Chapter 1: Helgen
Chapter Text
So this was going to be her end. Knees inches deep in muddy soil, cheek pressed to a sodden tree stump and eyes facing Skyrim's cold, blue sky. Funny, it looked so much like her mother's eyes. She could almost hear her voice, playfully pestering her after an alchemical experiment gone wrong.
The memory prompts a sting of homesickness in her chest. If she concentrates really hard, she can almost imagine being home in High Rock. Closing her eyes, she does her best to ignore the scent of copper and the slippery, warm, liquid beneath her head. She takes a deep breath through her nose. Snowberries and mountain flowers. Metal and wet, salty earth.
''Nice and easy prisoner.'' - the sentence takes her out of the frail safe space she has created for herself. She squints through wet lashes and spots the headman getting ready to swing. This is it, the Breton thinks, this is the end of all my stories. Panic rises in her throat, but she swallows it, it won't help her now. If she faces her end, she will face it with courage.
A roar. Loud and violent, like nothing she's ever heard before. Then, a black shape takes form beneath the headman. A giant shape- no, a monster with wings as big as a house and a head the size of a horse, flies towards the tower. It lands on top of it and she can see its chest glow. The impact of its body makes the ground shake. The man in front of her topples over, his axe ready to split her skull, and she rolls away at the last second. The roaring pulsates in her ears and skull, her head pounds and her vision is shaky. Then, fire. The beast takes deep breaths, chest glowing like embers, and spews hot, liquid flames over the opening. The headman who tried to end her life a few seconds ago is hit in the back. In mere seconds, he's engulfed in flames. She looks at his face and sees his silent terror, watches him try to scream with burned vocal cords.
Death is everywhere. The fire spreads rapidly from building to building, spitting hot ash on the citizens below. Parents scream after their children, the imperial generals yell for their archers and in the sky, above it all is the giant black monster roaring.
''Hey you! Breton!'', the blonde Stormcloak from the cart earlier yells at her, ''Come on, get up!'' He grabs her arm and hoists her onto her feet. He has blood smeared over his armor and face, and one side of his tunic is slightly charred. ''This way!'', he screams and pulls her with him. Together they make their way to another tower of the keep, though it is hard to determine which with ash falling from the sky and the village in flames. The blonde pulls her through the door before slamming it shut and turning around.
They are not the only ones who used this tower as a refuge. Two injured Stormcloaks are huddled on top of some sleeping rolls, while another tall man stands above. Jarl Ulfric from Windhelm, if she remembers correctly. ''Jarl Ulfric!'' her blonde companion walks up to him, ''What in Oblivion is that thing? Could the legends be true?" The panic in his voice is eminent. The other man, Ulfric, seems to be entirely unfaced by this whole ordeal. ''Legends don't burn down villages." he replies with a low, calm voice. Even earlier on the cart, he had exuded a sense of calmness and authority, despite being gagged. Now, he had gotten rid of his binds, and his voice cuts through the room like a knife, ''We need to move, now!'' The last sentence was an order barked to the two injured soldiers in the room. The blonde soldier quickly helps his comrades stand up, and she tries to help, well, as best as she can with her hands still bound.
She is about to ask one of them to cut her loose, but Jarl Ulfric interrupts her, ''Up through the tower!", he barks, ''Let's go!'' They sprint up the stone steps, supporting the injured soldiers as they go. One of them gathers all the strength he has left and presses forward. Without warning, the stone wall next to him combusts in a fiery explosion. A cobblestone the size of his head smashes his breastplate in, which is the last thing she sees before his body is buried beneath tons and tons of hot stone. She tumbles a few steps backwards, nearly falls before she catches her balance and presses her back to the wall. Not a second too late. The black dragon spits a burst of flames though the hole in the wall. She feels the unbearably hot air on her face and screams, turning her face away and against the wall. Then, the monster leaves again, ready to look for other victims.
Carefully, her and her blond companion ascend the few steps until they reach the man-sized hole in the tower. He throws a grim look her way. ''I fear there's no other way.'', his expression hardens, ''See the inn over there? You need to jump on the roof and keep going.'' Fear rises in her throat. The roof is surely 10 feet away from the hole, and the hole in the tower is much higher than the inn's roof. There's no guarantee she'll survive a jump from this height, especially with her hands tied. Her companion seems to sense her fear and gently lays a hand on her shoulder, ''I'll join you down there as soon as I get Ulfric and me out of here. You can do this, Breton.''. So, she takes all the courage she has left and jumps.
The fall feels like it lasts a lifetime, even though it can't be longer than a few seconds. The impact punches the air from her lungs. She can hear something crack and an intense, hot pain runs from her ankle up to her knee. Screaming, she topples over and barely manages to catch herself on her bound hands. The pain in her leg is so intense, her vision is swimming and vibrating around her as she turns on her back. To her surprise, there's no bone sticking out. A piece of wood has lodged itself in her thigh, and if the purplish bruises are any indication, she seems to have sprained her ankle. The roaring above and the shaking ground beneath her remind her of her dire situation. Quickly she starts robbing forward, pulling her injured leg after her, until she reaches a hole in the floor. Somehow, she manages to drop through the hole without damaging her leg further (and without falling to the ground, again). After slipping through an opening in the wall, she finds herself in the middle of the village.
In front of her is the Imperial soldier who tried to stop her assassination, aiding the townsfolk and screaming orders at the Imperial archers. ''Still alive? Good.'', he yells at her and gestures with his hand, ''Stick close if you want to keep that way. Follow me, I need to join the defense.'' She isn't sure if it is even possible to defend a village from a beast like this. Nonetheless, she stays quiet and limps after him.
They make their way through the village and towards the keep, all while the dragon still terrorizes from above. Her leg hurts. Running feels like torture, and she knows she's still losing blood. The brunette Imperial suddenly stops in front of her, and she peeks past him. The blonde Stormcloak is in front of him, though without Jarl Ulfric. She catches herself wondering if he died during the attack. The imperial interrupts her thoughts, ''Ralof, you damned traitor. Get out of my way!'' he seethes and unsheathes his sword. The Stormcloak, Ralof, yells back ''We're escaping Hadvar. You can't stop us! Come with me, prisoner!'' Suddenly both men stare at her. She could stay with Hadvar, who seemed to know the area and its people well. Then she remembers her execution and makes her decision. With clenched teeth, she limps over to Ralof and Hadvar grunts, ''Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!''
The first thing she notices once inside the keep is the quiet. Her ears are still rumbling from all the noise outside. Ralof walks towards a corpse clad in Stormcloak armor. Kneeling down, he whispers a few words to him.
She uses the time to inspect the wound on her thigh. The piece of wood is still stuck in there, and it would be unwise to remove it now. If she only had her alchemy kit. But the Imperials took her belongings as they caught her crossing the borders and by now, it was probably burned to a crisp.
''That thing was a dragon. No doubt.'', Ralof sounds exhausted, ''Just like the childhood stories my mother used to tell me.'' She answers with an apologetic look. Her mother never talked of dragons, but she's sure, if any monster would fit the description she knows, it'd be the giant thing outside the keep.
''We better get going. Come here, I'll get those bindings off.'', Ralof cuts through the bindings with a dagger, ''I'm Ralof by the way. From Riverwood.''
''I'm Vivienne,'' she answers, glad to finally have her hands freed, ''from Evermore.''
''Evermore? In High Rock?'', Ralof turns to rummage through his dead comrade's pockets, ''You're a long way from home then.''
She shrugs and rips a piece of fabric off her trousers to wrap it around her thigh, ''I was on my way to the College in Winterhold when I got caught.''
''Ah, a mage then.'', Ralof answers, and she can hear a sense of apprehension in his voice. She's used to that, especially from Nords, so she ignores it.
''You can take his things,'', he gestures to the corpse, ''he won't be needing them any longer, and I think you could use something else to wear.
He turns around while she dresses, and she's thankful for it. The Stormcloak attire is way too big for her, it's so long it could count as a dress. The breeches are even larger, and Vivienne has to wrap the belt around her hips twice before they stop slipping. The boots are way too big as well, and she stuffs her linen trousers in one of them to support her sprained ankle. What she would do for a simple healing potion right now. After she's done dressing, she takes the Iron Axe out of the corpses hand. Divines, she is horrible with blunt weapons like these, but she can't afford to be picky in times like these.
After she's done, her and Ralof start looking for a way out of the keep. The only door that they can open from their side is locked and Ralof tries his best at picking the lock when all of the sudden voices start to get closer and the flickering light of torches illuminates the hallway next to them.
''Imperials!'', Ralof hisses and unsheathes his sword, ''Get ready for a fight!''
Vivienne gulps. She's not a warrior. She's a mage, an alchemist sometimes but the only living beings she had killed before were wolves and the occasional mudcrab down at Iliac Bay. Not humans. There's no time for her ethical dilemma, she realizes and lifts her axe. Seconds later a squad of three soldiers open a gate across of them and then there's chaos.
Two of them immediately target Ralof, who promptly fights back while another soldiers runs towards her with a drawn sword in hand. Vivienne lifts her axe and parries his first hit. There's so much force behind his sword that she feels the impact in her clenched teeth. The soldier doesn't give up easily. Hits crackle down on her and her vision blurs. Later, after she already escaped, she finds she can not recall what precisely happened after that. She remembers the yells in the air, the smell of metal and copper, the sound of swords clashing, but no memory of her actions. The first thing she sees again is Ralof, impaling the soldier in front of her, and the other two corpses littered around him.
They fight their way through the keep. Well. Ralof fights his way through the keep. Vivienne tries her best to stay out of harm's way and not get hit. As they reach the kitchens, she finds a healing potion which she downs in one go. Immediately, the pain in her leg lessens. Usually she'd be careful with the effects of a healing potion used on wounds like these. Especially minor potions could do more harm than good. The tissue had to be mended correctly and small potions like these were not made for that. Today, it didn't matter.
After fighting an Imperial torturer (Vivienne relieves him of his magicka potions, it's not like he needs them anymore), they meet more Stormcloak soldiers and together they make their way through the basement.
Vivienne tries to stay away from the fighting as much as possible. Nonetheless, as one of the Imperial archers falls, she takes his bow and arrows. Finally a weapon she might be able to use, and if only to fight off a wolf.
A shaft breaks down behind them as her and Ralof make their way through the caves below the basement and they're alone again. The only enemies they find after that are a few spiders and a bear, and this time Vivienne helps by using her bow from a distance. After that, they sprint through the remaining caves beneath Helgen Keep and then they're outside.
Vivienne can't remember a time where she was happier about seeing the sun than right now. It's cold, of course it is, but the air is fresh and she is alive, and that's what counts. She laughs, spinning in a circle and relishing in the feeling of fresh air on her face. It feels like cold water on her sweaty an dirty skin.
Then, a roar. Both of them panic, scrambling close to the rocks to hide from the monster. Vivienne tries to calm her breathing and sends a silent prayer to Mara.
The black-winged beast circles above them once, twice, before he flaps his wings and flies away. His silhouette grows smaller and smaller on the horizon.
Vivienne relaxes against the stone wall and closes her eyes. She's never been this tired before. When did she last sleep? On the carriage last, she guesses. That was this morning, now it's early evening, so it hasn't even been that long. Still, she's bone tired. And sleeping on a carriage does not really result in calm rest either.
''I think he's gone for good'', Ralof sighs and she opens her eyes again. He's still looking at the horizon, trying to make out a black shape. But there is nothing. The dragon is gone. ''No way to know if anybody else made it out alive. But this place will be swarming with Imperials soon. We should leave.''
Right, her execution. She's sure it was a mishap, that the Imperials took her for a Stormcloak and that's why she was imprisoned. Still, there's no guarantee they won't kill her now to keep her quiet.
So she nods and stands up, ''Thank you for your help, Ralof. I would be dead if it weren't for you.''
The Nord smiles at her and squeezes her shoulder, ''The same goes for you, my friend.", then he turns away, ''I think it's best if we split up for now. Imperials will likely think I turned you into a Stormcloak."
He has to supress a chuckle, "If you turn west, you might make it to Falkreath before it gets dark.''
