Soul Copy

by Romantic_Khajiit

Summary:

Another Skyrim story... what if character creation was actually... character creation?
A twist on the “modern girl in Skyrim” idea.

Alternate title: “I'm Not Real.”

 

An idea that mostly came from a trippy dream not long after starting and then not having time to finish yet another Skyrim play-through, and partly from a discarded idea for one of my other works.

 

This is fanfiction, meaning some setting and plot elements are not original to me.
Marked mature just to be safe; there will be graphic descriptions of canon-typical violence, self-loathing dark thoughts, and potentially other mature themes later on.

Chapter 1: Character Creation

"No, come on, this is your version of the Skyrim story, we should make the character look like you!"

"I'm trying to make her pretty though!"

"And if she looks like you she will be!"

"Ha... sure. There, I gave her red hair, happy?"

"That face still looks nothing like you."

"That's because none of these options look like me."

"That's because you'd be a Nord."

"But I like playing Imperials for the extra-gold-finding-perk-thing!"

"But that's not you! You're a green-eyed red-headed, freckled, beautiful Nord!"

"Fine. You make the character, I'll play her."

 

Cait got up and watched in feigned exasperation as her husband took over her character creation for his Twitch stream. Her husband, Aiden, had been streaming various video games for a few years now— not enough to actually make any money doing it, but enough to have a moderately sized following. Cait usually just helped moderate his chat for him. Recently a question about favorite games had come up in one of his chats, and she had admitted that after all these years, Skyrim was still her favorite.

From there one suggestion had led to another, and eventually it was agreed that she needed to do another play-through of Skyrim for his stream. She was going to show Aiden's viewers, some of whom were actually too young to have played Skyrim back when it came out, all of her favorite quest-lines, and tell her own version of the story. Of course, she'd made sure to warn them that there were endless different ways the story of Skyrim could go— that was what made it one of her favorites— she could tell a new story every time she delved in.

 

 

•

Since it was for his stream, she and Aiden had spent the last few days discussing and contemplating what she would do with this play-through... which factions she would join...

She never did like doing everything with one character... even though it was mostly possible in the game mechanics, some factions really didn't go well together lore-wise in her opinion.

She could probably do the Thieves' Guild, it made for a good story for most of it, but Cait always got bored and didn't bother with the ‘bringing the guild back to its former glory’ part at the end. She could easily weave that into a story of a character who turned from her thieving ways and then headed off to join the Companions...

Or maybe she could head up to the Mages' College before going to the Companions... despite having less story than the Thieves' Guild, the Companions and the College of Winterhold were her top favorites. She liked ending with the Companions after everything was all said and done.

She knew it was an unpopular opinion, but she didn't care for the Dark Brotherhood. She actually usually either avoided them, or took the path of destroying them. She hoped that wouldn't make viewers angry, but Aiden had assured her not to worry about that.

 

Aiden was more interested than Cait had expected him to be over which NPC Cait would pick for her character to marry this time. Cait had actually laughed at that...

 

"Let's see," she'd said, "if this character is supposed to be me, than her husband is supposed to be you..."

"Ok, which Skyrim NPC is most like me?" Aiden asked skeptically.

"Well... we need a tall bulky Irishmen with dark hair and blue eyes..."

"I'm not that bulky," Aiden rolled his eyes.

"You're twice my weight," Cait shot back in amusement, "and I'm not exactly small."

"So, I was still one of the smaller guys on the team back in college!"

"Being one of the smaller guys on a rugby team does not make you small!" Cait laughed.

"Fair point," Aiden conceded, looking a little annoyed.

"Actually," Cait smirked thoughtfully, "I think I'll go back to the first Skyrim husband I picked back in high school."

"Alright, who was that?" Aiden asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You'll just have to see," she smiled teasingly, "but I'll give you a hint... I picked him because he reminded me of you."

Aiden's brow furrowed at that. "In high school?"

"Yep," Cait smirked.

"I was a jerk in high school," he said uncertainly.

"Mmhmm," Cait nodded, "to everyone who didn't know and understand you at least."

"Which was literally everyone but you..."

"I know," Cait laughed, "which was why we were friends."

"Yeah but... ok," Aiden shook his head, running his hand across his forehead.

Cait just giggled at him. She couldn't wait to get started on a new run of Skyrim, it had been way too long.

 

 

•

"Alright, I think that's good," Aiden said at last. Cait looked up at the screen to see a Nord woman with the reddest hair the character selections had, and fairly typical facial features... the sharp nose option that made Cait think somehow of Vikings was scaled down and moved so it actually looked a little dainty... her lips were full and pink but a little small, and her complexion wasn't quite as pale as a Nord's could be, but only one or two options darker, with freckles across her cheeks... of course he'd picked the greenest option for eyes as well, and the red hair was all up in a single braid.

"That is... probably as close to me as we're going to get with Skyrim character creation," Cait agreed, only a little begrudgingly. She was actually impressed Aiden had managed to finagle the facial features as much as he had without making the character look alien or disproportionate.

"Great," Aiden grinned and began typing in the name...

...Caitlyn...

"Hold on, you can't give her my actual name," Cait complained, "and how the heck can you not spell my name by now? It's got an H and two Ns!"

"I know! That was half the point, I was spelling it more normally," Aiden replied.

Cait rolled her eyes. "Just... name her... Lynn or something I don't go by!"

"You don't go by Caitlyn," Aiden retorted, "or Caithlynn either for that matter," he added, intentionally mispronouncing her name like most of her teachers back in school had when first reading her name from a roster.

"That's not the point," Cait grumbled.

"Alright, Lynn it is," Aiden chuckled, deleting the first half of the name he'd typed and adding the extra 'n.'

"Thanks," Cait said, only mildly exasperated now.

Aiden chuckled as he got out of the computer chair so Cait could sit back down.

"Alright babe," he smirked, giving her a quick kiss before stepping back, "go have fun and kill some dragons."

"That's the plan," Cait smiled and hit 'enter' to save her new character.

Chapter 2: Just Lynn

A hard wooden seat... jostling uncomfortably... itchy ragged trousers and tunic... wrists bound by thick ropes...

Warm bodies... smell of sweat... warm gentle breezes... 

 

The redheaded woman blinked her eyes briefly open to see bright sunlight filtering through evergreen trees. She closed her eyes again...

She could see a redheaded woman sitting in front of her with a tall man with dark brown hair standing beside her. They were happy... talking and laughing...

That was right, the woman remembered, that was her... and her husband... they were playing her favorite game...

She could remember clearly now... her name was Caithlynn Rielly, and that was her husband, Aiden... they lived in a small town in Tennessee and she was a middle school teacher and Aiden was a high school teacher and football coach... and they were both enjoying their summer break...

 

"Welcome, new soul," a deep, ancient sounding voice spoke suddenly, "to the realms of my pantheon."

"What?" The woman asked in confusion.

"You are a new soul, created special for my realm, destined for great things in Skyrim," the voice told her.

The woman opened her eyes again, seeing the surrounding landscape more clearly this time... it was familiar, but at the same time strange...

She was barefoot, and her hands were bound... her clothes were rough and tattered, and she was jostling about on the back of a horse drawn wagon... she was a prisoner, bound along side other prisoners...

She quickly closed her eyes again, as if doing so would transport her back to her comfortable home with her husband...

"I can't be actually in Skyrim," she mentally told the mystery voice, "I have a life and a husband to get back to!"

"No..." the voice replied gently, with a hint of apology in his tone, "you are not the woman you remember, you are a new being. Made specially for my realm, destined for greatness. Your memories and knowledge are all from the woman who's soul you were made from. You are not her," the deep voice elaborated gently, "not any longer at least."

The woman blinked in confused dismay...

She... wasn't Caithlynn Rielly?

That couldn't be right... she'd always been Caithlynn Rielly— or at least she'd always been Caithlynn, she'd been Caithlynn Fitzpatrick before marrying her best friend about three years ago, but still...

She remembered it all... her husband, their wedding, college and her schooling before that, her childhood, her parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins... her students, her principal and assistant principal... her dog...

How could she be anyone but Caithlynn Reilly? 

"What... what happened to her? To the real Caithlynn?" The woman asked in distress. 

"Nothing," the voice replied, "rest assured, Caithlynn Reilly will continue to live her life in the primary realm, as happily as you remember. You being copied from her has not impacted her in any way."

The woman blinked in confusion again as this information began to sink in...

"I'm... a copy?" She asked uncomfortably.

"You are," the voice answered, "a copy of a soul, given a body stronger and with more potential than the body you remember."

"So... I... I'm not real..." she realized.

"You're every bit as real as everything else in my realm," the voice corrected her firmly, "and you shall have a destiny far greater than your humble beginnings."

 

The wagon jostled harder then and the woman found herself jarred more fully awake. Her hands were still tied, and she was still sitting on an uncomfortable wooden bench seat being pulled by a horse. There were more wagons in front of the one she was on, and armed men in red leather armor riding horses in front of and behind the wagons. And, to her discomfort, she recognized everything from her copied memories…

 

"You, you're finally awake," the man across the wagon noticed.

The woman looked at him with a start... he was a large man in chainmail and leather armor with blue accents... a bit bulky in build... a little like Aiden, except that he was blonde... 

He continued talking, but the woman wasn't listening. She suddenly felt a pit forming in her stomach— if she wasn't the real Caithlynn— wasn't Cait, Aiden wasn't her husband— wasn't her best friend... if she wasn't Cait, Aiden wouldn't be with her... all of her copied memories of the grumpy teenage boy she'd befriended at church camp began to feel like a painful weight in her chest.

Would she ever see him again?

Would she at least be able to know if the real Caithlynn ever achieved all those goals she had set for herself? Would she finish her master's degree? Would she and Aiden have kids in another two years like they'd planned? Would they ever actually buy or build that vacation home up in the Smoky Mountains like they'd talked about? Would they ever take that anniversary trip back to Ireland to see all the things they'd missed on their honeymoon?

 

She felt tears welling in her eyes as the man Cait's memories told her was Ralof continued talking. The horse thief chimed in and Ralof snapped something about Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king of Skyrim. The large man beside her simply hung his head in defeat and the woman was inclined to agree with him.

She felt a cold sense of apathy settling in as she realized she knew exactly where she was and what was going on... all from Cait's memories... and from those memories she knew she could assume she would turn out to be the Dragonborn... which meant she was going to have to figure out how to save Skyrim. 

