shouldered the pack, she marveled at how the only weight she felt was from the material itself. She saw with her own two eyes that Alvor had stuffed it with supplies.
As Jo'shak shouldered Lilija's backpack, he grunted in exertion. The broad-shouldered Surhay-raht was used to plate armor feeling lighter than this. His underestimation of Lilija and her strength would have to to reassessed. He brushed his pawpads over the strange material of the straps. Alien in feeling, smooth, but no type of smoothness he had ever felt. He marveled at the new texture, feeling one of the tightly woven loose strap ends. The end looked melted, and he figured it was some sort of material he had never witnessed before. A surprise around every turn. His mother would tell him that he got what he wanted, leaving home for a caraveening life.
The pair reluctantly stepped out into the driving rain once more, but regretted it, leaving them wishing they had waited a little longer. The rain tapered off just as they were opening up into the wide plains of Whiterun. The sun, beating and burning its way through the clouds, cast beautiful beams of light down on the verdant fields and streams. Lilija stopped for a moment to observe the beauty of the land.
Jo'shak turned to her, and asked, "This one has been wondering. If you are not from this world, how did you turn invisible?" One eyebrow up, the other forced down. Hazel cats eyes scrutinizing her blue ones, but not in an unkind way. More of a young scholar trying to suss out a problem.
"Your guess is as good as mine, bud." Is all she replies, with a shrug, as she continues on the path. "I'm assuming some higher divine being is fucking with me, hard-core, and I really don't want to be a part of it. I just want to find out how to get home."
Joe seemed to accept this reply as the pair are silent again until mid afternoon, when they stop again for food. By then, both of them had dried out in the intensifying sunlight. It was much sunnier than Jo'shak had ever seen Whiterun hold, but he was not complaining.
"We should think about what to say to the guards, and the Jarl," Jo'shak started. "Whiterun hold is not the capitol, yet it is very powerful. Jarl Balgruuf is not a man to make angry."
Lilija nodded, then input, "I think it will be very easy. Just a feeling."
It was easy enough to get through the gates, if Jo'shak had any say on the situation. Of course, he was a Khajiit, and they were almost never let past the city walls. And almost always in those situations, it was to the headsman's block. He kept his thoughts to himself as he followed Lilija to the gates.
"Halt, state your business." The guard on the left gruffed out as he stepped forwards, hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Greetings, sir. We are two weary travelers, calling for aid to Riverwood. Helgen has been razed by a dragon." Lilija's voice flowed with an eloquence that was not demonstrated beforehand; Jo'shak schooled his surprised face back into a frown quickly.
The guard seems to be taken aback, then says, "The city has been closed due to dragon sightings, but we can make an exception…. For you." His helmeted head tilted down, then up. "We can't let that cat in the walls."
Lilija made a face as if she just tasted something bitter, paused for a moment to collect her thoughts, then murmured just loud enough for the guard to hear,
"If your Jarl heard you denying two messengers from a destroyed town in his Hold, would he be very happy? Because I'm not setting foot in that city without him." She jabbed over her shoulder with her thumb at Jo'shak, and he felt touched. Not many Men, or Mer, would ever stand up for the Khajiits. His belief in her being otherworldly was gaining much foundation.
The guard seemed to waffle about for a moment, taken aback at her words, then grumbled. "If he needs to go in, fine, but it's your bounty too if he steals anything." He stepped back, then motioned to the gatesman above to open the great Oak entry.
Lydia pathed her way through the semi-familiar steps, glancing disgruntledly at shop signs she recognized images from yet could read no text. It swam before her eyes, the longer she stared the worse a headache pounded in her eye sockets. She gave up shortly thereafter. Joe tagged along close behind and to the left, so his fighting hand was free, his large and imposing figure cutting a very bodyguard-like silhouette for the little outworlder.
Jo'shak watched and followed in wonder as the shorter woman led the way through Whiterun like she knew it already; she very well could have, from her own world. It was a wonder he made it inside the walls anyhow; he kept an eye on Lilija, but each time she paused for breath, his head was on a swivel. It seemed smaller from the outside, for sure. There was so much to take in, the people, the shops, the smells. Not the cleanest place, or the nicest to the khajiit's sensitive nose.
Soon enough, the pair were trekking past the wilted Gildergreen, both of the travelers glancing up at the dying tree with sorrow. They paused a moment, again for breath on Lydia's part. Not for the first time, Lydia wished Whiterun had less steps, and voiced this. Joe agreed. The companions glanced at each other, then began to ascend the stone stairs.
(Please leave a comment, any suggestions on the story, critiques, anything you'd like! Thanks for reading!)