Ralof looks at her, ''If you ever need anything, my sister runs the mill in Riverwood. She'd gladly help you out. Good luck.''
They share a last look and then Ralof jogs away and Vivienne is alone.
Skyrim is cold. She has known that before she left High Rock, of course, but to feel it in person was something else entirely.
She's unsure what she should do now. Her plan was to cross the border close to Markath and then head to Winterhold to enter the college. But then the Imperials caught her and she was arrested.
She probably spent three weeks on that damned cart. Not for the first time she wishes she was back on her mother's farm just outside of Evermore.
Vivienne keeps pushing forward, walking west until the cold, snowy forest ground turns into a cobblestone road.
What would her mother say to her now? Vivienne knows it was difficult for her mother to let her go. She's her only child now and her mother is all alone in that big farm with nobody but the occasional farmhand helping her out.
She's probably worried sick.
Vivienne sighs and nearly trips over a rock on the road. Are her eyes always this heavy? The sun sets behind the forest and still, no Falkreath in sight. Vivienne begins to wonder if Ralof lied to her, if he sent her in the wrong direction.
The forest grows darker and only the stars in the sky keep her company. Vivienne is freezing. Her hands feel like solid stone, and her leg throbs in the harsh cold. Blood drips out of the makeshift-bandage and runs down her calf.
Then, light in front of her. Just a glimpse of yellowish flickering. A torch perhaps?
Vivienne gathers all of the strength she has left and hurries forward. Her eyes are fixed on the light, the torch flickering in the distance and she gets faster, faster, the road curves down and she's nearly there- a rock beneath her injured foot stops her and she topples over.
The last thing she hears are hurried footsteps before she plants into the ground and her vision turns black.
Chapter 2: Dead Man's Drink
Summary:
So Vivienne survived Helgen, Who would've thought. She certainly didn't. o.0
And what a strange dream...
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Vivienne runs through a wasteland of fire and blood. Corpses litter the road in front of her, dead eyes staring at her. Her mothers, her sisters, men and mer. People she knows and people she has never seen before.
She is clad in armor that was made to fit her, it seems. Black leather and... ebony? She doesn't have time to admire the mineral glimmering in the light of the fire. There's something she has to do. There's terror in her chest, swirling like a wild river and clouding her judgment. She wants to run away, wants to hide in a hole and never come out again.
But there's also anticipation. She knows what awaits her. She has trained for this. She has to do this.
And, Vivienne thinks, she's not alone. There's someone there with her. She can't see him, but she feels his presence next to her as if they've known each other forever.
Together they run, past the corpses, past the fire. She doesn't know the destination, but she thinks, if he's with her, then they'll figure it out together.
A voice speaks, a woman, but Vivienne can't make out the words. In her head, they transform into her mother's.
''You were always too curious for your own good, my dear Vienne.'', Vivienne listens and smiles.
The women's voice gets louder, and she looks around, looking for the source of the sound, but there is nobody. Just her and this man that she seems to know, this... What is his name?
Vivienne opens her eyes with a startled gasp and the forgotten memory of a name on her lips.
The first thing she notices is the linen beneath her. She's on a bed. A real bed. After weeks of sleeping in a sitting position on a hard, uncomfortable, wooden bench on a cart on top of that, this feels heavenly.
It's not a luxurious bed at all. The linen is scratchy, the mattress filled with straw and the blanket has various stains in various colors, but it's warm and clean.
The second thing she realizes is the room itself. The wooden walls, the varying furniture in the corners, the smell of stew and fresh bread in the air. Is that a lute playing as well?
She must be in an inn. The room doesn't look all that personal, safe the books stacked on the bedside table, and she can hear faint talking outside the door.
It's after these realizations when she notices the young woman at her bedside.
Vivienne wonders how she overlooked her at all. The women... or… girl? has short reddish hair and brown eyes. Two braids frame her head and her smoky eyes. She looks young, younger than Vivienne, but the revealing clothing she wears says otherwise. A green dress, embroidered with gold and with a scandalously low neckline. Heavy gold jewelry decorates her arms and jingles whenever she moves.
Her eyes, which were halfway closed before, are fully open now and she stands up.
''You're awake!'', she whisper-shouts before turning her head, ''Valga! She finally woke up!''
Another woman enters the room a few seconds later.
She's taller and older, with long dark hair and the same dark brown eyes. She's dressed in a simple Innkeeper's attire, and a dirty dishcloth hangs over her shoulder.
Vivienne tries to say something, ask where she is for a start, but the only thing that leaves her dry lips are coughs. Her throat is as dry as the desert, she realizes.
''Shhh,'' the younger girl lifts a goblet filled with up to her lips and Vivienne gulps it down greedily. Cold, fresh water rinses away the ashes from Helgen, and she sighs contentedly.
''Not so fast!'', the girl lifts the goblet again, ''You'll get sick after such a long time with an empty stomach.''
Vivienne doesn't trust her voice and nods, focusing on her body beneath the blankets. Someone undressed her, she realizes and feels her cheeks heat up.
She's definitely not wearing the Stormcloak armor anymore, instead she's clad in a simple cotton dress, she thinks.
The injury on her thigh is dressed in a linen bandage, and she glides her fingers over the fabric. It's still sensitive, but it doesn't hurt as much as it did... yesterday? How long did she sleep for?
''We found you three days ago in the middle of the night in front of the south gate. You were almost frozen solid.'' Valga explains as if she could read her mind, ''You one of them Stormcloaks?''
Valga raises one of her eyebrows in question.
''No.'', Vivienne shook her head, ''My name is Vivienne Penelle. I'm from Evermore in High Rock. I came to Skyrim to visit the College of Winterhold when Imperial soldiers mistook me for a Stormcloak and took me prisoner. They took me, and a group of Stormcloak soldiers, and brought us to Helgen where we were to be executed.'', she stops explaining. Would anyone believe her if she tells them of the Dragon? Even to her own ears, the story sounds crazy.
''And then what?'', both women look at her, Valga in suspicion and the redhead in earnest curiosity.
Vivienne takes a deep breath, ''I know this may sound crazy, trust me, even I doubt my story. There was a dragon in Helgen. He attacked before I was executed, the city is in ruins.''
Both women exchange a knowing look.
''So the stories are true after all.'', Valga sighs and rubs her temple, ''Some of the residents here claim to have seen a black-winged shape in the sky, merely a few days ago. I didn't believe it until now, but your burn wounds and injuries speak for themselves.''
''It was terrible.'', Vivienne shudders as she thinks back, ''Women and children burned on the streets. Soldiers dying like flies. I didn't think I'd make it out alive.''
Valga doesn't have an answer for her last sentences.
''Well m'lady, I'm not a healer, but I think you're gonna live.'', she says after a few long seconds, ''My mother showed me a few useful tricks for nasty blemishes like these. Hopefully the swelling will go down in the next few days.''
Valga is right, the Ice wraith's teeth in the bandage around her ankle have done wonders for her injury, Vivienne thinks as she tries her best to walk around the room. She will be up and about in the next few days. 'And then what?'' a nasty little voice in her head says, 'You have no money, you will never make it to the College on your own'.
Vivienne shakes her head, as if to banish these thoughts and opens the wooden door to the main room of the inn.
The 'Dead Man's Drink' is rather full this evening. A bunch of Village residents have found their way inside to relax, drink and get the latest gossip. Narri, the redhead, plays songs on the lute while twirling her green skirts next to the fire. Coins clink, and wooden chairs are pulled over the hard, stone floor. It's just like the Inns Vivienne always thought she'd find in Skyrim.
Suddenly she feels self-conscious. 'You don't belong here', an inner voice whispers again. She shrugs the voice off, broadens her shoulders and steps confidently, well, limps confidently towards the bar, where Valga awaits.
''There you are.'', a bowl of stew is put in front of her as she sits down, and Vivienne, just realizing how hungry she is, digs in.
''Maybe...'', Valga's voice turns into a whisper, ''Maybe keep a little low with your story at Helgen. Tales like these spread like dragon fire''- Vivienne grimaces at the irony -''and I don't think people here would take that all too lightly.''
Vivienne nods. Valga's right. The news would spread soon enough, and she didn't even know if the empire was still looking for her. It'd be best to lie low for a few days and to find a way to make some money.
She sighs. Easier said than done. She is a horrendous fighter, so mercenary work would never work. Neither does she own any valuables to sell. She could make potions and sell them, but gathering, brewing and selling would take her weeks, if not months.
''Well, don't you look happy?'', Valga hands her a cup of Snowberry mead while eyeing her suspiciously, ''Septim for your thoughts?''
Vivienne supposes it wouldn't do any harm to ask Valga for available jobs, after all she needed the money to pay her back as well.
''I lost all my belongings on my journey here...'', Vivienne swallows, careful not to draw too much attention. A flicker of understanding passes Valga's face.
''I understand.'', she nods, ''Well, there's a hefty bounty from the Thalmor right now. They're looking for a red-eyed swordsman and promise to pay a huge deal if someone has any information about him.''
''They don't want someone to turn them in?'', Vivienne asks curiously, tasting the sweet Snowberry mead.
''Not as far as I know. They said he was last seen around here and any Information will be handsomely rewarded.'', Valga takes Vivienne's empty bowl and fills it up again.
A red eyes swordsman. How difficult can it be to shadow someone?
She feels terrible for potentially selling someone out, to the Thalmor of all people, but she hardly has any other choice. And besides, who knows why the Thalmor are looking for him.
Days pass peacefully in the small city.
Falkreath is beautiful, reminds her a lot of the Viridian Woods back home. Sure, it rains a lot and there's barely any sun, and there's a giant inside joke about Falkreath owning the largest cemetery. But the air smells like resin and rain and various flowers. Vivienne, still without any gold, tries her best to support Valga and Narri in the Dead Man's Drink. She helps serve customers, she washes linens and wash cloths in the freezing lake and helps with the cooking.
Every day, her leg feels better and after four days, a week after she collapsed in front of the gate, she can put her full body weight on it again. It is now the 16th of Sun's Dusk, and the nights are colder than ever. Lake Ilinalta has nearly frozen solid, or so travelers report, and Falkreaths forests are covered in fine snow.
It is in the morning of the 17th of Sun's Dusk when Vivienne sets out to find this mysterious red eyed swordsman. Valga has supplied her with supplies for about two weeks and appropriate clothing, and a patron gifted her his old camping supplies and map, hoping that she will make some use of them. And she will, she is sure of it.
It takes her almost an entire day to reach Lake Ilinalta and then another half day to find an empty camp. Theres a knapsack there with a book and some supplies. The camp looks recently abondend and so Vivienne consults her map.
The next Inn is in Riverwood and so she keeps traveling east.
It takes her two whole days to reach Riverwood. It is a small village with a big mill and a few small houses. There's nothing truly special about it, but it's quite cozy and Vivienne heeds Ralofs words.
She talks to his sister Gerdur, who tells her that Ralof already left for Windhelm but invites her in nonetheless. just like Valga and Narri, Gerdur and her husband Hod graciously share their belongings with her about which she's very greatful.
They cook together and Vivienne shares her story of Helgen, and even though they've heard it already, they listen intensely. Gerdur asks her if she can travel to Whiterun to let the Jarl know about the Helgen attack and Vivienne promises that she will travel to Whiterun as soon as she finishes this bounty.
There even is a spare bed for her and Vivienne appreciates a good nights rest without freezing her toes off.
In the morning she thanks the couple and makes her way to the inn where she consults the Inkeep, a grim looking woman named Delphine. Thankfully, the Nord woman knows of the bounty and the Divines are on her side it seems, she has seen the red-eyed Swordsman.
When Vivienne asks about him, she shrugs, ''Well, big fellow, red eyes and he had a weird sword too. Didn't talk much, just told Orgnar that he's headed towards Ivarstead.''
Vivienne deflates. Ivarstead. She'd take at least a week to reach the town if her map was correct. And she isn't even sure if she will find the mysterious man or if she will have to continue looking.
But then something in her blooms. She made the decision to come to Skyrim, to this strange, cold, unforgiving land and she had sworn herself she could do it. She would not back down now.