The wagon continued on down the road and when the woman closed her eyes again she could almost see the image of Cait standing beside Aiden while he sat in front of her now… his face illuminated from the other side of the computer screen.

The wagon pulled into Helgen and in her mind she could see the two of them smiling at each other... Aiden got up so Cait could sit down just as the prisoners began to be herded off the wagons.

She distantly heard Aiden chuckle happily. "Alright babe," he said warmly, giving her a quick kiss before stepping back, "go have fun and kill some dragons." His voice faded out of her mind as the Imperial soldier she knew was Hadvar looked to her.

"Who… are you?" He asked in confusion.

"Lynn," the woman replied feeling hollow, "just Lynn."

Chapter 3: Helgen

Lynn just hung her head as the executions began. She couldn't even bring herself to be concerned when she was shoved forward to the block. Being shoved to her knees at the headsman's feet was uncomfortable... and the block where the last prisoner had just been beheaded was covered in blood and thoroughly sickening to be shoved onto.

But Lynn knew the headsman's axe wouldn't fall... not on her at least.

She craned her neck uncomfortably so she could watch the sky, mostly to avoid having to look at the head of the last prisoner they hadn't had the decency to move before shoving her into the block.

She saw the black silhouette of Alduin flying slowly closer long before anyone else noticed him. And she at least tried not to react when he landed suddenly and heavily on the tower above her, but the thundering sound along with the ground shaking startled her anyway.

She wanted to remain calm and unconcerned... she wasn't real, she shouldn't worry about what was happening to her... but her new body was instinctively afraid.

Alduin's shout that brought flaming meteors raining from the sky was far more terrifying than the real Caithlynn's memories had prepared her for, and the hot embers that spiraled through the air with each impact of a massive bolder and burned when they landed on her skin made her quickly forget about not being real. Regardless of where she'd come from, she was alive enough now that pain was certainly very real.

Fortunately, her new body seemed to be strong enough to run and she sprinted into a tower with the other retreating prisoners.

 

 

From there Helgen was a nightmare of déjà vu. Lynn had her accursed copied memories that felt like the whole horrible ordeal was dull, redundant, and boring, and yet she was living through it for real now in sheer horror.

There was nothing dull or mundane about the fall of an entire city... it was horrible. The real Caithlynn— or Cait, Lynn recalled, had never had to live through such horrors... never had to run through a burning city, smelling charred flesh as people's dying screams filled the air... never had to hurriedly pull leather and chainmail armor off of a dead man who hadn't bathed in a month... never had to strip down to her underwear in front of random strangers to put on scavenged armor... never had to fight for her life and kill or be killed…

…and never had to suffer the survivor's guilt that Lynn felt when she and Ralof finally made it out of the tunnels under the keep...

It wasn't fair... wasn't right...

She was just a copied soul— not even a real person. Why was she still alive when so many others so suddenly weren't? She hadn't even wanted to fight the imperial soldiers but her new body seemed to have the muscle memory made for wielding a sword. It had felt like she had no choice. As much as her conscience mind didn't want to care and live, her body didn't want to die... so she fought, and she survived... and she was angry about it.

The first time she cast a spell had been almost like a reflex as well... she was angry that she had to fight and she was beginning to be just as angry at the imperial soldiers who were stupid enough to keep trying to fight the Stormcloaks while an actual damned dragon sacked the city around them, and she was angry they'd apparently decided she was a Stormcloak too.
There were two soldiers coming for her, and a third standing a ways back with a bow, and all Lynn had was the sword she'd taken from the imperial officer and the shabby axe she'd gotten from Ralof's fallen comrade. She'd dropped the axe and let her fury flow in the form of flames from her left hand while keeping the sword in her right. She was morbidly satisfied when the flames lit the oil that had fallen from a broken lantern over head and incinerated everyone stupid enough to be standing too close.

She also discovered her new body wasn't made for sneaking, but she wasn't sure it was made for archery either. Fortunately, the bear that had been napping between them and the exit must have been old and on the brink of death anyway, because Lynn managed to kill it with only a single shot from Ralof's long bow.

She decided she was going to take the time to skin it and at least would be able to hopefully do something useful with the leather.

 

When Ralof suggested they split up she didn't bother arguing or trying to keep up with him. She knew she'd eventually run into him again in Riverwood, and likely be able to get supplies from his sister. She walked slowly down the road, contemplating what she should do, occasionally swinging her sword at nothing just to practice the movements...

That made her remember the flame spell she cast and she made a conscious effort to cast it again, paying attention to how she did it... the heat welled up from the palm of her hand easily, and with a flick of her wrist she could launch the flames forward a short distance. It was tiring to maintain for more than a few minutes though. She contemplated if there were any other spells she could cast... flames had come so naturally...

She stopped and pulled out the hood she'd pulled off the poor dead mage in the torturer's chamber... she'd been afraid it would smell like death, but she was noticing the enchantment on the thing seemed to keep it from picking up dirt and filth... still, after a quick sniff, she wasn't keen on wearing it without at least attempting to wash it first...

After a brief inspection Lynn put the hood back in her pocket and kept walking.

What else were Nords supposed to be able to cast? Healing probably... she considered that... it should be a golden light... right? How was she supposed to activate it?

She held out her left hand again like she had with the flames, but tried to will healing power to rise from her palm instead... focusing on the idea of restoring health... there was a brief flash of gold, but it fizzled quickly. She wasn't sure if she'd done something wrong or if she simply didn't have enough magic to cast it. She was still feeling oddly fatigued.

Lynn sighed irritably and meandered off the road and through the underbrush a little, turning her attention instead to thinking on what exactly she should actually do next...

Cait had had some ideas... plans for what her life was supposed to look like, Lynn recalled... the Thieves' Guild first...

So Lynn decided that was exactly what she was not going to do.

She was a Nord, swinging a sword came naturally, and although she could cast some magic it quickly exhausted her and apparently didn't recover quickly. She'd try her luck with the Companions, she decided as she slid down the hill instead of following the winding road to the Guardian Stones.

She felt a pull again, an instinctive reflex pulling her toward either the thief stone or the mage stone... and so she turned stubbornly instead to the warrior stone.

Chapter 4: Riverwood

Lynn couldn't bring herself to tell Gerdur that a detachment of guards from Whiterun wasn't going to be able do anything to keep Riverwood safe if a dragon truly decided to attack the city. Cait's memories told her Alduin wouldn't bother sacking any more cities for at least a while, and she figured having someone go to Whiterun for them would help the people of Riverwood all sleep better. Guards actually might help some against a lesser dragon at least.

 

Lynn had made it to Riverwood a little while after Ralof did. There had been a pair of wolves that attacked her on the road and she took the time to sit and skin them once she'd run them both through. Cait loved dogs, and always hated that game mechanic, but seeing the vicious things in person, Lynn had had no qualms about killing them. She was fairly certain they were rabid.

 

Ralof had been happy to see her and waved her over to meet his sister, Gerdur. Gerdur was clearly shaken up by Ralof's story of a real, live dragon, especially when Lynn confirmed it.

Lynn was just glad that when she agreed to go on to Whiterun on their behalf that Gerdur had offered to provide her with supplies in exchange. She was especially happy to see said supplies included food and drink.

Lynn gratefully accepted Gerder's small enchanted pack of supplies and started with the apple she found inside as she walked down to the blacksmith.

She'd been hoping to change out of the Stormcloak armor that smelled so strongly of a now dead man's sweat and blood, and the way the blacksmith scowled at the blue leather and chainmail cuirass made her even more wary of going anywhere else before getting new armor.

"I'm no Stormcloak," she told him quickly as she walked up, "I got these off a dead man because they were better than nothing," she explained, figuring Alvor's dislike of the Stormcloaks would make that a safe thing to admit. "Please tell me you might have something for sale I could replace them with," she added hopefully.

Alvor's scowl softened and he gave a light chuckle at that but still looked a little suspicious. "Take a look," he nodded, motioning to a low table along the wall...

There were multiple armor chest pieces sitting out in a line, and arm bracers and boots on the shelf underneath.

After a little perusing and questioning, Lynn settled on an iron chest piece that was shaped for a woman. She'd have preferred one of his steel sets, but those were currently out of her price range, even after she'd sold him the pelts and various other random weapons she'd collected in her escape.

She bought a pair of boots as well, thanked Alvor for his time, and then meandered down to the river behind the forge. She followed the river around a few bends until the trees provided some relative privacy from the small village and then sat down on the bank. It was only just midday and the sun was warm. Lynn looked up at the sky and tried not to wonder what Aiden and Cait were doing now... what Aiden would say or do if he were there...

She shook her head, blinking back tears again and began pulling off her stinking Stormcloak armor. She didn't have anything particularly against the Stormcloaks... Cait would alternate which faction she sided with in the war almost every other play-through, so Lynn had no idea how to feel about either side... but she very distinctly wanted out the smell of sweat and death.

She looked around again to make sure she was properly alone before pulling off her small clothes and jumping into the river. The water was cold, but it was a refreshing cold and Lynn found herself feeling suddenly better as she swam for a moment. She wished she had some soap, but at least she could scrub the blood, sweat and ash off. She unbraided her hair and found it actually hung just past her breasts when it was down... her hair was a coppery red that glinted a little in the sunlight... not quite the same color as Cait's, she found herself thinking...

Lynn was also fairly certain she was a little thinner and more fit than Cait had ever been... her breasts and hips seemed to be the same size that her copied memories recalled, but her thighs and arms were more firm and toned... not that Cait was flabby, just... not as toned as Lynn.

Lynn supposed that made sense though... Cait was a real woman, Lynn was not— she had a body created just to be the Dragonborn. It made sense that her body was strong and fit... near flawless actually...

 

Lynn would have expected the realization that she had such a nice body now would make her feel better, but it didn't— it just reminded her that she wasn't real.

But then a small fish suddenly nipped at her toe before swimming skittishly away, and Lynn's attention was pulled back to the real way her new body felt and reacted to things. She couldn't bring herself to fall back into the apathy she'd felt before the fall of Helgen, because real or not, she seemed to be very much alive now, with a body that was acutely aware of at least pain.

With a deep sigh, Lynn swam back to the bank and grabbed her small clothes. She doused the bra in the water and scrubbed the fabric against itself under the water until the clouds of dirt and grime quit coming out of it. Then she set it out on a rock in the sun to dry and did the same with the panties. If she was stuck with this life now, she could at least try to be comfortable. 
Once her underwear was as clean as she could get it and sitting out to dry, Lynn set about washing the magic hood she'd found, and then the gloves she'd gotten off the dead man.

