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 shakes 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.