After departing from Riverwood, Vivienne takes the road to Whiterun. It leads her through snowy forests, down the mountains until she reaches white, yellow graslands. It gets warmer the further north she walks and she's thankful for it. This close to Whiterun she can even bathe without freezing her buttocks off. Sure, the water is still ice-cold but it is still a huge difference from Falkreaths frozen lakes.
Whiterun she only sees from a distance. It looks very imposing with its great castle, Dragonsreach, throwing its shadow on the grassy plane below. Instead of walking towards it, though, she turns left and walks through the pass between the mountains.
Thankfully, the dangers keep themselves at bay. Now and then a lone wolf or a mudcrab tries to end her life, but no bears, no sabre cats, no bandits and most importantly, no dragons. It's as if the Divines themselves understood that Vivienne had to endure a lot the past few weeks and now they went a little easy on her.
After five days that luck seems to dwindle. Most of the distance between her and Ivarstead was behind her, and even though her rations were low, she was in good spirits.
Tundras Cotton grows like a weed here so she stops now and then to collect some. As soon as she finds a mortar she can grind them into a fine powder which can be used for magicka potions.
Around noon Vivienne spots a tall tower in front of her. Half an hour later she notices the second one right behinf the first tower. They seem to be some kind of bridge over the river. Squinting, she can make out shapes in front of the entrances. People, she thinks, and suddenly her cheerfulness diminishes.
Another half an hour later, Vivienne reaches the two towers. A tall, burly woman stands in front of the entrance, arms crossed and clad in leather armor.
''Hold it. This is a toll road.'', she spits on the ground, ''You're gonna have to pay 200 septims if you want to use our road.''
Viviennes heartbeat quickens. She doesn't have that sum of money and she's hardly credible enough to convince them to let her pass without paying.
''This is a shakedown.'', she tries it nonetheless, ''I don't have to pay you anything.''
She sure sounds a lot more confident than she feels, and suddenly she's very thankful that she brought her bow as well as the Stormcloak axe with her.
"Aren't you a smart one?'', the woman clicks her tongue and unsheathes her weapon. A war hammer, Vivienne notices, as tall as she is with a iron head sitting on top.
Then, they're fighting. The woman has, clearly, more experience than her and swings the heavy weapon like she was born to do so. But Vivienne is determined. Her opponent is talented and experienced, sure, but her choice of weapon slows her down. It takes her valuable seconds to lift the weapon and redirect it before she lets it crash down on Vivienne. Said Breton has her war axe in one hand and a burst of warm, tickling flames in the other.
Whenever her enemy comes close, she strikes with her axe. Finalle she manages to get some distance, concentrates and directs her open palm in the woman's direction.
Flames spew out of her finger, sailing in the air, twirling, until the burst of flames hits her enemies head and her hair goes into flames.
The woman screams, rolling on the grassy ground in hopes of putting the flames out but she's too late. The heat reaches her brain and in mere seconds, she falls over and dies.
Vivienne breathes heavily. The air smells like burned skin and charred hair. She takes one good look at the bandit woman, then she throws up in the nearest bush.
After she's done she wipes her mouth and approaches again, this time she knows what awaits her.
Charred skin at the temples, eyes wide open in terror and bloody gashes where Vivienne managed to hit her with her axe. Mixed feelings swirl in the Bretons chest. She's proud of herself, happy because she survived and deep down also because she knows this woman has killed dozens before her. On the other side she's disgusted, she's terrified. To kill another human being, the thought nearly makes her throw up again. But she doesn't. She grabs her things and looks up at the tall towers. Surely this woman wasn't the only bandit here. Gripping her iron axe, Vivienne enters the tower.
There's two more bandits in the towers. One of them trips on the slippery, wet bridge between the two towers while fighting her. His head hits a rock in the river and he drifts away. The other one, a tall blonde Nord, she hits with an arrow straight through his skull. And despite her disgust and fear, she is proud. Proud and confident.
She relieves the bandits of their gold, their supplies and alchemical ingredients and exchanges her iron axe for a steel sword. The Nord even carries a dwarfish bow which she immediately claims as her own. After she finishes, the sun is starting to set. Vivienne really doesn't want to sleep in one of the towers, even if they have a roof and bunch more pillows and blankets than she does. She speaks a prayer to Mara instaead, wishes peace upon the people she killed today and leaves some flowers in front of the entrance.
Tears trail down her cheeks as she keeps following the path until she feels calm enough to make camp. Sleep doesn't find her that night.
Notes:
As you may have noticed, I changed Kaidan's beginning quest. Otherwise, our dear Vivienne would've never sought him out. And then we'd be missing our love interest, lmao.
Tysm for reading <3
Chapter 3: Abandoned Prison
Summary:
Vivienne's dream ends as soon as it started. Or does it?
Chapter Text
The next morning is cold and foggy. Dew clings to the plants all around her tent, and hoarfrost covers the grass. She's still quite close to Whiterun, but it seems the area around the mountains is colder than Whiterun's grassy plains.
Vivienne shivers and quickly wraps herself in a woolen cloak she gathered the day before.
After a meager breakfast, she collects her belongings and consults her map. She didn't really walk far yesterday evening, just a few steps away from the towers. She is still right next to the White River, and the cobble street is just a few yards away. Vivienne shoulders her knapsack and follows the road towards Ivarstead.
Images still swirl in her mind like butterflies. Scorched skin and bloody gashes. She shudders. How did mercenaries cope with this stuff?
Vivienne thought of herself as anything but sensitive. Back in Evermore, she'd always accompany her aunt to the morgue, where they embalmed the dead so they could receive their last goodbyes. She has seen her fair share of dead bodies. Divines know she isn't a stranger to death.
But killing someone, a living being with thoughts and dreams and aspirations. That was a whole other deal.
Sure, they tried to kill her as well, and would've done so without even thinking twice. But still, even in their mishaps, Vivienne can imagine them as young adults, trying to find their way in life. Not everyone is as lucky as her, with a roof over her head and loved ones who took care of her.
In the distance, she can catch a glimpse of a tomb through the woods. Shuddering, she decides to walk a big circle around it, to avoid further interaction with possibly dangerous inhabitants. She knows she has to get her shit together and deal with her ethical dilemma sooner or later, but for now, she wants to grieve her pacifist attitude in peace.
Lost in her thoughts, she doesn't see the blond traveler until he's right in front of her.
"Well met, Traveler." he lifts his hand and smiles. He looks safe enough, Vivienne supposes. Blonde hair decorates his head, long enough to drape over green traveling attire, and a lute is strapped to his back.
"On your way to Ivarstead?" he asks cheerfully, and Vivienne's last doubts dwindle. This man is either a monk or, based on the instrument on his back, a traveling bard.
"Yes, actually. And where is your destination, if I may ask?'', They face each other.
''Ah, well," the traveler gestures to his lute, "I'm a bard by trade. I go wherever the road leads me and share stories and songs. What is it you're looking for in Ivarstead, if I may ask?"
Vivienne's eyes harden. He doesn't seem dangerous, but what does she know after all? There are so many dangers lurking behind every corner in this unfamiliar land.
The bard senses her unease, it seems.
He turns his head as if to check if he's being followed, and he adds much quieter: "Be careful in Ivarstead, milady. Thalmor swarm the village like flies. If I were you, I'd look for another destination."
"Thalmor?", she asks curiously. Surely this can't be a coincidence.
"They spent the last weeks looking for a swordsman. Asked the whole town about it." The words of the bard are hushed, as if he's scared of being watched. "As far as I know, they caught him already. A whole pack of them left the town a few days ago. The rest is staying behind to check for any accomplices of his."
Vivienne can't believe her ears. She traveled up to two weeks through this cold, unforgiving country, and now they caught this man already? What about her plans? She already feels the dream of college and magical education fly far away.
The bard must've interpreted her grim expression in his own way, "Well, milady, if you have urgent business in Ivarstead, it'll be safe enough. The Thalmor are suspicious of outsiders, but if you're honest and upright, you will be safe."
He sends an encouraging smile her way. Even though Vivienne's frustrated, she smiles back. He only wants to help, after all.
"One last warning, though, milady," the bard says, "keep away from the abandoned prison across the bridge. I overheard the Thalmor ask a lot of questions about it, and that's a bad sign."
He shoulders his knapsack again, "Take care, traveler. May Kynareth guide you."
The bard sends her a last encouraging look, and she thanks him for the information. Then he steps away and leaves Vivienne to her thoughts.
Technically, her journey is at an end. The swordsman has been caught. There is no more money for her to earn. She has failed.
Vivienne buries her face in her hands. Her mother was right after all. This strange land isn't made for her. She'll never make it to the college. Since she arrived, she got imprisoned, nearly executed, and burned to a crisp, and is indebted to multiple people.
Eventually, Vivienne decides to sleep it over. She can decide in the morning if she wants to return home. But this time, she wishes to spend the night in a real bed. The bandits in the tower didn't have a lot of coins on them, but Vivienne reckons she has gathered enough money for a simple bed.
After this journey, she decides she has earned herself the privilege of a real rest and a warm bowl of stew.
Going to Ivarstead would be reckless, especially with all the Thalmor there. Vivienne doesn't think she's actively being searched. After all, almost every Imperial soldier in Helgen who knew her face died that day. But one can never be too careful.
There's a mill on her map, a few hours away from here. Maybe she can spend her night there.
So she keeps walking, though less cheerful than before. Next to her, the White River splits into two smaller streams. She crosses one of them a little later. Then, the road forks. The road to Ivarstead is straight ahead, but to get to the mill, she has to take the left path.
After almost an hour of walking, she sees the other arm of the White River again. It swirls through the forest and plummets a few feet down. Water rumbles and sprays over the rocks. The noise is deafening.
Vivienne takes a moment to admire the scenery. Cold and wet as it is, it is still beautiful.
Suddenly, she spots it.
Built into the natural stone of the waterfall is a small tower. Ivy ranks down the old walls, and it's so overgrown with moss that it's difficult to make out. That must be the tower the bard mentioned.
Something tugs inside of her. Like an invisible string attached to this tower, which is pulling her closer and closer. It feels like an ultimatum.
'If you don't go now,' an inner voice whispers, 'you'll regret it for the rest of your life.'
Vivienne should leave; she really should. She should swap the voices away like flies and continue her way to the mill, have a good night's rest, and make her way back to High Rock. Maybe even repay Valga on her way there if she manages to earn any more gold.
Her mother always said her curiosity would bring more harm than good. 11
Vivienne walks up to the rocky slope. There is a small path there; if she's careful, she can make it down to the River and cross it by using the felled trees as a makeshift bridge.
Before her rational mind can stop her, she is already making her way down, one hand always on the rocks for leverage. If she slips here, she'll surely drown. Vivienne is not a bad swimmer, quite the opposite, actually. With her farmhouse so close to the Bjoulsae River, her mother thought it was important to teach her how to swim at a very young age.
Nonetheless, the river below is not only ice-cold but also much larger than the Bjoulsae River back home. She has to be careful.
There's a small cabbage at the shore of the river, she notices once she's climbed down. A felled tree seems to have crashed into the roof, killing its inhabitants. She squints through one of the moldy holes in the wall and sees nothing but an old bed and a few baskets. On the ground lies a long, carved stick for hiking. She thanks Mara for the discovery and quickly grabs it.
The stick proves to be quite the find. She uses it to keep her leverage on top of the slippery tree log. To cross the river feels like it takes years, and when she reaches the other side, she has to take a break. She rummages for her waterskin and leans against the wet stone wall behind her.
What is her plan for inside the dungeon? Based on the tales of the bard, it is likely to be inhabited. She survived her first bandit encounter a few days back, but that was more luck than skill. She can't fight a whole pack of Thalmor justiciars and expect a happy ending.
In the end, she decides to use her bow. She is not tall, so sneaking shouldn't be a problem, and if she's lucky, she can eliminate her targets from behind. If there even are any.
Drawing her bow, Vivienne opens the rotten wooden door and closes it behind her. In front of her is a large, round staircase, leading down. The roof of the tower has partly deteriorated, and water drips down the moss and ivy growing on the stone walls.