She'd want to replace the gloves as soon as she had the coin to do so as well, but for now, if she could get them clean at least, they were better than nothing.

Once the hood and gloves were sitting out to dry as well, Lynn turned her attention back to rebraiding her hair... which got... a little surreal...

Cait could never French braid her own hair, but Lynn's new body seemed to have the muscle memory for it. So floating weightlessly in the water, it was easy, and she relatively quickly had her whole mop of thick ginger hair wrangled all into one neat braid again.

Lynn also realized, as she got out of the water and sat on another sun-warmed rock to dry, she was significantly more comfortable in her own skin than Cait had ever been. She actually felt at ease, sitting out naked beside the stream, eating the bread and cheese from the pack Gerdur had given her, and just enjoying the sun while she waited for her clothes to dry. She wondered if that was because she just didn't care or if the new body had actually made her more confident...

She was halfway through the loaf of bread and the wheel of cheese when a sudden rustle in the trees across the river made her suddenly rethink how confident she was feeling though. She looked with a start to where the sound had come from... it had sounded like a footstep snapping a small twig, and she swore she saw a figure moving in the corner of her eye, but when she looked, Lynn saw only the shadows of the trees... it was still enough to make her decide her small clothes were dry enough to get dressed and move on though.

Chapter 5: Whiterun

Lynn was only a little surprised that her new body seemed to also have the muscle memory for heavy armor. The weight of the iron chest plate over the padded leather that it strapped on over was like the comfort of her favorite weighted blanket from when she was a child— or rather, Cait's favorite weighted blanket, Lynn grumpily corrected herself. But either way, the armor was reassuringly comfortable. She was sure she'd tire quickly if she had to do too much sprinting, but that just felt like something she'd have to work towards.

She finished getting dressed, feeling glad she'd opted to buy new boots because they were dry  and comfortable when she pulled them on— much better than the awkward sized fur shoes she'd gotten from Ralof's dead comrade.

She also pulled the mage's hood over her head, pulling her braid to one side as she tucked it in around the neck of her armor. Now that it smelled like river water instead of dead man, Lynn felt much better about it.

The gloves were still a little damp, but that just prompted Lynn to experiment with her flame spell again... she was pleased to find the gloves dried the rest of the way without catching fire, and the hood did actually seem to help the magic not exhaust her as quickly as it had that morning.

Finally, Lynn situated her new belongings and headed back around the bends in the river so she could take the road from Riverwood.

She briefly considered just stopping and renting a room at the inn in Riverwood, but it was only a few hours after midday by then, and she surprisingly wasn't that tired. Besides that, she was pretty sure she had enough coin for a room, but not also for food.

 

She set off up the road over the bridge and continued on. There was a signpost by the fork in the road and Lynn took the road toward Whiterun, pausing briefly to look up at the towering ruin in the opposite direction up the hill. She had a hunch she'd be back and heading up there sooner rather than later.

 

 

The walk from Riverwood to Whiterun took about twice as long as Cait's memories had Lynn expecting it to. By the time she saw the city of Whiterun coming into view the sun was low on the horizon and she was regretting the decision to not stay the night in Riverwood.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she registered that Cait would have marveled at the beauty of the planes of Whiterun, shimmering in the gold light of the setting sun, but Lynn was a bit too tired and grumpy to care. She continued on down the road, feeling like the weight of her armor was a little less of a comfort after walking for two hours in it.

She heard the sounds of a fight before she saw what was going on... an angry Nord's battle yell, followed by the angry stomping of a giant... then she saw it, a ways down the road, just past one of the small farms, three fighters skirting around the feet of an irate giant that towered over them, trying to smash everything in its path.

It only took Lynn a moment to recognize the fighters from Cait's memories. The large, hulking man with long brown hair and steel armor, swinging a great sword with furious Nordic battle yells was Farkas— Cait thought him attractive but dim-witted. The smaller woman with black hair, lighter armor, and a shield and sword, who looked a little more timid that the other two was Ria— Cait thought she was friendly but naive. And the redheaded woman who was scantily clad in heavy metal plates and furs with green paint across her face, lining up a shot with her hunting bow, was Aela— Cait thought she was a bit... well, not quite feral, but close. 

 

Lynn was just thinking she should possibly help them with the giant, beginning to quicken her pace and preparing to draw her sword when Aela shot the giant in the face. Farkas quickly jumped back as the giant fell dead, smashing several of the farmer's crops. Lynn supposed she should have been quicker if she'd wanted to help...

She sighed, feeling the unpleasant sense of déjà vu again. She wasn't surprised when Aela looked up at her approaching and scoffed.

"Well, that's taken care of," she said, sounding something between tired and prideful. "No thanks to you," she added with a more pointed scowl at Lynn.

Lynn rolled her eyes. "You didn't look like you needed help," she replied flatly.

"Certainly not," Aela agreed haughtily, "but a true warrior would have relished the opportunity to take on a giant."

From the corner of her eye Lynn saw Ria smirking proudly at that, and Farkas was just looking skeptically and rather unimpressed in Lynn's general direction.

Lynn sighed irritably and shook her head. "Unless said warrior is tired from dealing with a dragon this morning," she grumbled.

Farkas cocked his head in confusion at that but Aela laughed.

"Good one," she replied in amusement, "but a word of advice; save the ridiculous tales for that silly bards' college up in Solitude, they'll go over better there."

"I'll keep that in mind," Lynn grumbled as she continued on past them.

She supposed that meant that the news of Helgen hadn't spread this far yet. Lynn figured that shouldn't be surprising, it had hardly been a day, and there hadn't been many survivors. She hoped Aela would feel embarrassed by that comment when the news did finally reach the Companions though.

 

And then she was surprised to find the news of dragons had apparently spread to the guards though... she had to tell them she was on official business from Riverwood before they'd let her into the massive city gates. As the guard agreed to let her in, Lynn noticed curiously that he specifically reached up and touched a softly glowing glyph near the bottom of his helmet's face mask as he spoke... and the guard above the gates who operated the levers that would allow the gates to either be opened or locked appeared to hear him with no trouble, despite be several yards above them... she also noticed, once she passed through the large gates and began making her way up the cobblestone streets, every guard she passed seemed to be watching her intently. Lynn tried to stay calm as she meandered through the crowds of Whiterun's citizens who were all making their ways either home from work or off somewhere to get dinner, but her heart was beginning to race something like what Cait would call a panic attack. 

She should have no reason to panic here, she tried to tell herself... this was Whiterun... not Helgen... the guards were just watching her... they had no idea she'd been on the prison cart bound for execution that morning... everything should be fine...

 

But Lynn struggled to maintain her composure as she walked through Whiterun's busy streets. She quickly realized the watching guards were not the main thing making her uncomfortable. When she'd first stepped in the gates she'd tried to tell herself that her steadily increasing pulse was just because of the guards, but only a little ways in she was realizing it was a combination of things...

The guards, but also the city walls and cobblestone streets along with the smell of smoke from the blacksmith's forge... it was all too reminiscent of Helgen that morning.

She kept expecting Alduin's thundering shout to begin raining fiery boulders from the sky at any moment and for the loud clamor of talking people to change to screaming.

It was too loud, and the hammer of the blacksmith at her forge— still working despite the late hour, was just making Lynn feel more anxious. She tried to take a slow deep breath, but that just made the smell of smoke more noticeable.

She hated this.

Lynn suddenly didn't care how tired she was, she had to go. She took off at a run and sprinted through the streets. She had a vague idea where she was going, but most importantly, she was going away from smells of fire and smoke.

She took the stairs two at a time, running up toward the large dead tree in the center of town. She almost tripped into the aqueduct that ran around it, and then nearly ran into a man in fine clothes.

"Watch where you're going," the man sneered irritably as Lynn stumbled past him and instead and then crashed into the tree.

"Be careful!" A woman in brown and yellow robes yelled. "This poor tree has had a hard enough time! Are you alright?" She asked, her question coming out in a slightly gentler voice than her initial yelling.

Lynn took a deep breath, leaning against the large tree as she caught her breath.

Maybe it was that the impact of hitting the tree had snapped her out of it, or maybe the power of whatever divine was associated with that tree was actually helping her calm down, but whatever the case, leaning against the huge tree seemed to be helping.

"Yeah," Lynn breathed after a moment, "sorry it's... been a rough day," she shook her head, "I'm ok."

"Well, as long as you're alright now," the priestess nodded. "Grace of Kynareth be with you," she added with a kind smile before continuing on her way.

"Thanks," Lynn mumbled.

She was pretty sure that had been Danica, but she honestly hadn't paid enough attention to be sure. She hadn't even seen the face of the man she nearly ran into... his voice reminded her of someone she didn't like though.

Lynn took a few more moments leaning against the large tree and calming down... closing her eyes with a hand against the bark of the tree, picturing that she was in the forests near Riverwood... Alduin was flying away... she was safe for now. She needed to relax and go tell the Jarl what happened before it got much later.

She looked up at the bare branches of the tree and suddenly felt a bit sad that such a large tree looked so dead... she could tell it was still alive somewhere deep inside— she had no idea how she could tell that, she just could. Hopefully she'd eventually be able to fix it like Cait's memories seemed to believe she could...

Lynn shook her head again. She wasn't fixing anything until she got some proper rest and food, she reminded herself.

 

She finally gathered her wits and continued on up more sets of stairs, up to the towering palace of Dragonsreach. The guards continued watching her intently, but didn't stop her.

She had to force herself to think of happy campfires and cozy hearths as she walked past the large, brightly burning hearth fire... focusing on the fact that it was all wood-smoke, pleasant and intentional... just firewood, no bodies...

 

•

 

She got through the conversation with Jarl Balgruuf somehow...

His housecarl apparently hadn't gotten the same memo about letting her in that all the guards had, and she'd had to explain herself. 

But Lynn was especially frustrated that while the Jarl had thanked her for coming to him and acknowledged that she'd done them a service by letting him know, instead of offering her any place to stay the night or get food, he gave her a sad set of light armor as a reward, and then shunted her off to his court wizard with another thing she could do for them. Lynn thought it was extremely presumptuous of him to assume she was able or interested in running back off to Riverwood to go delving into an old Nordic crypt for him, when she hadn't had so much as a night of sleep or complete meal after escaping a damned dragon attack.