There's the small sound of a stream of water dripping somewhere, and Vivienne strains her ears to listen more intently. Blessed be her Breton heritage; elven hearing really is a blessing.
There is no other sound to be heard, though, so she continues down the staircase.
One of the two hallways collapsed centuries ago, it looks like, so she redirects to the other one.
There's another staircase leading down inside of it, and she catches a glimpse of a torch flickering on the wall.
Doing her best to stay quiet, she sneaks down a few steps until she can spot a Thalmor figure sitting in the corner of the room.
She nocks an arrow and aims right at the bare spot between helmet and breastplate, then she lets the arrow fly.
It buries itself in the neck of her opponent and pierces his vocal cords. He sputters, spits blood, and then collapses on the chair.
Vivienne holds her breath. But there are no yells for defense, no hurried steps coming her way. It stays quiet, and she silently thanks Mara for it.
She sneaks down the last remaining steps. Her ears did not deceive her. The room is empty.
Vivienne rummages through the corpse's pockets. He carries a small iron key, and she pockets it, as well as the magicka potion he has strapped to his belt.
Since entering the abandoned building, the invisible pulling has only grown stronger. If she closes her eyes, she can almost see a faint golden rope, guiding her along the walls to her destination. She has no time to dwell longer on the subject.
A few steps further down, there's a storage room, of sorts. She finds multiple healing potions, which she gladly takes with her, and some arrows, which find their way into her quiver.
Another staircase down, and she finally, finally reaches the cells.
Water drips from the ceiling, there are small puddles on the floor, and she is careful to sneak around them. The air smells like rot and decay, dirty water and blood, and she tries her best to breathe through her mouth.
Every cell she passes is empty. The only inhabitants are age-old skeletons and rats, based on the quiet sounds in the dark corners.
Just then, in the last cell, she can see a torch flickering. Quietly, she makes her way down the hallway, ears straining for suspicious sounds. There's groaning, deep and masculine, and she squints.
As a matter of fact, there is a prisoner.
A tall man, on his knees, chained to the wall. His wrists are bound by shackles that hang so high on the wall that he is unable to kneel down, but he can't stand either. It must be insanely exhausting to hold this position.
His eyes are closed, and a red tattoo runs over the left side of his face, she notices. Long black hair falls down to his chest; it's matted and sticky with blood. Blood from his wounds, she thinks, as she observes the injuries on his upper body. There are countless whipping marks on his bare chest and arms, burn marks on his forearms, and he has bruises littered across his skin.
Vivienne's heart hurts for him. Whatever he has done, it can't be bad enough to deserve this type of punishment, she thinks.
How many poor souls have the Thalmor tortured like this in here?
She immediately feels guilty. The only reason she came here was to sell these bastards information. Shame rises in her throat like bile, and she forces herself to push the thought away. She'll have time to think about that later.
The invisible rope inside her tugs even stronger, pulls her in front of his cell, and she obeys, sneaking towards the gate. She takes the key out of her pocket and pushes it into the keyhole as quietly as she can. The iron door opens with a creak. It cuts through the silence like a knife.
The prisoner startles and lifts his head. His eyes are on her, and as Vivienne expected, they're red like a blood moon.
"When I get out of here, I'll kill you all myself.", there's so much hate and loathing in his voice, she takes a step back. If eyes could kill, she's sure she would burst into flames at this very second.
Vivienne kneels down like she would with a frightened animal and holds out her hands, empty of any weapon.
"Calm down. I'm here to help," she simply says and watches his red eyes switch from hostility to confusion and back to suspicion.
"What? Who are you?", he sounds desperate, and Vivienne can't blame him, "You're not with the Thalmor?"
There's hope in his last words, and his voice nearly cracks, "Quick, get me free from here before more come."
Vivienne halts and considers. There is still a chance that this man is a criminal and will kill her as soon as she unbinds him. She doesn't think his punishment is justified, but there has to be a reason why he's here, nonetheless.
But then she thinks of the connection that pulled her here. Her conscience tells her that this man will not harm her. And even if every logical brain cell inside her head screams at her to listen, she takes the iron key and unlocks his shackles.
As soon as his bonds are gone, he stumbles forward, barely holding himself up with his hands. Then he sits back on his knees and stretches his arms, a painful grimace on his face.
"Wait a second.", she whispers and rummages through her knapsack, "Here, drink this."
The healing potion will surely not heal any of the deep gashes across his back, but at least it will dull the pain for a few hours and take care of the bruises. He gulps it down in two swigs and sighs in relief. Then he stands up.
If Vivienne thought he was tall chained up, he's gigantic now. She isn't very tall, but even if she were, he'd absolutely tower over her.
Despite his bad posture after days of being chained up, her head only reaches his shoulders.
She's staring, she realizes and looks away, back in the direction she came from, "Come on, let's get out of here. My questions can wait until we're safe.", she says and takes a few steps.
He doesn't follow her, "Wait, there's one more thing. One of these bastards got his hands on my sword. I know I have no right to ask, but I could use your help getting it back."
She sighs and turns around, "The sword is that important?"
His expression hardens, "Listen, this is not me being sentimental. They kept asking about it. If it's that important to them, they shouldn't have it."
Vivienne has to admit, his explanation makes sense.
"Alright. Do you know where he went?" she asks and walks up next to him.
"He went further into the prison, and with any luck, he's cornered like a rat.", he says and gestures to the iron door to her left.
With a heavy heart, Vivienne unlocks the door. Barrels and chests line the stone wall, and she rummages through a few of them. She finds a bit of gold, a few handy potions, and a large steel warhammer, made for someone with the build of her companion. Vivienne nearly topples over as she tries to lift the weapon out of its chest.
"Here," she hands him the wooden handle, "in case it'll come to a fight."
Her companion thanks her and lifts the steel warhammer as if it weighs nothing more than a feather.
They quietly make their way up the stairs, and he's right, a black robed Thalmor justiciar awaits in one of the rooms on top of the staircase.
As soon as he takes notice of his now freed torture victim, he lifts his hand. Purplish black electricity begins to form on his fingertips.
Vivienne nocks an arrow and lands a shot right through his right hand before he can finish casting the spell. The Thalmor yells and cradles his hand.
Her companion takes over and slams the steel warhammer once, twice into his smaller body. Bones crack, and the Altmer drops to the ground.
The prisoner drops his weapon and begins to search the room. Vivienne inspects the Mer's dead body and swallows down the sickness rising in her throat, then she helps him.
After a few minutes, they locate a chest with all of his belongings. Big, heavy steel armor, camping supplies, and on top of it, a giant long sword with runes inscribed on the blade.
Her companion puts on his armor, and Vivienne turns around, even if he doesn't ask her to.
She's never met a fighter who was able to put on heavy armor by themselves. Usually, it took at least one other person to tighten the different clasps in the back. Even the knights that crossed through Evermore now and then always had a squire to help them dress and undress.
Her companion seems to know no such struggles. She hears one clasp close after the other and a few minutes later, he's finished.
Now he looks the part, Vivienne thinks as she looks at him again. Tall, clad in steel armor from head to toes, a giant sword on his back, and intimidating red eyes, mustering his surroundings. Weirdly enough, Vivienne still doesn't feel frightened. Her logical side is *screeching* at her to leave this prison as fast as possible and leave the man behind, but her conscience resists and tells her that she doesn't have to fear any harm from him.
"Son of a bitch had it coming.", he spits out and rips her from her ogling. He turns to face her, "I can't thank you enough for helping me out in there."
"Let's get out of here.", she suggests, and he nods.
Together, they make their way out of the dungeon. As she opens the wooden door again, she sees relief flicker over his face. He must have spent days down there, without fresh air or sunlight.
Crossing the river is even more dangerous now, with the sun slowly setting and him still injured, but somehow, they both make it back to the road without slipping.
Vivienne stills. She needs a new plan. The mill is too far away to reach before it gets dark, and both of them are wet and cold. If they don't warm up in the next few hours, they will likely get sick, and in his condition, that could mean his death.
Her companion interrupts her planning.
"Thank you again. I know you didn't have to help me. Listen," his words make her look up to him, "You saved my life in there, and I'm not a man who's comfortable being in debt. If you have need of me, I'd be glad to fight alongside you until that debt is repaid."
Vivienne doesn't know what to say. He looks at her expectantly, and she still feels that pull, as if he's important to her somehow and she doesn't know it yet. She thinks of her future, of the plans she had. She'd certainly be safe with a fighter like him traveling with her. They could make some money together, and when his debt is repaid, they could go their own ways. It's quite smart, actually.
She nods, "I'd be glad to have you travel with me."
"I am your sword and shield.", he speaks the oath and places one hand over his chest. Vivienne doesn't know what she's supposed to answer, so she simply nods and turns around.
"Let's find a place to camp. I fear it will rain soon, and we're both wet enough."
For half an hour, they travel silently through the woods. By the time they've found a good spot for camping, the sun has fully set. They're in the woods, beneath a big rock which hides their tents from curious eyes, or at least she hopes that it does.
Vivienne notices that her companion is tired, though he doesn't say anything about it. There are deep circles beneath his eyes, and every so often, he trips over various rocks and sticks on the forest ground. She feels empathy flare in her chest. Who wouldn't be tired after an experience like this?
They both set up their camp. Vivienne's small tent seems almost comical next to her companion's tent. Thankfully, the rain she anticipated did not arrive, and their tents and supplies stayed dry.
Vivienne decides to gather some branches for a fire, and after she's done, she lights them with a quick swerve of her wrist. Then she turns to her companion, who, she notices, is grimacing.
"I'd like to look at your wounds if I may... uh," she falters softly as she realizes that she doesn't know his name.
"Kaidan.", she hears a smile in his words even if his expression is as grim as ever, "I'm Kaidan."
"...Kaidan.", she continues and smiles at him, "I'm not a professional healer, but your wounds need tending, or they will infect."
Kaidan doesn't say anything, and she begins to think he doesn't want her to heal him when he starts unclasping his armor. She averts her eyes and pretends to study a handful of grass next to her.
Then, steel armor hits the ground, and she looks at him again. He has turned his back towards her. Deep, angry gashes reach from his shoulder blades to his lower back, and some are so deep she starts to question if she can help him at all.
Gritting her teeth, she walks up to him and kneels behind his back.
She concentrates and clasps her hands together. Memories flood her vision of her first healing spell.
She had learnt it when she was 8 years old. Her mother taught her after she had acquired a nasty scratch while climbing fruit trees near the city. Since then, she's used it more times than she can count. And she's quite proud of it as well.
Restoration has always been the school of magic that fascinated her the most. To knit bone and skin back together. To save from death.
Warmth tingles on her fingertips, like warm, golden liquid pooling around her hands. She extends them and touches his back, and Kaidan can't suppress the gasp that leaves his lips. Golden light twirls from behind her hands, and she focuses on his wounds, knits tissue back together, redirects his veins to support her with precious blood, and calms the irritated skin. She doesn't think the Thalmor used poisoned weapons, thank Mara, but she'd make him a broth with some wild garlic to support his poison resistance. You could never be too safe. The last thing she needs now is an infected wound.
The healing spells pull on her magicka. Nonetheless, she takes care of his chest and arms, too.
After she's finished, she's bone tired. It's been a long while since she spent so much magicka in one sitting, and her body isn't used to the sudden exertion. She should've drunk a magicka potion before casting.
Her head throbs, and her muscles protest even just lifting a finger.
Kaidan eyes her suspiciously as she finishes.
"You're a mage...", he states the obvious, but it sounds a bit like a question, and Vivienne nods tiredly.
Her eyes are so heavy, she's sure she could fall asleep right here on the forest ground. She stands up and stumbles, and Kaidan quickly lifts a hand to support her. She doesn't take it.
The last thing she needs now is him thinking she is weak.
"I'm fine," she murmurs, "Just tired. How do you feel?"
"Better," he answers, though he doesn't pull his hand away, "I never got your name either."
He looks almost sheepish.
"Vivienne Penell," she manages to mumble and reaches to untie her braid, "If it hurts again, just wake me up, okay? Don't want it to infect."
"Sleep.", he says, and she can hardly do anything but nod, "I'll take the watch."
Vivienne wants to tell him that he should wake her after a few hours and rest as well, but the words are stuck in her throat. She only mumbles a few sleepy words while kneeling down on her bedroll.
Kaidan watches her through the open flap of her tent while he puts on his armor again. Then, Viviennes' head hits the pillow and she's out like a light.
Chapter 4: Whiterun
Summary:
Vivienne and Kaidan reach Whiterun. The Jarl has a proposition for her.
Chapter Text
The sun wakes Vivienne the next morning. Soft, warm rays of sunshine fall through the fabric of her tent and tickle her skin. She wrinkles her nose and opens her eyes. The forest outside is bright, the sun already high in the sky.
Vivienne still feels depleted after last night. Her magicka is responding to her thoughts, but her body is still holding her back, warning her of dire consequences should she cast anything too difficult.
She rummages through her knapsack and gathers a magicka potion. Slowly, as not to overstrain her body, she swallows it in small sips.
Immediately, strength returns to her limbs. Her head feels clearer, and the fatigue from the day before slowly ebbs away. Still, she has to be careful. The potion will aid her magicka, but it can not replace it.
It must've rained in the night. The ground is wet as she steps outside, and the world smells of fresh wet earth and rainy trees.
She's a little confused as to why Kaidan let her sleep for this long. Surely, he wants to be up and far away from this area as soon as possible, given his imprisonment. It is certain that the Thalmor will keep looking for him, especially now that they killed two of their soldiers and got his sword back.
She peeks in the direction of his tent and finds her answer. Her tall companion leans on the flap of his tent, eyes closed. He is still wearing his armor, and his arms are crossed in front of his chest. He must've fallen asleep sometime in the night. Vivienne lets him sleep.
She would like nothing more than a warm breakfast to chase away the chill of the night, but the surrounding wood is way too wet, and she doesn't want to risk using her fire spells. Bread and water it is, she thinks and sighs.
After scouting their close surroundings for any danger, she sits down on her cloak and begins brushing her hair out with her fingers.
It has suffered greatly the past few weeks. Back in High Rock, it was her whole pride and joy. Long, blonde, nearly white, shimmering hair that almost reached her thighs. Every day, she had brushed and braided it, sometimes even adorned it with flowers.
Now, she has worn it in the same braid for over a week. Dirt and sweat have dulled the pretty bright color, and she's sure it must look almost gray by now. Nevertheless, she tries her best to untangle the long strands and braid them into an ordinary braid. Maybe later she'll have time for pretty hairstyles again. For now, it has to keep out of her face and stop tickling her arms while she moves.
Kaidan stirs in his sleep, and her eyes flicker to his tall figure.
Vivienne takes her time to really look at him. Yesterday, she only had the dim light of the prison, and then the moon to illuminate his features. Now, he is shrouded in sunlight.
He is about her age, she reckons. Maybe a little bit older. It's difficult to say with the rings under his eyes and the tension he carries in his face, even while sleeping. He's handsome, though, in his own way. His rugged appearance gives him a sort of roguish appeal.
The red tattoo she noticed yesterday is bigger than she anticipated. Red like blood, it wanders from his eyebrow down to his jawline in an unfamiliar symbol. His skin is a bit more tanned than hers, though he doesn't look like a Redguard. In fact, he doesn't look like a Nord either, despite his size.
Kaidan stirs again, and Vivienne barely manages to look away before he opens his eyes. She can feel his body tense as he glances over his surroundings before his eyes catch her, and he remembers the last few hours.
"How long did I sleep?" Kaidan asks hurriedly and stands up. A faint red blush creeps up his neck, and the way he averts his eyes, Vivienne almost thinks he looks... ashamed?
"I don't know," she says truthfully and shrugs her shoulders, "I woke up not long before you and found you fast asleep."
"Shit." Kaidan sighs and rubs the back of his neck, and turns around, leaving his thought unfinished. Then, he shields his eyes with his hands and locates the sun.
"We need to move soon. The prison wasn't well manned, but these bastards have connections in the entire country. There's probably already a pack of them on the way, searching for us."
Vivienne sighs and nods. He's right. She'd rather rest for a few minutes longer, but he's right.
They quickly pack their tents and supplies. Vivienne at least manages to cut a few pieces of stale bread for both of them, and then Kaidan quickly moves west. She has no other choice but to follow.
His pace is sharp, and so Vivienne barely has the time (or breath) to ask any questions burning on her mind. She does confront him about his injuries, to which he replies, grumbling, 'They're fine, thank you.'
She very quickly learns that her shield is not a very talkative person. Probably because of the murderous pace at which he steers them through the forest. So Vivienne swallows her curiosity for now and focuses on her breathing.
They don't stop for lunch. In fact, they don't stop at all. Kaidan guides her as if his master's whips are behind him. The few times when she halts for a second to get her waterskin, he's restless, eyes always flicking from corner to corner.
Only when the sun begins to set does he slow down.
He turns his head and listens, then he changes course. A few seconds later, they reach a river. The White River, she realizes.
In fact, she recognizes her surroundings. They're already halfway through the pass she traveled through a few days ago. Vivienne can even spot the Valtheim towers in the distance.
"We should be safe here. The Stormcloaks use these roads a lot, which will hold the Thalmor off, ... for now at least."
Vivienne nods, "Let's make camp then. I've walked enough for two today."
And it's true. Her muscles protest at the smallest move. Even setting up her tent feels like pure torture to her thighs. Eventually, she finishes and turns to find Kaidan already fixing a fire. Smiling, she sits down next to him, gathering their food supplies.
Their supper is as meager as their breakfast. Still, Vivienne is happy.
After devouring her food, she finally has the time and space to ask her questions. Kaidan listens intently.
"So. Why did the Thalmor imprison you?" is the first question she asks.
"Aye, I guess I owe you that much.", her companion answers and takes a bite of his bread. "I'd been trying to find a way to cross the border into Pale Pass. In the meantime, I'd been picking up bounty contracts to put some coin in my pockets. I must've drawn too much attention to myself. I'd been camping by the lake in Falkreath when they ambushed me. It seems the Thalmor don't ever need a lot of evidence to bring in a suspect."
The last sentence sounds bitter, and his expression hardens.
"They took one good look at that sword, decided I'd be a good target for interrogation, and dragged me off to that prison."
"How long were you down there?" Vivienne asks softly, "Weren't you scared?"
"It's hard to keep track of time in a room without windows. Two days? A week? I can't say.", he stares into the flames, "Fear I can deal with easily enough."
He is quiet for a few seconds, and then his voice sounds softer, "But, there was a moment or two when I thought it might really be the end for me. The Thalmor would never have let me go, no matter what I told them."
"They will probably keep coming after you.", she guesses.
Kaidan nods, "Aye, and I'll be ready for them. Live and learn, right?"
Vivienne's eyes fall to his glimmering sword, "If I may ask... What's the story behind that sword?"
Kaidan follows her gaze, and his eyes soften as he traces the runes on the weapon, "The question on everyone's mind, even mine. The sword belonged to my mother. I never knew her, but it's my only clue to finding out who she really was."
"You know nothing of her?", Vivienne asks gently, trying not to probe too much.
"No, not even her race. Or her name."
"These runes on the blade have to mean something," she feels dumb for saying that because surely, after searching all this time, he probably noticed that as well, but Kaidan's expression stays the same.
"Maybe we find some way to translate it on our journey.", she finishes and clasps her hands in her lap.
Kaidan raises his hand in a quick gesture.
"You've done enough. I won't ask you to help me with the search for my heritage."
Her expression hardens at that because, of course, she'll help him. Without him, she probably wouldn't have made it out of that prison, either.
"Well, it's a good thing you don't have to ask. I'll help in any way I can." Her voice stays strong, and a flicker of astonishment glides over Kaidan's face like a shadow.
"Very well. Thank you," he answers after a minute or two, and she swears she can see the corners of his mouth twitch.
"My turn for questions. What were you doing near the abandoned Prison anyway?"
Vivienne has known all along that this question would come, yet she dreads it all the same. Shoot it, she will just tell him.
"Originally, I wanted to sell you out," she starts, and his eyes widen. Despite her growing discomfort, she continues.
"I was born in High Rock. The only reason why I'm here now is that I want to join the Mage's College.
I had just crossed the border a few weeks ago when the Imperials mistook me for a Stormcloak spy. I was supposed to be executed in Helgen, together with other Stormcloak soldiers. It never came that far, though. A black dragon attacked Helgen minutes before the execution would've taken place and eliminated nearly the whole town. Ironically, that dragon saved my life."
While she speaks, she watches Kaidan's expression grow more and more perplexed. When she gets to the part with the dragon, his eyes widen drastically.
"A dragon? The fire-breathing lizard kind?" he asks, and she shrugs her shoulders.
"There is only one kind, I suppose." Vivienne retorts, and Kaidan silently agrees. She continues with her story.
"I fled the town with a soldier. Afterward, we split up, and I collapsed near Falkreath. The Innkeeper of the Dead Man's Drink found me. After my injuries had healed, she told me of the Thalmor bounty. I had no money and no supplies, so I set out to shadow you, only to find out they had already caught you. You know the rest."
Ashamed, Vivienne pushes a few strands of hair behind her ear. She doesn't dare look at him.
"Why save me then?", Kaidan asks after a long pause, "You could've just left me to die."
His voice is horribly indifferent, which makes it especially difficult to figure out if he's angry or not. Vivienne hates it.
"Will you laugh at me if I tell you my conscience told me to save you?" she asks, though it's more of a rhetorical question.
"I stood in front of the prison and something pushed me to help you."
Silence stretches over their little camp.
"As soon as I saw what they did to you, I regretted my choice," she adds after it becomes too much, "No human being should suffer such abuse."
She still hasn't looked at him, and the uncertainty of it all makes her clench her teeth.
"Thank you," he finally says, and she dares to look at him, "For rescuing me. And for telling me the truth."
Kaidan doesn't look mad. In fact, his expression is as neutral as it has been since she's met him, which is terribly frustrating.
"So, we have our destination then?" he asks and locks his eyes with hers, "The College of Magical Studies in Winterhold?"
"Kaidan, I will fully understand if you want to get rid of your oath.", she intercepts, "I wouldn't want to travel with someone who nearly sold me out."
Kaidan's eyebrows rise in surprise, and he slowly shakes his head.
"An oath is an oath," he says, "And besides, I don't think you would've managed to shadow me without me noticing."
The last sentence is a jest, she realizes, and watches his eyes crinkle as he smirks at her. Relief floods her chest.
"Before we navigate towards Winterhold...", she says with a small smile, "I have a task left unfinished in Whiterun."
Kaidan nods and places another piece of wood on the fire, "We'll probably make it there in two or three days if we hurry."
Vivienne agrees and suppresses a yawn. Not good enough as it seems, though, because Kaidan gestures to her tent.
"I'll take first watch," he says, and before she can interfere, he adds: "I'll wake you in a few hours. This way we both get some rest."
That seems reasonable enough, she reckons, and makes her way to her tent. Her legs feel like mush after an entire day of hiking without pause. After a few hours of sleep, she will feel better.
"Good night, Kaidan," she says and kneels to open her tent flap. Once inside, she barely hears his quiet "Good night, Vivienne."
Smiling, she tugs herself into her bedroll.
The fire outside cracks and sputters, and Vivienne listens intently as they lull her to sleep.
Kaidan is right. They reach Whiterun in two and a half days.
The first few hours of travelling together are awkward. Vivienne doesn't know what to talk about, and so they march in silence.
This time, Kaidan's pace isn't nearly as murderous as the last time, and they stop for lunch shortly after passing the Valtheim towers. In the evening, Kaidan even hunts down two rabbits, and they feast like kings before falling into a deep sleep.
On the second day, they manage to make some light conversation. Remarks about the weather, about Skyrim's beauty, and Vivienne tells him of her homeland. Despite her companion's ever-growing silence, he listens intently to the things she says, and she swears she can hear him chuckle a few times.
Then, they reach Whiterun. The road leading up to the city is littered with buildings.