Lynn figured they could wait. Cait's memories made her fairly certain she could rent a room at the inn for about ten gold. She'd just have to see if the inn keeper really would let her chop firewood for some coin and she could buy herself some dinner too.

Notes:

Also, since someone’s already called it in the comments, I changed the relationship tags from “undisclosed” to my actual, intended plan. Be warned she’s going to take time coming around to that though 😉

Chapter 6: The Bannered Mare

Notes:

Just a note to avoid potential confusion, this chapter was posted the same day as the one before it.

The Bannered Mare was more comfortable than Lynn had expected it to be, and Hulda confirmed that she'd be happy to pay her for chopping fire wood. So Lynn spent her last ten gold on a room for the night and then went back outside to chop firewood. She wasn't sure how much Hulda would pay for each log so she chopped wood until she didn't think she could lift the axe again. She probably should have changed out of her heavy iron armor first, but she hadn't wanted to get the only other clothing she had all sweaty. She had to pause and take several moments to catch her breath before she began to haul the logs inside, and then took four trips to do it.

She was surprised Hulda paid five gold a log... she'd been only expecting one per... the twenty three split logs she'd just hauled in suddenly got her feeling much better about her coin purse than she'd expected them to...

She very happily sat up at the bar and ordered herself a bowl of whatever stew they had cooking. It was either beef or venison, but Lynn didn't care which, it smelled delicious, and it tasted better than it smelled. She thought about buying a drink, but she was pretty sure she still had at least one bottle of mead in the bag Gerdur had given her so she decided not to bother. She could drink it once she was in her room for the night.

 

 

She was just picking up her bowl to drink the last of the thick broth from the bottom when a stocky woman in steel-plate armor ambled past, bumping into Lynn's shoulder with a loud clank as she did. It was clearly a careless accident, but it jostled Lynn's bowl and nearly made her waste the last of her stew.

"Watch it!" She snapped grumpily turning to glare at the other woman.

"You watch it, soft-gut," the woman scowled back. She had dark blond hair and a sour expression on her face, the entire rest of her was covered in steel armor that didn't look dirty enough to have actually seen much action. "You're not woman enough to be getting in my way."

Lynn felt her face heating angrily. After the day she'd had she was not going to be talked down to by a woman who thought being covered in shiny armor made her tough...

"Bitch, you don't even know who I am," she snapped back.

"No, and I don't care," the sour-faced, steel-plated woman replied haughtily, "I can take anyone in this sorry city bare-handed!"

"Maybe you could, but I'm new," Lynn retorted challengingly getting to her feet.

"Ha!" The woman laughed, "a hundred gold says I knock your hide to the ground!" She pulled out a coin purse and slammed it on the bar.

Hulda sighed and moved Lynn's bowl out of the way while Lynn angrily considered her coin purse... she could take that bet... if she lost she'd be down to only about seven gold again, but if she won she'd be able to go buy some better arm bracers at least...

"You're on," Lynn agreed, dropping her purse beside the other woman's.

"Just don't break anymore chairs or tables, Uthgerd," Hulda said tiredly.

Uthgerd threw a cocky grin of assurance in Hulda's direction before sneering back at Lynn. "Just fists, no weapons, no magic... no crying," she said, menacingly as she backed into a more open section of the tavern away from the bar and got into a fighting stance. "Let's go!"

Lynn followed, getting into her own fighting stance... she hoped her body had the same convenient muscle-memory for a fistfight that it did for a sword fight... holding her fists at the ready and generally in a position to block her face felt natural enough...

Uthgerd threw the first punch, and Lynn mostly blocked it, smacking her wrist against Uthgerd's steel arm bracers, making Uthgerd's armored fist graze across Lynn's cheek.

The steel gauntlet felt like it cut Lynn's cheek, and she could tell the steel armor definitely gave Uthgerd the advantage. If she lost Lynn knew she could accuse Uthgerd of fighting dirty, but she didn't think she'd lose... fighting felt natural... 

She followed up with a punch of her own, straight into Uthgerd's face. The woman reeled but and came quickly swinging back with a sloppy haymaker. Lynn ducked under it and threw another punch to the other side of Uthgerd's face.

They traded several more blows, Lynn managing to avoid taking most of them directly, while Uthgerd seemed to just think she could take all of her punches, which was beginning to work in Lynn's favor. Uthgerd got sloppier with each swing, and Lynn finally got the opportunity to plant her back foot and swing in with all her strength, throwing a solid punch, straight into Uthgerd's nose. She felt a crunch as her fist impacted, and Uthgerd went stumbling backwards, dropping to a knee as blood poured from her nose.

Hulda sighed a little exasperatedly behind them as she called for Saadia to bring the mop bucket.

Lynn stood down, pretending not to notice that she had a bloody lip along with what was probably turning into a black eye above a bloody gash on her cheek. Instead, she watched smugly as Uthgerd struggled to catch her breath and get her bearings again. Uthgerd was definitely going to have at least one black eye, and her still bleeding nose was probably broken.

"Now 'at's wha' I call a punsch," she admitted, slurring a bit through the blood. "You got me," she conceded.

"Damn right I did," Lynn grumbled, turning to grab both coin purses from the bar.

She said something else about the best fight she'd had in years, and offering to help if she ever needed another blade at her side, but Lynn wasn't very interested. She replied with a skeptical laugh before thanking Hulda for her trouble and heading off to her room for the night.

 

•

 

Having not just exhausted her magic with a flame spell, Lynn found casting a healing spell until she couldn't feel the split in her lip anymore wasn't as difficult as she'd expected it to be. Once that was accomplished, she was very happy to change out of her armor. She used the washbasin in the corner of her room to wipe herself down a bit before throwing on the dress Gerdur had included in her pack of supplies.

It was a long dress, very much like the one Gerdur had been wearing that morning, a comfortable off-white cotton under-layer, with a moss-green wool top-layer that laced in the front and hung to her ankles. Lynn fumbled a little with getting it on, but once she managed it decided she was quite comfortable.

Gerdur's bag of supplies also still included, a bottle of wine, another bottle of mead, a few red potion bottles that Lynn hoped were healing potions, a lock pick, and a silver ring with a dark red gem. She'd eaten all the food and drank one bottle of mead earlier that day, but it had been enough to get her to Whiterun. 

She sat and drank the other bottle of mead while she used the rags from the washbasin to clean her iron armor a bit, listening to the bard playing on the other side of her door out in the main room of tavern.

She had to venture awkwardly out for the tavern's room of chamber pots before going to bed... and then ended up deciding that the top wool layer of her dress was too warm for sleeping in, but by the time she finally settled in, she found the room rather comfortable. Predictably, she woke only a few hours later from nightmares, but managed to convince herself that the inn was not on fire around her. She pulled out the bottle of wine that had been in her supply pack and drank just enough of it to make herself drowsy enough to go back to sleep. She had a bit of a headache when she woke up in the morning, but it had at least kept her sleeping soundly enough that she managed to feel rested.

She experimentally cast her healing spell again, and found it helped more than she'd expected, and then got herself dressed for the day.

It was time to see if she could manage to impress the Companions.

Chapter 7: Jorrvaskr

Lynn treated herself to an apple and a sweet roll before heading out of the Bannered Mare and making her way up toward the overturned old long boat that made roof of the Companions' mead hall.

She flinched when a shadow passed overhead, but it was only a bird flying over and she managed avoid falling into the same panic as she had the day before. She still had to stop under the large old barren tree and take several deep breaths though.

Once she thought she could walk into the mead hall looking relatively confident and tough, she pulled her mage's hood off her head and proceeded up the steps and into the hall.

Inside was a loud din of chaos as a brawl appeared to have just broken out between two of the warriors. Other Companions watched, and Lynn found she recognized all of them from Cait's memories... there was Aela, Ria, and Farkas from yesterday, and then an older balding warrior with one bad eye and unique steel armor with a wolf head on the chest plate that her copied memories told her was Skjor... a younger, blond, bearded man in standard leather armor she knew was Torvar... and the two fighting consisted of a woman and a man, both wearing simple hide armor... the woman Cait knew as Njada, had light blond hair and fair skin, and the man, Athis, had dark grey skin, red hair, and elven features.

Skjor made some comment about those two being at it again and Torvar said something about it being too early in the morning for this, but Aela and Farkas were already placing bets on the fight and yelling to egg them on. No one seemed to notice Lynn.

She watched for a moment longer as the brawl continued and then turned to look around the hall... after convincing herself not to panic over the smoky smells of the hearth fires at Dragonsreach and the Bannered Mare, the large hearth and warm smoky atmosphere of Jorrvaskr wasn't horribly startling, but it did take her a moment to adjust to. The large feasting tables around the hearth had the remnants of what looked like it had been a good breakfast of meat and potatoes, cheese, apple turnovers, and there were crumbs from what had probably been sweet rolls. Lynn thought she certainly wouldn't mind having food like that available to her on a regular basis...

Her copied memories made her fairly confident that she knew where to go and who to talk to about joining, but it felt rude to simply waltz through the hall like she belonged there without getting confirmation from someone...

Then an older woman in a faded yellow dress caught her eye, sweeping over by the stairs that led down to what Cait recalled as the living chambers. That, according to Cait, should be Tilma.

"Excuse me," Lynn began, walking up to the older woman and doing her best at a polite smile.

"Hmm?" She said looking up from her sweeping. Then, "oh, I'm just a servant, dear," she shook her head. "You want to talk to one of the Companions, I'm sure."

"Ah, yes," Lynn nodded, "do you know who I talk to about potentially joining?"

"Of course, dear," Tilma said with a kind smile, "that'll be Kodlak Whitemane. He should be in his study, downstairs, all the way at the end of the hall," she explained, pointing down the stairs.

"Alright, thank you," Lynn smiled before heading for the stairs.

 

The downstairs living quarters of Jorrvaskr seemed comfortable... not as warm as the upstairs had been, but it also didn't have the smoky smell that put Lynn on edge, so she thought that seemed nice.

At the end of the long hallway there was a door,  mostly open and Lynn could see an old warrior with a long white beard and white and grey hair... he was wearing steel armor just like the armor Skjor had been wearing upstairs.

Of course she knew this was Kodlak. Walking down the hallway gave her the same sense of déjà vu she'd begun getting used to... she could barely hear him having a hushed conversation with someone, but he stopped and looked up as she approached.