There are multiple farms, and of course, Honningbrew Meadery. They meet more and more travelers as the city draws nearer. Big carts filled with vegetables and fruit, sometimes even sacks of grain and big bottles. Travelers like them, bounty hunters with big swords and grim expressions, and wandering priests, clad in long robes and amulets.
Vivienne takes it all in with big eyes. So many strange people and strange scents. She can hardly look fast enough to take everything in.
Kaidan seems to feel quite the opposite. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches him flip up the hood of his cloak, hiding his tattoo and red eyes.
They pass the stables. Before they can enter the city, a guard stops them.
"Halt. The city's closed with the dragons about. Official business only.", he says and waves at a farmer to enter the city next to him.
Vivienne and Kaidan share a look.
"I was in Helgen. I have news about the dragon attack.", she states with confidence, and the guard's eyes narrow to slits.
"Fine. But I'll keep an eye out for both of you.", he answers and waves them through the gate.
They immediately make their way to Dragonsreach. Vivienne offers that Kaidan stay behind and get them checked into an Inn, but he refuses and makes a joke about possible dangers lurking in the palace.
Her heart warms at that, and she smiles.
Dragonsreach is gigantic. Kaidan watches her gaze the building in awe and tells her that it was built to house dragons, despite the large amount of wood used to build it. She chuckles.
The guards in front of the palace let them in without problems as soon as she repeats her story from the main gate. They enter through large, painted doors.
The hall that awaits them is beautiful. A staircase leads up to the main room. Pillars are holding the roof, and a giant, though currently empty, banquet table is lining the walls. A fire in the middle of the room flickers calmly, and something in the pot hanging above is blubbering. It smells of smoke and pine tar.
They make their way across the room.
The jarl, a blond, well-dressed man, sits on the throne, deep in conversation with a smaller, bald Imperial.
"If the news from Helgen is true... well, there's no telling what it means. My lord, please. You have to listen," she catches the Imperial say. He seems agitated, playing with his finger while he talks to the Jarl.
Next to them is a grim-looking Dunmer woman, clad in heavy armor. She watches Kaidan and her suspiciously.
"What would you have me do then? Nothing?" the Jarl asks and grips the sides of his throne.
They ascend a last staircase to the Jarl's throne. Before Vivienne can greet him, however, the Dunmer stops them by unsheathing her weapon.
"What is the meaning of this? Jarl Barlgruuf is not receiving visitors.", she asks, the sword calm in her hand.
Vivienne is quick to answer, "I have news about the dragon attack in Helgen."
The woman's eyes widen, and she sheathes her weapon.
"Well then. What is it?" she asks, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
Vivienne's expression hardens.
"I was told to speak directly to the Jarl.", she's sure to enunciate every word.
"Whatever you have to say to the Jarl, you can say to me." The Dunmer isn't giving up. She takes a step forward and lifts her chin, as if to assert her dominance.
Then, Jarl Balgruuf interrupts the tension between them: "It's alright, Irileth. I want to hear what she has to say."
The woman, Irileth, huffs and turns around, walking back to the side of the throne. Vivienne's shoulders relax.
"So you were at Helgen? You saw this... dragon with your own eyes?" Jarl Balgruuf asks and beckons her closer. Vivienne follows his beckoning. Kaidan stays a few steps behind, but his presence calms her nonetheless.
"Yes, Sir.", Vivienne answers, "The dragon destroyed Helgen. And last I saw, it was heading this way."
Jarl Balgruuf sighs and turns to the Imperial next to him, his advisor perhaps.
"What do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?" his voice carries a bitter jest.
"My lord, we should send troops to Riverwood at once. If that dragon is lurking in the mountains, it's in the most immediate danger." Irileth interrupts the two men. Jarl Balgruuf turns his head and looks at her.
"The Jarl of Falkreath will see that as a provocation!", Proventus argues back, "We should not..."
"Enough!" Jarl Balgruuf rises from his chair.
"I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people!", he gestures to the dunmer next to him, "Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."
Promptly, the woman nods, bows, and makes her way down the stairs.
The Imperial, Proventus, grumbles in annoyance at being ignored. He mumbles something about his duties, then he, too, bows and leaves the room.
Jarl Balgruuf sits back down. He looks exhausted and takes a moment to rub his temples before his eyes flit back to her.
"Well done. You sought me out on your own initiative. You've done Whiterun a service and I won't forget it." he waves to one of the guards next to him, "Please accept this, as a small token of my esteem."
The guard walks up to her and hands her a bundle of clothing. Leather armor, she realizes, and it is small enough to fit her.
She utters an awed 'Thank you, my lord' and glides her fingers over the smooth surface.
Jarl Balgruuf wards off her gratitude.
"There is another thing you could do for me," he contemplates, looking to the left side of the room, "Suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps."
He rises from his chair.
"Let's find my court wizard, Farengar. He has been looking into dragons... and issues related to them."
They walk over to a small room on the left side of the hall. A robed mage sits behind a desk, countless scrolls and soul gems decorating the surface. There's an enchantment table and on the right, a big map of Skyrim's provinces with random scribbled notes on it.
"Farengar. I think I've found someone who can help you with your dragon project."
The Jarl rips the wizard from his thoughts. Hastily, he rises from his chair and bows.
"Go on. Fill her in with all the details.", Jarl Balgruuf gestures to Vivienne.
The wizard musters her. His eyebrow raises in suspicion.
"So, the Jarl thinks you can be of use to me, yes?" his arms cross in front of his chest.
"Well, there is actually something you could help me with. And with help, I mean delve into an ancient burial site to fetch a dragon stone tablet that may or may not be there."
"What does this have to do with dragons?" Vivienne asks.
"Well, that's what I am trying to find out.", the wizard answers cockily. "I'm sure the Jarl will handsomely reward you for your effort."
She sighs and turns to face Kaidan. He, like always, looks indifferent but raises his shoulders as if to say 'your decision'.
She could use the coin...
To hell with it.
"Alright. We'll fetch that tablet for you."
"Excellent. A secret source informed me of an ancient tablet in Bleak Falls Barrow." Farengar walks over to the map and shows them the location.
"It is said to contain a map of dragon burial sites. Go to Bleak Falls Barrow, find this tablet - no doubt interred in the main chamber - and bring it to me. Simplicity itself."
Vivienne quickly realizes that Bleak Falls Barrow is the giant ruin she saw after escaping Helgen. They'll have to travel back to Riverwood.
She thanks the Jarl for his gift again, then they both say their goodbyes and leave Dragonsreach in search of a tavern.
Chapter 5: Bleak Falls Barrow
Summary:
Kaidan and Vivienne try to find the Dragonstone, also what's up with this weird pulsating wall?
Chapter Text
The Bannered Mare is well crowded as they arrive. The sun has set, and various people are seeking a way to drink and unwind. Vivienne recognizes the farmers she saw at the gate earlier, various sellswords, and city guards. A bard is playing songs on his lute, and coins clink on the floor in front of him. The atmosphere is lively, and the crowd is in high spirits.
Vivienne asks Kaidan to stay back, then she maneuvers her way through the crowd. The innkeeper, Hulda, is an older woman with red hair. She eyes Kaidan suspiciously, and Vivienne doesn't blame her. He looks menacing, leaning against a pillar with his hood still pulled deep over his head.
A few minutes later, Vivienne's purse is considerably lighter, and she carries two bottles of mead and keys for two rooms back to her companion. In the meantime, Kaidan has found a corner table to sit at, and she gladly joins him.
Seconds after she sits down, a Redhead woman serves them some meaty stew. Vivienne doesn't waste any time. She digs into her stew like a starved animal and swears it's the best thing she's ever eaten.
Whilst chewing, she gets lost watching the patrons.
Back in High Rock, she hardly spent any time at Inns. Frequently, because of missing funds, but also because she seldom saw any reason in it. Generally, after a long day of working on the farm, the only things on her mind were a bath and a comfortable bed.
In her younger years, her friends often tried to convince her otherwise, but after countless refusals, they learned their lesson.
Now, while watching a few young women chatter and laugh about something the Bard says, she regrets her decisions.
Kaidan seems to have followed her gaze.
"I hate that fucker." he says and takes a swig of his mead.
She turns to look at him with a raised brow and a sly smile on her lips. "Care to explain why?"
"He's a slimy asshole, that's why. And clearly, you never failed to fall asleep while this idiot over there entertains three ladies with an hour of 'Ragnar the Red'."
She laughs at that, "Fortunately, I have not experienced that yet."
Vivienne grins at her companion. There's a playful glint in his eyes as he takes sips of his beverage.
"The innkeeper gave me keys to the bath chamber," she changes the topic and jingles the keys in her hand.
"You go first.", her tall companion interrupts her line of thought, "I'll make sure no one interrupts you."
"Thank you, Kaidan.", she smiles warmly at his consideration, "I'll be quick."
The bath chamber of the Bannered Mare is not necessarily big. There's a wooden bathtub and a small table. Various candles lighten the surroundings, and a small hearth in the corner provides a comfortable warmth.
Still, Vivienne has never felt more excited about the prospect of a bath. Traveling for two weeks with naught but ice-cold river water to wash left her longing for her bathtub back in High Rock.
Vivienne can't suppress a groan as she lowers her body into the steaming tub. It feels heavenly to be surrounded by such warmth after weeks of cold Skyrim weather. In the first few minutes, she only closes her eyes and relishes the feeling.
Then, she thoroughly washes her hair. Whoever provided hot water also gathered soap, which lay on the small table. She uses the small bar to massage her scalp. After rinsing, her hair is finally clean of all the sweat and grime she collected during her journey.
Afterward, she scrubs her body so meticulously that her skin is raw and red as she finishes. She feels incredibly clean and satisfied as she emerges from the water. A shame, she can't wash her clothes.
Sighing, she slips into her traveling attire and boots, though donning her belt.
With damp hair and a smile on her lips, she slips back into the main room of the Inn and makes her way back to the table. Kaidan has ordered another beverage, guessing from the bottles in front of him. He looks up as he recognizes her footsteps. Vivienne watches his eyes widen and blames it on her disheveled appearance.
"All done!" she chirps as she hands him the keys. A few people have left the inn during her bath. It's not as crowded and loud as before. The bard is still strumming on his lute, but considerably quieter, and most of the workers have gone home to prepare for the next workday.
Kaidan rises to take a bath himself, and she wishes him a good night, climbing up the stairs to her room.
The chamber is equally austere as the bathing chamber. Furniture includes a bed, a wardrobe, and a small desk, plus a chair. Thankfully, the warmth of the rooms below travels through the floorboards quite well. The wood is warm beneath her feet as she changes her traveling attire for a nightdress.
It's difficult to fall asleep with the chattering of the patrons below. Vivienne hasn't noticed how comfortable she's grown with the sounds of nature while sleeping. Being in company now feels strange somehow.
Despite that, sleep finds her quickly, albeit not peacefully.
Violence wreaks havoc in her dreams. Blood and fire gush at the edge of her vision, corpses littering wherever she looks, and above it all is a black dragon speaking of the end of the world in a strange language she somehow recognizes.
Due to her rather unfulfilling rest, Vivienne wakes early. The sun is barely in the sky, and most patrons are still asleep. Her head is throbbing, and she's frustrated by it. Still, she can smell fresh bread, and apparently, her hunger is stronger than she is.
So it is that she clambers down the stairs a few minutes later, hair in her usual braid and wearing her new leather armor. To her surprise, Kaidan is also awake, though he looks like he hasn't slept at all. Deep circles decorate the skin beneath his eyes, and there's irritation sewn into every move he makes.
They set out soon after eating. Vivienne manages to acquire a mortar for a relatively cheap price, while Kaidan visits the blacksmith to sharpen his sword. Then, they leave Whiterun behind and make their way to Riverwood.
The journey is rather tame. They have to fight a couple of wolves, but other than that, the woods are peaceful. They make good pace, too, and after the first day, they're only a few hours away from Riverwood.
That evening, Kaidan had a proposition for her, "Since our journey might take us to more dangerous places than you've anticipated, I thought maybe you wouldn't say no to some training."
Vivienne can't help but tease him.
"Are you criticizing my skills with a sword?" she asks and crosses her arms in playful banter. Luckily, Kaidan joins in.