"A stranger comes to our hall," he commented, cocking his eyebrow at her curiously.

Lynn took a deep breath and stepped through the door. "Yes," she said, trying not to look nervous, "I would like to join the Companions."

"Would you now?" Kodlak cocked his head, "here, let me have a look at you," he nodded, motioning for her to step forward as he considered her appraisingly.

As he did Lynn glanced to the man he'd been talking with... Cait had known this character well... Vilkas...

...He was Farkas's twin, maybe a little leaner than Farkas, but still a large, bulky beast of a man, with dark hair and piercing pale blue eyes... he was wearing armor the same style as Skjor's and Kodlak's, and dark warpaint on his face that made his eyes look even more sharp and piercing. He was looking her over critically as well, but when Lynn's eyes met his she suddenly felt like she'd been kicked in the gut...

Something in his expression very suddenly reminded her of Aiden— the worst part of having to accept that she wasn't Cait; that Aiden wasn't with her and never would be... and being reminded of him by someone like this just felt like twisting the knife in that wound...

Vilkas's eyes widened slightly as he looked at her in an expression that might have been recognition before his face shifted to an intimidating scowl.

"Hmm... Yes, perhaps... a certain strength of spirit," Kodlak mused thoughtfully, throwing Vilkas a questioning look.

"Master, you're not truly considering accepting her?" Vilkas protested in obvious disapproval.

"I am nobody's master, Vilkas," Kodlak replied almost scoldingly. "And last I checked, we had some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts."

They argued mildly for a moment while Lynn watched Vilkas uncomfortably... maybe trying to join the Companions wasn't the best idea... she wasn't sure she could handle living and working in a mead hall with someone who reminded her of Aiden and wasn't Aiden.

Lynn was pulled from her uncomfortable thoughts as Kodlak said something of an agreement with Vilkas as he looked back to her...

"How are you in a battle, girl?" He asked with an expression of kind curiosity.

"I... I've managed so far," she began hesitantly, "but I'm sure I've got a lot to learn," she said humbly.

"That's the spirit," Kodlak smiled, shooting Vilkas a glance that looked like it could have been an 'I told you so' look before turning back to Lynn. "Vilkas, here, will get started on that," he said, nodding pointedly at Vilkas. Then he looked back to Vilkas with a stern smirk. "Vilkas, take her out to the yard and see what she can do."

"Aye," Vilkas agreed in grumpy resignation as he got to his feet.

He stepped past her, meeting her eye again with an intense gaze she couldn't quite read but it made her feel an uneasy fluttering in her stomach.

"Come on," he said in low voice before turning and stalking out the doors.

 

Lynn followed, trying not to think of Cait's memories of Aiden. 

 

•

 

Vilkas led her out to the back porch of the mead hall, grabbing a large shield from a wrack before stepping out the doors. He drew the sword from his belt almost lazily as he continued out into the yard.

"The old man said to have a look at you, so let's do this," he said begrudgingly, motioning her forward with his sword.

Lynn stepped out to where he seemed to be directing her and drew her sword, getting into her fighting stance as well. She wished she had a shield or something else for her off hand... she knew better than to use the flame spell she'd dropped her iron axe for back in Helgen.

"Just have a few swings at me so I can see your form," Vilkas instructed, still sounding grumpy, but then a bit of a cocky smirk formed on his face as he looked her up and down. "Don't worry, I can take it," he added.

Lynn hated that she found that smug smirk of his so attractive.

She lunged forward with her sword, aiming for the small gap between his shield and his sword where she could actually see his face. Of course he moved to block easily and she had to duck back and parry his responding strike, but the fact that she managed that without dropping her sword like he'd clearly tried to make her do seemed to surprise him. She darted around, trying to get an opening, but Vilkas was about as quick as she was. They traded several strikes, each blocking or parrying the other. Vilkas seemed to be working up to harder and more powerful strikes each time he swung his sword. Lynn hadn't managed to actually hit him, but she was at least keeping up with parrying his strikes. Even when he seemed to actually be swinging his sword with intent… Lynn could tell she had no hope of beating him, but she was at least not letting him beat her.

Then, suddenly he lunged forward with a shield bash and Lynn didn't jump back far enough. She parried his sword and took his shield to the chest and went toppling backwards. Frantically, she hit the ground and rolled to the side, narrowly dodging his swinging sword. He clearly hadn't expected her to move that quickly or in that direction though, and from that angle Lynn managed to swing her sword, under his shield and clip the side of his knee. Vilkas stumbled, looking startled as he muttered a curse under his breath, and Lynn took the opportunity to jump back to her feet. She swung in at him again, but he got his shield up to block her again.

"Pretty good arm you have there," he admitted, sounding much less grumpy than he had before, but then he quickly followed up with a swing of his sword that Lynn only narrowly dodged back from, and then he stood down with a slight chuckle. "Not bad," he conceded, looking pleased, "you're mightier than you look," he added, looking down at his bloody leg with a bemused expression.

Lynn sheathed her sword in relief, trying not to let on how out of breath she was.

"You might just make it," he nodded, turning back to her with a cocky smirk, "but for now, you're still a whelp to us, new blood... so you do what we tell you," he said with a smug sneer. "Here's my sword. Go take it up to Eorlund to have it sharpened," he ordered, stepping in closer than Lynn thought he needed to to hand her his weapon... "and be careful," he added, "it's probably worth more than you are."

His words were harsh, but his expression was smug... he was goading her, Lynn realized...

She watched, trying to make sense of that as he turned and walked back up to the back doors of Jorrvaskr. He was clearly trying very hard not to limp, and he mostly managed it, but not quite... he looked back over his shoulder at her with another cocky smirk before going inside, leaving Lynn standing in the training yard, holding Vilkas's sword.

Based on his bemused and then smug expressions, Lynn was fairly certain she had actually impressed him... he was just going to enjoy being an ass about it...

...And she really hated the way that smirk of his made her heart jump. She wasn't ready to deal with anything like that...

Which meant she probably wasn't ready to deal with being a Companion... but that left the question of what should she do now?

She looked down at the sword Vilkas had just handed her... it was much nicer than the one she'd pulled off the dead imperial officer in Helgen... it had a better balance and a more comfortable grip...

Honestly, Lynn decided, if this sword was worth so much to him, he probably shouldn't have just handed it off to a stranger along with such rude comments...

And with that, Lynn pulled her mage's hood back over her head as she turned and walked, not up to the Skyforge, but off around the side of the building. She hurried out to the streets of Whiterun, and then out the city gates altogether with Vilkas's sword still in hand.

Chapter 8: The Sleeping Giant Inn

Lynn was clear out of the city by the time she realized she probably should have bought herself some food for the road before leaving, but she wasn't about to go back in the city gates.

One of the guards had commented warningly about her walking around with a weapon drawn and Lynn paused to gingerly slip Vilkas's sword into the enchanted magic pocket on the belt of her armor. She'd need to get a sheath made for it so she could hang it properly on her hip, but that could wait until she'd put more distance between herself and Vilkas... and after she'd gotten more food.

She stopped at the Khajiit caravan that was encamped outside the city and was relieved to find they actually had some food items for sale. She bought a couple drumstick-looking portions of roasted dark meat that she suspected were rabbit, and a loaf of bread. Lynn thanked the Khajiit, who she thought she recalled was Ri'saad (but Cait could definitely be misremembering that) and then made her way quickly back to the road heading east. 

She wrapped her food carefully in the cloth Gerdur had had her bread and cheese wrapped in the day before and tucked it into her enchanted bag so she'd have it for when she got hungry on the walk back to Riverwood.

Another rabid seeming wolf came at her about half way there, and Lynn quickly verified how much more effective Vilkas's sword was than the pitifully blunted one she'd been using.

 

She sold the wolf pelt and the old imperial sword to Alvor when she got back to Riverwood, and then asked him if he could sell her a sheath for her new sword. He assured her he could make one, but expressed suspicions on where she'd gotten such a fine weapon without its sheath. Lynn told him she'd won a bit of gold in a tavern brawl and left it at that. Alvor still looked suspicious, but he didn't call her a liar. Actually, he seemed pleased to get to work with such a nice piece of steel and even sharpened it for her before handing it back in a well-made leather sheath.

Lynn also found, in relief, that the forge in Riverwood didn't trigger the horrible memories of Helgen like the ones in Whiterun had. The calm, peaceful forest surrounding it with the sound of running water not far off muffled the echos of the blacksmith's hammer as opposed to amplifying it the way the stone walls of the city had... and the smell of fire and hot metal wasn't as concentrated because of the gentle breezes that blew more freely. She decided she'd be back to Alvor to buy her armor upgrades as soon as she could afford them just because his forge didn't make her as uncomfortable.

 

After she thanked and paid Alvor for his trouble, she dropped in at the Riverwood Trader to see what other rations she could buy. After interrupting the argument the shopkeeper was having with his sister, and offering to be on the lookout for the golden claw that had apparently been stolen, Lynn bought herself some more bread and cheese, and a couple of apples to store in her enchanted bag, just in case.

Cait had never had to deal with worrying about food and shelter, Lynn thought grumpily... Cait was probably still enjoying this as if it were all a game, purely for entertainment. With that irritated thought, Lynn decided she was going to rent a room at the inn and not head up to Bleakfalls Barrow until morning.

 

The Sleeping Giant Inn was warm, but not overly smoky, and a blond man was playing a lute in the corner while the dark-haired barkeep leaned lazily against the bar. It was still relatively early in the day and there didn't seem to be much going on, except that Lynn walked in just in time to hear the owner yelling at the barkeep...

"Orgnar!" The woman with a blue dress and a blond ponytail was yelling from a doorway back behind the bar while the younger looking, barkeep was just leaning against the bar, looking up at Lynn's approach with a tired and slightly apologetic expression...

Cait knew this place and these characters relatively well also...

"Orgnar, are you listening?" Delphine demanded sounding exasperated as she turned around with her hand on her hip.

"Hard not to," Orgnar drawled with a slight roll of his eyes.

Lynn couldn't help but smirk slightly at him as she took a seat at the bar.

"The ale's going bad," Delphine replied shortly before turning back to examining things in the storeroom.

Orgnar sighed quietly and shook his head a little, then looked like he was about to say something of a greeting to Lynn, but before he got words out Delphine stuck her head out the doorway again.