"I wouldn't dream of it," he says flatly, and she grins.
They practice with two sticks that sort of resemble swords. Kaidan is patient as he explains different striking and blocking techniques, and relentless when attacking her. After an hour of training, Vivienne feels much more comfortable with the stick in her hand, even if her muscles feel like mush.
She agrees to train again as soon as they find the time to do so.
It rains the next day. Vivienne is thankful for her new leather attire. With her travel clothes, she'd already be soaked through to the bone. The leather at least shields her from most of the water. Still, her hair sticks to her face, and small rivulets flow down her neck and inside her collar.
With the rain, it's especially difficult to trudge up the mountain to reach Bleak Falls Barrow. The deluge makes it difficult to see, and the ground beneath their boots is slippery. It requires no small amount of concentration to prevent slipping on the wet stones.
Vivienne almost feels relieved when she sees the stone formation of Bleak Falls Barrow in front of them.
The ruins are not uninhabited. A bandit group has declared the ancient site as their residence, and Kaidan and her spend a good amount of time fighting the warriors. After yesterday's training session, she does feel more confident with a weapon in her hand. Pride swirls inside her chest at that thought.
Bleak Falls Barrow smells. The odor of dead skeevers and half-rotted bandit corpses pollutes the air. Water drips down the walls, and moss has grown on the old stone. Stone graves line the walls. At least, Vivienne thinks, it's warmer than the snowy landscape outside.
More bandits hide in the main chamber, and Vivienne uses both destruction magic and her axe to cut through them. Kaidan is always close, taking the bigger opponents and shielding her from damage. He's a force to be reckoned with, especially with his long sword dancing through the air.
They cross the big entry hall and find a staircase leading down into a dark hallway. There are spider webs everywhere, the air smells earthy and damp, and it gets colder as they investigate further. The hallway bends in curves with more and more staircases. Various plants have grown their roots all over the cracked floor, which makes for some wonderful traps.
Vivienne does manage to overlook a particular thick root and would've nearly planted right into the ground, but Kaidan catches her by her waist.
"Careful," he whispers, and she thanks him, cheeks glowing in embarrassment.
They are about to step down the last staircase when Vivienne sees something move at the end of it.
"Kaidan!" she whispers hastily and crouches down. He follows her suit. They sneak their way down, and Vivienne catches sight of the room in front of them. There's a lever on the ground. On the left side, rotatable little triangles show different animals. Big stone canvases line the walls, two of them showing the same engravings as the triangles to the left. The third one broke down ages ago. It looks like a puzzle of some sort.
Vivienne is right in her suspicion. A single bandit walks up and down in front of the canvases. He turns some of the triangles, muttering to himself. Then, he pulls the lever.
Arrows fly from hidden nooks in the room. They pierce through his flesh right where he stands. The man slumps to the ground, dead.
Kaidan sucks in a breath.
"Fuck these nord ruins and their puzzles," he groans and rises from his crouching position. Vivienne does the same.
Together, they carefully make their way down. She prepares for the worst.
Unlike what she thought, there are no arrows immediately perforating them. Everything stays as silent as it was. Only the drops of water can be heard in the chamber.
"It has to do with these canvases," Vivienne says. Though her voice is quiet, it sounds loud and booming in the vast silence of the room.
"See?" she points to the wall, "There's a snake in the first place, then a boulder is missing. The last symbol is a whale. The missing boulder must be this one, which crashed down. Hence, a snake. Therefore, snake, snake, whale."
Kaidan turns his head.
"Are you sure about this?" he asks, concern imminent in his voice.
Vivienne shrugs her shoulders.
"Do you have any other ideas?" she questions and walks over to the triangles.
They're heavier than she thought, and Kaidan quickly helps her turn them to their right positions. Snake. Then another snake. Finally, the whale.
She moves to turn the lever, but her companion stops her.
"If anyone touches this lever, it'll be me," he states. Vivienne tries to argue and explain that it's her idea and she'll be the one to suffer the consequences, but he interrupts her.
"I am wearing a ton of steel armor. If anyone will survive a storm of arrows, it'll be me. Move over there. The arrows should not reach you behind that boulder."
With a heavy heart, Vivienne does as she's told. Fear dances in her stomach. Kaidan takes a deep breath and pulls the lever and...
No arrows. Like frozen in place, they stand and wait, but there's no telltale whooshing, and after a few seconds, the iron gate at the end of the room gets pulled up.
Vivienne can't help but groan as the tension leaves her body. Worry falls off her shoulders like stones, and she steps out of her hiding place, silently thanking Mara and every other divine she knows.
"Told you it'd work," she declares, but there's a deep level of relief in her voice, and she knows Kaidan takes notice of that.
They make their way further. A wooden staircase spirals into the ground to their left, and they descend. Vivienne barely has time to wonder how deep in the earth they are as skeevers skitter out of the shadows. They're not necessarily dangerous, but half mad with hunger, and she kills two of them with her axe.
Following the staircase leads them to another hallway, though this one is different. Spiderwebs line the walls like she's never seen before. They're so large and sticky that she has to take an axe to physically cut through them. Despite her best efforts, some of them still stick to her hair and armor.
It's exhausting, and so she's entirely oblivious to the sounds of the next room until Kaidan stops her.
"Do you hear that?" he whispers, and she strains her ears. Yes, actually, she can hear a man rambling, well, more like yelling for help, and her blood runs cold.
"Is someone there? Please. I need help."
Carefully, and wary of other traps, they cut their way into the chamber. Vivienne barely has time to notice the varying sizes of eggs in the corner, or the cobwebs covering every single surface, when a giant frostbite spider descends from a nest in the ceiling.
Kaidan immediately attacks, using his sword to bash into the spider's back. It hisses and chirps. Vivienne fires one fireball after the other, careful not to hit Kaidan. Unconsciously, she notices the man from earlier still yelling, rambling about the spider and help. She ignores him and concentrates on fighting the spider, which has started spitting poison in her and Kaidan's direction. Vivienne moves away a second too late, and some of it hits her in the left arm. The poison burns like liquid ice.
Soon after, the spider is defeated. Kaidan has stabbed it right into its eyes.
"Are you alright?" he asks, chest heaving while he walks over to her.
Vivienne nods, despite the poison burning on her skin. The armor still shielded her from most of it. She'll be fine after a quick healing potion, which she takes out of her belt pouch.
"Where are you going? Cut me down."
Finally, they both take notice of the voice again. She looks around the room and notices a hallway, covered in cobwebs. There does seem to be a lump in the middle, completely wrapped in the sticky webs. As she walks closer, she realizes that it's not just any lump, it's a Dunmer hanging in the doorway.
"Finally. Please cut me down," he pleads, and she obeys, making quick work of the webs. He drops to the ground and on his back, groaning at the impact. Vivienne holds out her hand to help him rise. He spits at it, turns around, and makes a run for it.
"Fools. Why would I share the treasure with anyone?" she can hear him cackle.
Vivienne moves to follow, but her companion stops her with a hand on her arm.
"Don't. These ruins are littered with traps. He'll never make it alone."
He's right. A few minutes later, they find his corpse, hit by a giant door trap. He carries some gold and a journal, alongside a weirdly looking golden claw with symbols on the palm. They remind her of the first puzzle they solved.
Vivienne skips through the pages of his journal, quickly sensing that he wrote about another puzzle in this ruin, which would allegedly lead him to a treasure. Sighing, she drops the journal next to him, but she keeps the claw.
Just as she wants to tell Kaidan of her discovery, a noise stops her in her tracks.
A groan. Deep and ancient.
She turns around, and a shiver runs down her spine.
Blazing blue eyes stare at her from the darkness. There's a foul smell in the air. Shuffled steps sound on the floor, and then she sees it. One of the embalmed corpses on the sides of the room has stood up.
Vivienne hardly believes her eyes. The tall, mangled figure shuffles towards them, an ancient-looking weapon in his long, thin fingers. She is frozen in place, can hardly believe what she's seeing.
Kaidan, thank Mara, is in no such stupor. He jumps in front of her and, with a yell, cuts its head clearly off its shoulders. The blazing in its blue eyes extinguishes, and it drops to the ground.
Her companion turns, looking down at her shocked face and lowering his weapon. He seems to know exactly what she's thinking and feeling, and shoots her a sympathetic look.
"They're called draugr. For some reason, Skyrim has an ongoing problem with walking dead in their gravesites, especially when they're as old as this. They give me the fucking creeps," he shudders and sheathes his katana.
Vivienne is thankful for his explanation despite her ongoing fear. She swallows it down.
Unfortunate for her, they meet a lot more of the walking dead the further they go. They often break open their coffins to attack them, and every time, Vivienne has to fight the urge to scream. Thank the divines her companion is less jumpy, and always ready to take a hit for her. Otherwise, she'd already be Draugr food, she thinks.
After what feels like hours of dark, gloomy tunnels, they reach a big stone door. Three rings are embedded in the middle, once again with different drawings of animals. Fortunately for them, they match the symbols on the palm of the iron claw.
This time, Vivienne is the one to try out her idea. She turns the rings in the right order, inserts the claw, and turns the inner stone ring. The old rock groans and sinks into the ground.
During another time, she would've loved nothing more than to study the seemingly ancient magic that worked behind these mechanisms. Unfortunately, she doesn't have the time or the focus.
"Well then." Kaidan mutters behind her, "Let's find this tablet and then let's get the hell out of here."
The cavern behind the stone door is gigantic. Statues and columns are carved into the stone, each resembling some old Nordic creature or hero. A river flows through the wide open space, and pale sunlight filters through the holes in the wall, reflecting off the water. Various wildlife have made the space their home. Vivienne hears bats flutter in the dark corners, dazzling, blind fish float through the stream, and mice chirp and squeak. Their steps echo on the slippery stones; the air is foggy and cold.
A small stone bridge and a staircase lead them to a plateau. There's another grave on top and a strange wall, pulsating and quivering. Words in an unfamiliar language were sculpted into the rock. Vivienne can't read them, but her brain tells her she can. She looks closer. It feels like magic the way it dances behind her eyes. It's difficult to concentrate.
"The tablet has to be in this grave," she hears Kaidan mutter, but it feels like he's speaking through fog. His voice is all quiet and muffled, and she can barely understand him.
All Vivienne can focus on is this blinding, searing inscription that seems to reach into her brain. A strange, cold feeling runs through her like fresh river water, and the world turns white for a few seconds. There's a similar sentiment to this, she realizes, like remembering a spell she had forgotten. It feels good. Powerful.
Suddenly, the effects lessen, and then they're gone. Everything is as it was before.
Vivienne gasps and turns around to find her companion next to her, eyes wide with both concern and uncertainty.
"Vivienne...", he starts, but a crack interrupts him.
Behind Kaidan, the top of the grave cracks and bursts. A draugr steps out. However, this one looks different. He's clad in black, Nordic armor. Long jagged spikes decorate his helmet, and he carries a heavy long sword. He's taller than the draugr they fought before, but his eyes are just the same. Gleaming and glaring and unbelievingly blue.
Vivienne swallows the fear that has built in her stomach and faces the foe. He doesn't act like she expects him to. Instead of groaning and trying to bash her skull in like his predecessors, he takes a deep breath. It reminds her of the black dragon and how he- realization flashes through her like lightning.
"Kaidan!" she screams, and before he can react, she leaps out of the way and takes him with her in the process. Not a second too late.
The draugr yells something in the same ancient, familiar language she'd heard from both the dragon and the wall. A force field of magicka soars from his body and right into the spot where the two of them stood just seconds ago. The impact shakes the ground below.
Something groans from beneath her. Vivienne averts her eyes from the draugr for a second and realizes that she's still on top of her tall companion. Kaidan is on his back on the stone floor, and she, on top of him, hands next to his shoulders. There's no time for embarrassment or shame, despite the feelings growing hot beneath her skin.
She rises from her position and helps him up just in time so he can block a hit from the draugr.
The fight is exhausting. Constantly, they have to look out for the creature's shouts. It makes attacking with short-range weapons a pain in the ass, and so Vivienne takes to her bow and attacks from afar. Fortunately, Vivienne discerns, the draugr has to regenerate magicka after every shout, which makes them a little bit more predictable.