"Did you hear me?" She snapped.

"Yep," Orgnar nodded, "ale's goin' bad," he repeated bluntly.

"Huh, I guess you don't have potatoes stuck in your ears after all," Delphine commented in mild surprise as she turned back to the storeroom again. "Just make sure we get a new batch soon," she called over her shoulder.

Orgnar sighed and shook his head again, giving Lynn another apologetic look. "Welcome in," he said gruffly, "we got rooms an' food, drink too... I cook. What c'n I get y'?"

"Apparently not ale," Lynn smirked.

Orgnar chuckled but rolled his eyes. "It ain't that bad yet," he shrugged, "jus' gettin' a little more sour 'n most people like. I wouldn't charge y' for it after hearin' that though," he added with a nod towards the storeroom.

Lynn nodded in appreciative amusement, but before she responded a middle aged man with a thick, dark blonde beard sauntered in the door and dropped himself heavily onto a barstool...

"Gimme a mug of ale," he demanded with a sloppy grin.

"Comin' right up," Orgnar nodded, looking entirely unbothered as he turned to the barrel on the shelf and filled a tankard for him.

"Thanks friend," the man grinned more as Orgnar handed him the tankard, he downed most of it in a single swig before sauntering unsteadily to take a seat in front of the bard.

"Think Embry likes it better when it gets like this 'cause 'e knows I won't charge 'im for it," Orgnar shrugged.

"I guess if you're handing it out for free I won't turn it down," Lynn shrugged, "what's good for dinner?"

"Got some bread, cheese, an' baked potatoes ready now," he replied as he filled another tankard with ale, "an' some goat an' pheasants on the grill should be good soon."

"Sounds great," Lynn nodded.

She got a baked potato to go with her ale, and then a serving of the roasted pheasant once it was ready. The ale really wasn't that bad, Lynn thought, if she hadn't overheard Delphine yelling about it she probably wouldn't have noticed anything wrong at all. And the food was quite good as well.

Lynn was also rather impressed with the bard, or with his playing at least, she got much less impressed later on in the evening when he stopped playing his lute and began ranting to the drunk about Faendal trying to woo a Camilla away from him... blustering about her being already his, and how she already knows he's the best man in town.

Lynn was tempted to go advise Camilla that if Sven was the best option in town that she should consider leaving town. She knew she certainly would in her position... but she didn't particularly care to get involved... it felt petty.

Instead she simply grumbled to Orgnar that she liked the bard better when he shut up and played music instead of ranting, to which Orgnar chuckled and yelled at Sven to play something on his flute for a while.

After that Lynn flagged down Delphine to rent herself a room for the night and went to bed.

 

•

 

The next morning Lynn enjoyed a bowl of the apple-cabbage stew Orgnar had made for breakfast. It was a warm meal, more filling than Lynn had expected it to be, and despite Cait always thinking such a dish sounded strange, Lynn was happy with it.

Then she headed up the road again and instead of the road towards Whiterun, she continued on up to Bleakfalls Barrow.

Chapter 9: Dragonborn

Lynn handled Bleakfalls Barrow with Vilkas's sword in one hand, and flame spells in the other. She wouldn't say she actually liked delving through the old cript, but she did have to admit to herself, she was beginning to enjoy the rush of adrenaline that came with each fight.

Killing bandits made her feel a little guilty... they were people— ones who'd made very poor life choices and likely had very questionable morals, but still people. The draugr on the other hand, Lynn felt no remorse setting them on fire and cutting them down.

She also noticed, the more flames she cast, the more natural feeling the magic became. It drained her less than it had her first day...

The sword still felt more natural, but by the time she climbed out of Bleakfalls Barrow, she was confident she could sustain a flame spell long enough to drop at least a simple draugr without even swinging her sword if she wanted to.

She still wasn't much for archery, but the hunting bow she'd picked up after killing a bandit was better than the long bow Ralof had given her. And of course the word wall had intrigued her— it felt like an ancient power was calling out specifically to her… and of course Cait's memories gave her a decent idea of what that meant.

 

But best of all, when she brought the golden claw back to the Riverwood trader, the reward money, along with the gold and sellable loot she'd collected in the barrow, she could actually afford to upgrade her armor to the nicer steel set that Alvor was selling.

So Lynn spent the whole morning going through the barrow, and then the whole afternoon selling loot and then getting herself fitted for new steel armor, boots, and gauntlets. She skipped the helmet, sticking to the mage hood instead. It did seem to be helping her spell casting. And the steel armor felt even better than the iron had.

After another restful night at the Sleeping Giant Inn, she decided it was time to head back to Whiterun to bring the Jarl's court wizard this silly dragon stone tablet. So she enjoyed another hearty breakfast and bought some more food for the road before setting off.

The walk to Whiterun was fairly uneventful, and much less tiring on a full stomach. She'd actually only eaten one of her apples before she got there.

Though... after she brought the stone tablet to Farengar she began to wonder what she'd been thinking being in a hurry...

Hearing Irileth run in yelling at Farengar to "come at once" because a dragon had been seen made Lynn suddenly feel a sickening combination of dread and déjà vu. She knew bringing the tablet would be likely to trigger this next sequence of events... why had she been in such a hurry?

Her heart spiked uneasily as Balgruuf presumptuously called her a friend as he asked her to go with Irileth and help her fight the dragon. She only hoped Cait's memories of this being a lessor dragon and therefore a survivable fight turned out to be more accurate than her feelings of Helgen had been.

Lynn was already trying not to panic as she walked out of Dragonsreach a little awkwardly ahead of the Jarl's housecarl while she rounded up a few men to help...

Lynn, meanwhile, held tightly to the hilt of her sword, as she tried to think more carefully on Cait's memories...
She'd been previously trying to ignore them, but now she just wanted a better idea of what she was about to be up against...

 

She was standing under the dead branches of the Gildergreen, staring out over the city wall, lost in nervous thoughts, waiting for Irileth when she was suddenly startled by a loud clanking off to her left... and a sudden accusatory yell of "YOU," in a deep, angry voice.

Lynn turned with a start to see Vilkas stalking hurriedly down the steps toward her with an angry scowl on his face. She swore frantically under her breath (which came out as a bit of an embarrassing squeak) and bolted.

She heard the loud clanks of his steel armor as Vilkas took chase, but she didn't look back as she sprinted down the streets of Whiterun. She dashed through the market and past the blacksmith's shop before shoving her way quickly through the city gates, but it sounded like Vilkas was still closing on her quickly.

Lynn had hoped the gate would at least slow him down, but it didn't seem to.

Without really thinking about it, Lynn ran toward the Western Watchtower. She ditched the road, running through the grassy planes, jumping rocks and small hills, trying to lose him, but just as the smoldering watchtower was coming into view, Vilkas caught up. He took a running leap off one of the boulders Lynn had jumped, and tackled her, suddenly slamming them both into the ground with a loud clamor of clashing steel.

The impact knocked the air out of Lynn's lungs and made spots swim across her vision. It took a moment for her to even register that she was face down in the grass with Vilkas's massive form pinning her down.

"I have... half a mind... to slit your throat with that sword you stole," he growled, catching his breath as he leaned heavily over her. His angry voice just above the back of her ear made Lynn's heart skip uncomfortably in a way she wasn't about to admit wasn't strictly from fear.

"I...'m... sorry..." she managed in a choked voice as she struggled to refill her lungs without inhaling grass as well. "I... needed..."

"Oh-ho I'm sure you're sorry," Vilkas snarked, "sorry you showed your face back in town."

"N-no... I..."

"And I'm sure you've got all kinds of excuses," he sneered sarcastically as he pulled her hood back so he could see her face.

Lynn was able to look then, with one eye at least, up into Vilkas's scowling face that was leaned in uncomfortably close to hers.

"Did you actually want to join us in the first place or was it just an excuse?" He demanded.

Lynn struggled to shift his weight from her back so she could breath easier and think of an answer, but her struggling just seemed to amuse him. He pressed tighter with his thighs around her lower back, calling Lynn's attention to the fact that he was actually sitting on her bottom... if he weren't so heavily pinning her it might have been provocative situation, but Lynn didn't find anything sexy about being pinned so hard with her face in the grass that she could barely breathe...

But as Vilkas pinned her tighter and leaned in closer, the smirk on his face made Lynn wonder if he had other ideas on that...

"Come on now," he said in a low, dangerous tone, "I want to hear you try and explain yourself," he said slowly, reaching to her hip to grab the hilt of his sword, "while I decide how I'm going to make you pay for this..." he added as his lips curled into a threatening smile... or maybe it would be better described as a sneer...

Lynn shuddered almost involuntarily, and tried to shift her weight to pin the sheathed sword under her hip while she tried to think of what excuse she could give... she knew she really shouldn't have just run off with his sword, but honestly, she was a bit angry too...

"You... shouldn't have... discredited me," she grumbled before she could think better of it, "I needed a good sword, and you made me angry."

For a moment Vilkas looked more amused as he cocked his eyebrow, but he definitely maintained his threatening demeanor. "Really?" He sneered slowly.

Lynn was pretty sure that despite being angry he was enjoying having caught her... but before she could answer, the roar of the dragon suddenly startled both of them. 

Lynn took advantage of Vilkas looking up with a start to push herself up and twist underneath him. Then the dragon flew into view and it was suddenly even easier for Lynn to move because Vilkas wasn't worried about her anymore.

"By Ysmir..." he swore in disbelief as he got to his feet and went for his bow in alarm.

Lynn scrambled quickly to her feet as well, and cast her healing spell to help recover her bearings.

"Come on!" Irileth called from the road as she and a detachment of guards ran past.

Lynn followed hurriedly.

"Hey, wait!" Vilkas yelled sounding startled as he ran after her again.

But Lynn wasn't waiting— she'd rather deal with a dragon than with Vilkas. 

She got to the watchtower in time to hear the guard inside tell them two others had been grabbed and then the dragon circled back into view.

Lynn made sure Vilkas's sword was still securely in its new sheath on her hip before pulling out the hunting bow she'd gotten from the bandits. She still wasn't a great shot, but she'd amassed a decent enough collection of arrows from the barrow that she didn't really care that she had to shoot so many as she ran and dodged the flying monster's flaming breath. 

She was surprised at one point to notice Vilkas had stuck around and was also shooting up at the dragon with a bow, but she didn't have time to pay him much attention.

When the dragon was finally brought down Lynn was quick to draw her stolen sword and rush for its face. If she had been a real, normal person like Cait, it would have been a very stupid thing to do, but in her adrenaline rush, Lynn knew she was neither normal, nor real— she was the Dragonborn, specifically made for this.

She cast her healing spell just to be safe as she slashed and stabbed at the dragon's eyes. When it snapped angrily at her she jumped back and slashed across its nose.

She wasn't quick enough to get out of the way of the fire breath more than once, but she just kept her healing spell readied in her left hand. Every time the fire got too close her whole body seared with pain for a moment but the magic soothed it all away before she even faltered in her sword strike. Then she got her chance... the dragon cocked its head to look to its other side as Vilkas had charged in swinging a great sword, and Lynn grabbed one of its horns and jumped onto its head.

There was a brief moment of recognition in the dragon's eyes as it looked up at her and it cried out in fear just before she ran her sword into its eye and deep into its skull. She pulled her sword free and stabbed again and then once more to be sure, and then jumped safely clear as the dragon collapsed, dead to the ground.

There was a brief moment of hopeful silence as everything fell still and then a few of the guards began to cheer... then everyone but Lynn jumped back with a start as the dragon's body began to burn away. Lynn braced herself as the rush of warmth and power flew to her. She felt... invigorated. It was strength and power, validation... and exhaustion all at once.

Lynn couldn't help but smirk slightly as she sheathed Vilkas's sword back on her hip and looked up to see Vilkas staring at her with an intense expression she couldn't quite read... he was definitely surprised, but she couldn't tell if he was still angry or if he was impressed.

Then the surviving guards began to gather around her with amazed comments about her being Dragonborn.

 

The word wall she'd found the previous morning had been in the back of her mind ever since, and she was pleased to feel that one of the words had stuck in her mind, giving a direction and an idea what to do with her newly acquired power... it was force... the understanding of it dawned on her like one of the gods giving her a light kick to her backside, encouraging her to accept the destiny she was created for. It was a comforting feeling actually, which also suddenly gave her a bit of a sense of why she'd been created the way she had... a being with a copied soul and memories from a person who had played out almost every scenario one possibly could for her destiny... now Lynn knew all her options, and she knew she had a body with the potential to actually achieve the mighty feats she was supposed to be destined for.

...and... not being real meant she had nothing to lose...

 

So when the guards all began clamoring for her to try to shout like the Greybeards, Lynn looked to the dragon skeleton feeling almost as curious as the guards...

She took a deep breath, thinking of the word she'd seen on the wall... imagining the feeling of throwing her enemies backwards like the draugr with the dragon stone tablet had done, shouting at her the previous morning... and when she exhaled in what felt like should have been a simple yell, her voice came out with a shockwave of force as well, knocking the dragon skeleton a few yards back and sending several scales and loose bones tumbling and scattering slightly... and startling everyone around her.

Lynn grinned. That felt good.

It felt even better when she looked back to see Vilkas's expression was definitely bordering more toward awed than angry now.

Chapter 10: Vilkas’s Sword

The guards continued on excitedly until Irileth told them to shut up about things they didn't understand. Lynn collected a couple of dragon bones and scales as souvenirs and then did her best to politely extract herself from the conversations.

The fact that Vilkas hadn't continued to be aggressive and angry pacified her temper considerably, and Lynn realized she probably should give him his sword back. The reward from the Jarl for killing a dragon would probably be enough that she could at least buy herself a steel sword... and she could probably survive the walk back to Riverwood with only flame spells and her silly bow if she needed to.

With a sigh, Lynn unhooked Vilkas's sword from her belt. "Here," she said simply, handing it to him as she began walking back towards Whiterun. "I'm sorry I ran off with it," she added begrudgingly, "I needed a better sword, and your comment made me angry. I made a rash decision, and I'm sorry," she said, genuinely but grumpily, not waiting to see his reaction as she continued walking.

"Did you know?" Vilkas asked curiously, following her down the road, "that you're Dragonborn, I mean."

"Yes," she replied bluntly.

"Was that why you came to the Companions?" He prodded.

"Partly," Lynn nodded, "but you convinced me I'm not cut out for it," she added irritably.

"Apologies," he said with a bit of a dejected sounding sigh, "but you know, that wasn't my assessment."

Lynn stopped and looked back at him then. Vilkas just stared back at her with a serious expression in his piercing blue eyes.

"Here," he added, handing the sword and its sheath back to her, "my sword still needs to be taken to Eorlund for sharpening," he said meaningfully.

"Wha— I just told you I'm not cut out for the Companions," Lynn shook her head in confusion, pushing the sword back into his hands.

"I heard you," Vilkas nodded, "but that was supposed to be my judgement to make," he said, firmly giving the sword back to her. "Besides that, if you're going after dragons I wager this'll serve you better than that pitiful imperial thing you had before," he smirked.

Lynn really didn't like the way his smirk made her heart skip.

"I guess I can't argue with that," she grumbled begrudgingly.

Vilkas's smirk was beginning to look more like a smug grin, and he started to say something else, but then they both jumped with a slight start again as the thundering call of "DOVAHKIIN!!!" Sounded from the tall distant mountain top.

It took a few moments for the thundering echos to stop, which fortunately gave Lynn a moment to collect herself again.

"That... was the Greybeards," Vilkas breathed, blinking up at the Throat of the World with a look of awe once everything was quiet again. "I've lived in sight of that peak as long as I can remember, and never heard such a thing," he said in amazement. "Do you think they heard or somehow sensed your shout?" He asked, looking back to Lynn.

Lynn sighed. "Probably something like that," she shrugged.

Vilkas shook his head and looked back up to the mountain. "I know the legends of course, but I honestly wasn't sure I believed the Greybeards actually existed," he admitted, looking bemused again. 

Lynn had half a mind to offer that he could come with her to go answer that summons, but from Cait's knowledge, she was pretty sure he wouldn't even if she offered, and another part of her didn't want the company anyway... even if he was being more tolerable at the moment.

She sighed heavily instead and turned her attention back to Vilkas's sword.

"You're sure you don't mind me killing a few more dragons with this then?" She clarified uncertainly.

"Aye," Vilkas nodded, "bring it to Eorlund for sharpening... whenever you decide you're ready to come back and join us," he said in a surprisingly gentle but serious tone, "I'll be looking forward to hearing your stories," he added with a bemused smirk.

Lynn shook her head in resignation as she hooked the sword back onto her belt. "Here then," she said, pulling out one of the dragon scales she'd collected and handing it to him, "Aela laughed at me the other day when I said I'd escaped a dragon attack. You can tell today's story so she won't be still laughing if I come back."

"I'll make sure she hears the glorious details," Vilkas chuckled, looking in appreciation at the scale, "might even get her to apologize when you come back," he added with a smirk.

Lynn didn't miss the way he said 'when' even though she'd said 'if'. She rolled her eyes, but couldn't stay as grumpy.

"And... speaking of apologies," Vilkas said, looking suddenly a little sheepish, "I suppose I also owe you an apology for earlier... before the dragon today..."

Lynn almost laughed. "Honestly, I didn't appreciate it, but I figured you were justified," she shrugged.

"Maybe I was," Vilkas replied, shrugging as well, "but I still could have not... treated you the way I did..." he said, looking embarrassed.

Lynn took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying not to think about how he'd had her pinned and seemed to be enjoying it... or about how the fact that he was apologizing for it in embarrassment now meant he had known exactly what he was doing at the time... no... that really wasn't a thought Lynn needed to entertain.

She shook her head. "Apology accepted then," Lynn conceded, "if you can forgive me for stealing your sword at least."

"Aye," Vilkas nodded, with an actually happy looking subtle smile. "I'll be able to brag now that the Dragonborn of legend used my sword to slay a dragon," he chuckled.

"That you can do," Lynn agreed, "it came in very useful."

"I'm glad," Vilkas said with a slightly smug chuckle.

 

As they walked back to Whiterun, Vilkas continued asking curious questions. He wanted to know what else she'd killed with his sword, so she told him about retrieving the dragon stone from Bleakfalls Barrow. Then he'd asked curiously about Helgen.

Lynn was surprised he was understanding when she said she didn't really want to talk about Helgen. He said he had been out on a job and seen the pillar of smoke that day, and even thought he'd seen a shape flying over the mountain that he now supposed was the dragon. Lynn begrudgingly gave him the quick version of the story then, which he seemed to appreciate.

They'd reached the Gildergreen by then and Vilkas took his leave, heading up the steps towards Jorrvaskr, but then he stopped suddenly turning back.

"Wait," he called out, looking a little frustrated as he took a few steps back toward her.

Lynn just looked up at him in attentive confusion.

"I feel a fool," he chuckled, looking mildly embarrassed, "but could I know the name of the mighty Dragonborn?" He asked hopefully.

Lynn blinked. A man with war paint smeared across his face and soot smudges all over his armor had no business looking as attractive as he did standing there, looking down the steps at her with a hopeful smile like that.

"It's Lynn," she replied, doing her best to sound confident and unflustered. 

"Lynn," he repeated with a smile, but he cocked his head curiously as if expecting more, like a last name or a title.

"Just Lynn," she shrugged, shaking her head.

"Alright, I can relate to that," he chuckled, "I am just Vilkas," he smirked. "I know you've got things to do, but I do hope you'll come find me at Jorrvaskr sooner rather than later," he said with a genuine looking expression as he nodded his head up toward the mead hall, "e— even if just for a drink," he added, hopefully, and... maybe a little embarrassedly.

It was a startlingly attractive invitation, and Lynn was quite certain she wasn't ready to have her heart jumping like this.

"I'll... keep that in mind," she nodded, forcing a smile that she hoped didn't look awkward. "Thank you again," she added, patting the sword on her hip.

"Aye," Vilkas replied with a slight grin, "put it to good use, and may the gods watch over your battles."

"Yours as well," Lynn replied genuinely, but relieved that she could wave and take her leave then.

She practically ran up the steps to Dragonsreach, hoping the random thought from Cait's memories about Vilkas being able to hear her heartbeat wasn't accurate... because she really didn't need him knowing how his smiles and smirks made her heart race.

Chapter 11: Bad Dreams

Cait's knowledge told Lynn she shouldn't be surprised, but Lynn was surprised anyway when Jarl Balgruuf named her Thane of the hold. She was even more surprised (even though Cait would tell her she shouldn't be) that he assigned her a personal housecarl.