In the end, it's she who delivers the killing blow. One of her arrows embeds itself right in his left eye socket. The draugr exhales, then he falls forward and plummets to the stone ground.
Kaidan is the first to catch his breath and inspect the grave. Just like he said earlier, there's the dragonstone, a thin stone disk with strange engravings on it. It's less impressive than she thought.
Luckily, it's not the only treasure the grave conceals. A hefty sum of money, as well as gems and delicate trinkets, the draugr was buried with. A certain circlet catches Vivienne's eye. A thin, intricate circle, embedded with sapphire stones. It gleamed beneath the dim light of the cave. The metal buzzes against Vivienne's hand on touch. It had to be enchanted somehow.
They pack everything they can carry, planning to sell it to the next vendor they meet, then they leave Bleak Falls Barrow.
Chapter 6: Near lake Ilinalta
Summary:
They learn new things about each other.
Chapter Text
"Why do these things have to shoot venom? Isn't it enough that they're gigantic?" Vivienne hisses as she peels the leather sleeve down her arm, "Fuck, this hurts."
"Are you okay? Do you need anything?" her companion asks from his tree stump, back facing her.
"No. I'll be fine."
The poison resistance potion burns as she pours it over the burn injury the venom left on her skin.
"It just needs a little time."
Vivienne wraps a linen cloth around the clean skin, tucking it in and securing it so it won't slip.
"Aye, alright. But if you need any potions, tell me. I'll get some as soon as we arrive in Falkreath."
"Thank you, Kaidan. I'll keep an eye on it."
She wriggles out of the stiff armor and lets it drop to the ground.
They had decided earlier to steer towards Falkreath before getting back to Farengar in Whiterun.
Vivienne feels guilt gnawing at her for the decisions till. Surely, the dragon dilemma is more important than her dealings in other cities. Nonetheless, she wants to repay Valga for her hospitality. After Whiterun, the two of them would set out for Winterhold, and it'd be difficult to reach Falkreath then. Additionally, they could get a carriage there, so they could make up for lost time.
Kaidan leans over to grab his sword. He has taken off the armor and is clad in only a white shirt and his pants. Even his hair is freed from its usual bun.
She slips into her linen shirt, thanking Mara for the heat the bonfire next to her provides. Next are her traveling pants. After she's dressed, she moves next to the fire again. Unlike Kaidan, she takes a seat on the ground, which has warmed considerably thanks to the flames.
Kaidan is polishing his sword, slowly and deliberately. He must've done this a thousand times over. Experience guides his hands. There's almost something meditative about it.
"Vivienne...?" he starts, and she hums as an answer. Her name sounds so delicate coming from his mouth, she thinks. Vivienne. So gentle and careful.
"Earlier, when you looked at that wall, what happened? It looked like you were enchanted somehow."
The statement worries her. She thought he'd just been distracted, and that's why he hadn't taken any notice.
"You didn't see it glow?" she asks.
"No...?"
"It looked to me like some sort of magical words. They were glowing and vibrating, and it felt- well, it felt strange."
She tells him more of the strange feeling, how it felt like a hidden path of knowledge, and how crazy that sounds. Vivienne doesn't explain how the draugr lord spoke the same language as the dragon in Helgen and how she somehow thinks she recognizes that language.
Kaidan stays silent, nodding here and there, concern flashing in his red eyes.
During their conversation, she realizes how much she's come to appreciate his company. In the beginning, the aspect of another traveler at her side, sleeping and fighting beside her, had frightened her. He is a tall man, after all. If he means to do her harm, he could do so any time. Vivienne wouldn't have a chance.
Yet in the entire time since she's known him, she hasn't felt fear or danger once. He's always careful and gentle, despite his gruff and gloomy exterior. Kaidan takes her seriously, he listens to her, and he offers advice when she asks. Without him, she wouldn't even be alive.
"Enough of that for now. Care for some more light conversation?" she asks him, crossing her fingers for him to say yes.
"Aye. What do you have in mind?" he chuckles and sheathes his sword, attention now fully on Vivienne.
"Tell me something about you, Kaidan," she requests, crossing her legs.
"There's not much to tell," he tries to deflect.
"I don't believe that," she answers, teasingly raising her brows, and he sighs heavily.
"Didn't think you would. Well. My favorite weapon is the longsword. My... uh, my guardian taught me how to wield it from a very young age."
"Your guardian?" she asks, curious to learn more about her companion.
"Well, the closest thing I had to one, anyway. His name was Brynjar. We traveled a lot together, never staying long at one place. He thought it important I could defend myself."
"That must've been tough for you," she contemplates, thinking of her sisters always running around, playing catch, and hide and seek. She can hardly imagine teaching them how to fight. They would never have listened anyway.
Kaidan shrugs.
"I didn't know any different. It sucked that I never had anyone my age, and if I ever found one, we had to move on a while later. Brynjar had fought in the Great War. Sometimes I believe the things he saw there..." he pokes the fire with a long stick, "They followed him, even in his dreams. So he spent his life running away."
"What happened to him?" Vivienne asks carefully to not stir old wounds.
"That's a grim tale." Kaidan's expression hardens, "One I'd rather not talk about tonight."
She nods hastily, agreeing, and he's quick to move on. He asks her about her homeland, where she grew up. What the people eat there, what festivities they celebrate, and what it smells like, and she tells him everything.
Vivienne talks of the Bjoulsae River and the fish there, how her people grill the meat and use lemons to serve it, about Iliac Bay and its big trading port. Then, about the games she used to play as a kid on these boats, and how the sun is always warm and welcoming.
"What about your friends?" Kaidan asks after a long pause, "Didn't stop you from leaving?"
"Hm." Vivienne sighs, "As I got older, all of them moved away or got married. We are, after all, all just farmers. I was born lucky, with a mother who also studied at the college. The rest of my friends got less fortunate. There aren't many options in life for farmers' daughters," she shrugs.
"I don't believe you to be a simple farmer's daughter." Kaidan chuckles. Vivienne blushes at the compliment.
Masser and Secunda are already high in the sky, throwing shadows with their dim, white light. The birds have fallen asleep, and the night is silent, except for a few stray animals scuffling through the forest. She yawns, stretching her arms.
"I'll go to sleep, if you don't mind," she says, turning to Kaidan.
"Go to sleep. You fought well today, you need the rest."
Vivienne still thinks about the praise while rolled into her sleeping roll, a crimson flush painting her skin.
Chapter 7: Dead Man's Drink
Summary:
Kaidan and Vivienne meet a new face.
Chapter Text
Falkreath is just as Vivienne remembers. Quiet, serene, and relaxed.
They visit various vendors in the city. Vivienne sees the general merchant, while Kaidan pays the smith a stop.
The owner of Gray Pine Goods is a tall Nord named Solaf. She sells him the jewelry they found in Bleak Fall's Barrow, and halts when she finds the circlet again.
"That is fine work," the merchant whistles, and she watches his eyes rake the fine metal, "Enchanted, too, as it looks like. You sure you want to sell this to me?" Vivienne silently contemplates. She doesn't know what magic has been put on the circlet, and she doesn't know anyone who would know either- Farengar. Farengar could surely find out. That settles it.
She leaves the store with a satchel full of septims, a few new arrows, and, to her excitement, an alchemy kit. The circlet stays in her bag, hidden from sharp eyes.
Kaidan is already waiting outside, leaning against a wooden pillar. It has started to rain, and so they make their way to the Inn.
Valga is happy to see her again, though suspicious of her big companion. Vivienne doesn't blame her. It must look odd.
She set out to sell him to the Thalmor, and now, she's come back with him at her side.
She buys rooms for the two of them and settles her debt. Valga tries to convince her otherwise, argues that she helped them work already, and that's more than she can ask for. Vivienne listens to none of it.
"You saved my life. Out of pure kindness," she insists, "Let me at least repay the gold I owe."
"Fine." The woman finally takes the pouch from Vivienne's hands, "But food and drinks are on me."
They settle on that compromise.
Thankfully, the Dead Man's Drink is empty save for a few lonely guests. She and Kaidan take seats next to the fire, warming up after a long trip through the cold forest. Be that as it may, the journey was pleasant. After Bleak Falls Barrow, Vivienne feels like a dam has broken loose. Their chemistry is now much more comfortable; hell, Kaidan even smiled a few times on their trip to Falkreath.
It's comforting to see him like that. It soothes her nerves.
She feels sad to lose his comradeship as soon as they reach Winterhold. Despite only knowing him for a little more than two weeks, she's come to really enjoy his company. The concept of being alone again... it saddens and frightens her.
They're relaxing on their chairs, each traveler with a beverage in hand. Vivienne closes her eyes and lets her head rest against the chair.
"Excuse me, Madam. I don't usually do this," a voice says next to her, "Err... Have you got a moment to talk?"
She opens her eyes to spot a young man beside her. He's clearly not from here, dressed in clearly expensive traveling attire and golden jewelry. The sword on his belt appears brand new. Annoyance creeps up in her belly at the interruption, which she tries her best to swallow. It's not his fault that she’s exhausted.
"If this is a bad attempt at flirting, I fear you've got the wrong person," Vivienne answers, and in her peripheral vision, she watches Kaidan's lips curve.
"Flirting? Divines, no! That isn't my intention at all," he stammers, fiddling with his hands, "I simply have uh... a proposition for you."
"Sounds like flirting to me," she can't help but tease and watches his cheeks turn beet red.
"I'm sorry! That isn't what I meant at all, uh, I mean- Can we start anew with this whole introduction thing?"
"Sure. I'm sorry," she apologizes with a laugh, and his shoulders relax again.
"Phew. Thank you. I'm Lucien. Lucien Flavius. He extends his hand in a handshake, and she takes it.
"Very pleased to meet you, Lucien. I'm Vivienne Pennell. Can I help you?" There's still an amused smile on her lips at his uncertainty when speaking to her.
"A pleasure to meet you, Vivienne. I'm a scientist, a philosopher, an amateur wizard, and I guess a musician, though that's more of a hobby. I couldn't help noticing that you and your companion seem... how do I put this? Acquainted with the less delectable side of Skyrim?"
At this, Kaidan straightens his upper body and crosses his arms in front of his chest, now equally curious about the conversation.
"Well, I guess we are. My companion definitely is," she answers, and sends a supportive smile his way. That does seem to calm him a little. "Do you need anything?"
"As a matter of fact, I do." Lucien clasps his hands, "You see, I'm on an expedition of some sort. Academic, mainly. I find this country simply fascinating." His eyes burn with something like passion as he talks.
"Trouble is, I'm not much of a warrior. Skyrim's no place for a milk drinker like me," he adds, much less passionate, shoulders slumping.
"T'least he knows it," Kaidan grumbles behind her. She shoots him a look, and he quiets.
Fortunately, Lucien doesn't seem to have heard his teasing.
"...and that's why I'm looking for someone to travel with," he ends his speech and expectantly watches the pair in front of him.
Vivienne is dumbfounded and turns to Kaidan. There's a silent pleading look in his red eyes.
Lucien seems to understand their silence. "I will compensate you handsomely for putting up with me," he adds and pulls a clinking pouch out of his pocket.
That seems to catch Kaidan's attention, and he leans forward. "How much are we talking?" he asks, staring at Lucien with intimidating eyes.
"Well, uhm." the blonde man gulps, "Shall we say 300 septims up front? I'll top you every time we find something useful for my research."
Kaidan leans back, now clearly more convinced, and shrugs as Vivienne looks at him. "Your decision, Vivienne. I'm fine with it."
The Breton turns to face Lucien and contemplates. "Well, our journey may only take us to Winterhold. If you're fine with that, I'll gladly have you accompany us." She smiles warmly at his excitement following her words.
"Yes! I mean, uh, thank you very much. Then take this," he hands her the pouch, full of gold. "Oh, this is going to be such an adventure, I can feel it!"
Vivienne can almost hear Kaidan roll his eyes behind her.
Kayhager5 on Chapter 4 Fri 05 Sep 2025 01:12AM UTC
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