The "Axe of Whiterun", as he'd called it, was nice, but Lynn had no idea what she was supposed to do with a housecarl. 

Lydia didn't seem bothered by her uncertainty though. She very nonchalantly assured her that she was comfortable either accompanying her, or waiting for her at Dragonsreach, or any residence that might need guarding.

Lynn had no idea what to do with that suggestion, but when they stepped out of Dragonsreach again, the sight of Jorrvaskr made her think of Vilkas... which made her feel a bit flustered again. She very quickly decided she didn't want to stay in Whiterun longer than she had to...

So even though it had been a long day and was approaching sundown, Lynn decided she should set off to answer that summons from the Greybeards. She should be able to make it to Riverwood in reasonable time, and it was a good excuse to get far away from Vilkas again.

Not that she actually disliked Vilkas, if she was being honest with herself... that was just the problem— she actually did like him, a lot, and she wasn't ready to deal with that.

And since she wasn't sure what else to do with Lydia, Lynn ended up deciding she could join her for her walk back to Riverwood. That should at least give her a couple hours to get an idea of whether or not she could handle a traveling companion, and wouldn't be too far away from Whiterun if the answer was "no."

 

•

 

It was very late by the time they got to the Sleeping Giant Inn, but Lydia proved surprising useful on the trek. She was a decent shot with her bow, and the Jarl had given her an enchanted quiver that would never run out of arrows. 

She also didn't pry or ask Lynn questions about where they were going or what the plan was, she just followed agreeably and seemed happy to be out of Whiterun. Lynn only needed to see her shoot one of the skeevers they happened upon in the dark to decide that having Lydia for a traveling companion was a good idea.

 

 

 

So Lynn and Lydia stayed the night in Riverwood. Orgnar didn't have much in the way of a hot dinner by the time they got there, but there was bread, cheese, and potatoes, and he was still handing out the last of his slightly sour ale for free, so Lynn didn't mind. She drank enough ale to keep herself solidly knocked out through the nightmares, and a healing spell cleared her headache the next morning.

What they'd lacked for dinner Orgnar seemed intend on making up for at breakfast. They had his apple cabbage stew again, but he'd also fixed up a plate of boiled cream treats, and Lynn didn't think he'd charged them what he normally would have for them... she was pretty sure her breakfast had cost about the same the previous days when it had simply been a good bowl of the apple cabbage stew, but she wasn't about to complain. The boiled cream treats as he'd called them were a lovely sweet, custard-like cream, and having one after her stew Lynn almost felt like she'd eaten too much. 

 

After they finished their hearty breakfast, they packed food for the road and continued on toward Ivrastead. It took most of the day walking, mostly following the roads... 

Lynn had refused to walk through Helgen and they'd meandered through the trees and mountainsides for a ways before finding the road again. That ordeal made Lynn even happier to have Lydia with her because it took both of them to deal with a pack of about six frostbite spiders they happened upon. They also made the mistake of startling a bear, and then came across another seemingly rabid wolf.

Lynn also found herself feeling grateful that Aiden had convinced Cait to make her a Nord because she would have otherwise been in rough shape when the road wound up through a rather snowy mountain pass. 

As they came down the other side of the mountains, the snow turned to rain, and even with their Nordic constitutions and the rations Orgnar had sold them, she and Lydia were tired, cold and hungry by the time they made it into the small village of Ivrastead.

Lynn bought them each a bowl of stew and a some bread, and rented a room for the night. She wasn't sure if the stew was venison or beef here either, and she still didn't bother asking, but she guessed it was which ever option that wasn't what she'd had at the Bannered Mare. It was good, warm, and filling whatever it was.

The closest thing Lydia made to a complaint all day was when Lynn paid for dinner; she reminded her good-naturedly that the Jarl had given her enough coin to cover her own meals and expenses. Lynn had felt a bit relieved at that information (and a bit silly for not even thinking about it at all that morning or the previous evening) and told Lydia she could buy their drinks then.

So Lydia had gotten them each a whole bottle of Honningbrew mead, and they ate mostly in comfortable silence, making only occasional small talk... general plans for setting off up the mountain in the morning, not believing the rumors the tavern keeper was going on about the barrow up the hill being haunted, hoping the storm they could hear blowing outside would clear up before morning.

The tavern was comfortable, and between the strong mead and walking all day, Lynn had no trouble going soundly to sleep. But instead of the nightmares about Helgen that she was becoming accustomed to trying to sleep through, she had an uncomfortably realistic dream about setting off up the mountain...

 

It was raining lightly when they got up and headed outside, more of a drizzle really, and the townsfolk were going about like the rain was nothing, so Lynn and Lydia had set out ignoring the rain as well... a decision Lynn soon regretted. The drizzle turned to freezing rain, and then to snow as they went up in elevation, and they almost didn't see a pair of wolves that rushed in for the attack, as well as an ice wraith. And then, while Lynn was still recovering her energy from casting her flame spells and then healing spells, a troll had jumped down from an overpass.

Vilkas's sword sliced cleanly into the troll's flesh, but the massive creature was hardly slowed down by a simple flesh wound. Even five of Lydia's arrows in its face and torso barely phased it, and though it wasn't faster than most people, it's massive reach meant it didn't need to be...

It easily slammed one of its huge palms into Lynn's side and threw her clear off her feet and she went over the icy precipice, tumbling and crashing off the side of the mountain.

She felt her bones shattering on the first impact with a rocky outcropping... sharper pains of something internal rupturing came with the second impact... her legs, lower abdomen, and one arm went sharply numb on the third... and the fourth finally brought darkness.

 

The feeling began coming back as she woke up in her rented bed back in Ivrastead, and Lynn could imagine Cait leaning back in her computer chair... cursing and telling her streaming audience that she'd forgotten about that troll.

Actually, Lynn wasn't sure if she'd truly imagined that scene, or if it had really been a glimpse back into Cait's realm, but Lynn didn't want to think too hard about that... because that would mean that that awful dream hadn't been just a dream... and she especially didn't want to think about the other implications that came with that...

Chapter 12: The Haunted Barrow

But dream or not, it was a relief to be waking up, alive, warm, dry, and uninjured in her bed at the tavern. She was a little stiff from having been walking all day the day before, but that was all.

Lynn did her best to shake off the memories of having every bone in her body smashing to pieces on icy cliff faces, but when they got out to the tavern, innkeeper and other patrons getting started on their morning routines began to give Lynn déjà vu... a more intense and unpleasant déjà vu than she typically got from Cait's memories alone...

The feeling only got worse as they ate breakfast, and then, when they stepped outside and found it was a drizzly grey morning with the townsfolk all just going about their business, Lynn felt a compulsion to head for the road up the mountain which only made her dread grow. 

She took one step out into the misting drizzle and stopped stubbornly in her tracks, staring up at the cloudy sky...

"Yeah," she shook her head, thinking back on the troll and her shattering bones again as the light rain fell on her face. "Fuck that," she said firmly at the sky before turning around and going back inside the inn.

Lydia chuckled lightly and followed her. "Are we changing plans, my Thane?" She asked, sounding sympathetic and actually a bit hopeful.

"Yeah," Lynn repeated flatly, shaking her head again while she tried to think of what to do instead... "that drizzle's going to be freezing fog when we get up in elevation and I'm not prepared to deal with something like a frost troll getting the drop on us."

"Al...right then," Lydia nodded slowly, "are we relaxing until it clears up, or did you have something else in mind?" She asked curiously.

Lynn contemplated briefly if the only reason Lydia hadn't questioned her the day before was because she'd had a guess on what the plan was... 

Just then the bard helping the tavern keeper clear tables caught Lynn's eye and the conversation they'd been eavesdropping on the night before came back to mind...

"You wanna go investigate that so-called haunted barrow?" She asked looking to Lydia thoughtfully.

"That would at least be out of the rain," Lydia shrugged.

"Exactly," Lynn nodded, "and dealing with draugr sounds better than a frost troll."

Lydia looked amused but didn't comment on whatever thought she'd just had. Instead she just nodded, "then as you will, my Thane," she agreed with a smile.

Lynn nodded and turned back to the door. Once outside she felt the compulsion to go back toward the mountain again, but she refused to follow it. She stalked determinedly off instead for the old barrow on the hill behind the inn.

Once she got into the barrow, the compulsion to turn back to the mountain faded and she felt a good bit better to be out of the cold drizzle.

The barrow was a bit smaller than Bleakfalls Barrow had been, but the puzzles and traps were more annoying. Lynn was realizing in amusement that this had not been something Cait had bothered doing in her last few play-throughs, and she didn't remember it as well as other things. Lynn actually felt like she got to figure things out on her own. She was rather proud of herself once the man masquerading as a ghost was actually dead.

She also couldn't remember if Cait had ever bothered reading the elf's journal to figure out why this crazy guy was pretending to be a ghost in the first place. Lydia seemed to be just as curious as Lynn was as they sat down in the now-dead man's hideout.

"It's practically homey in here," Lydia commented in confused curiosity.

"Yeah, he was up to something," Lynn agreed, flipping through the journal...

Though, the more she read, the less keen she was on spending time there...

"Ok..." Lynn said slowly once she'd finished reading, "maybe this place actually is haunted," she said uncomfortably as she handed the journal to Lydia.

"Wait, really?" Lydia asked, beginning to flip curiously through the journal.

"Yeah, just not by him," Lynn nodded grimly getting to her feet. She looked around the makeshift living space again, pocketing some coins, gems, and potions while Lydia quickly skimmed the journal entries.

"I see what you mean," she said uncomfortably a few moments later, "it's like he slowly lost his mind... and this last entry... how can it be dated from the first era?"

"That's the last date the actual vengeful spirit of the barrow remembers?" Lynn shrugged.

"You think it possessed him?" Lydia said looking suddenly more warily around.

"It would explain his behavior," Lynn replied with another shrug, "he hung around so long looking for this claw he couldn't find he slowly forgot what he was doing and the guardian of the barrow possessed him..."

"It does make sense..." Lydia frowned. "I'm glad it looks like it took awhile to happen, but I still don't like the sound of staying here longer than we have to."

"Agreed," Lynn nodded, "let's take this journal to that innkeeper and tell him he was right."

"I'm right behind you," Lydia nodded, looking just as eager as Lynn was to get out of there. She did one last check for valuable loot, and then hurried back out the winding tunnels they'd come in through.