Still-Born Shout [#wattys2017]

Chapter Two

She had made it to Riverwood.

By the gods, she was almost burnt to a crisp in the process, but she had made it to Riverwood, and on to Whiterun, in one piece. If it weren't for Ralof's directions and Jarl Balgruuf's hospitality, she would've been in even more trouble.

When she first met the Jarl of Whiterun hold, she could see the curiosity behind his gaze, just as she had seen it at Helgen, behind the face of that Imperial name-calling soldier, and in the eyes of Jarl Ulfric.

Since she left the safety of Gerdur's house, she had been doing all she could to pick up information about the Civil War in Skyrim. She listened to citizens' conversations, eavesdropped near the doors of the guard houses, and even pocketed a few pamphlets at that Breton's shop in Whiterun.

Oh well, she thought. He was a son-of-a-bitch, anyway, and it won't hurt his business any if I just take a few things. Not only did she end up with a few informative pamphlets, she managed to snatch a steel sword and a new set of leathers. The past few years on the streets of Cyrodiil had left her with exceptional, erm, acquiring skills. That's it. She could acquire things extremely well.

The pamphlets made for good reading as she climbed the mountain to reach Bleak Falls Barrow. Apparently, that Jarl Ulfric had murdered the High King of Skyrim using an ancient power known only as the Voice. He and his Stormcloak rebellion declared war on the Empire, to fight for Skyrim's independence.

So they were rebels, she thought. She heard a sound from far off and folded the pamphlets, sticking them in her shoulder bag and unsheathing her sword from its scabbard at her side. As she prowled along the snow-covered path she could see the glow of a fire through the trees. She heard mumbling and figured it would be best if she remained unseen.

When they discovered her, she killed mercilessly, without a second thought. There wasn't much that went through her mind as she fought through Bleak Falls Temple. When she discovered the dark elf Arvel, she slit his throat before she cut him down. His pockets were full of gold, to her liking, and the claw was there. She was glad to think of the reward she would receive from those traders in Riverwood upon the claw's return.

As she cut down the draugr lord in the Bleak Falls Sanctum, she thought of Cyrodiil. She thought of the lush, warm climate. She thought of the days on her Aunt Lydda's farm, chopping wood and tilling the soil. She thought of milling the grains and dunking her sieve in the cool water of the stream. Her Aunt was obsessed with gold.

Perhaps that's why she was so quick to sell me off, the woman thought, as she met the slashes of her undead opponent. When a Khajiit caravan had passed through and offered Lydda gold for her young female companion. Lydda accepted, glad to have the burden of the girl taken off her shoulders.

The girl thought she was going to become a bed-slave. The girl was afraid that she would have to lay with those dirty, thieving cats.

But the girl was wrong.

The Khajiit used her as a serving-girl, at first, but as the cat-folk began to warm up to her, they taught her the arts of Speechcraft and Sneaking. They taught her how to search pockets in a busy crowd, and how to get the best of a man thrice her size, with only a blunt dagger.

When the girl was in the shadow of womanhood, the Khajiit tribe was murdered. Just like her parents had been murdered. Just like Aunt Lydda, as she would later discover, had been murdered. Her suspicious nature had her believing that someone was trying to chase her out of Cyrodiil.

The girl, who had become a young woman, spent the next few years attempting to learn more about her parentage. She knew only what her terrible aunt had told her; her mother had travelled to Skyrim and married a Nord, and the pair of them had returned to Cyrodiil after the girl was born. After the girl's mother, Aunt Lydda's younger sister, had come to the farm with her family, they were killed by bandits on their way to the capital. Lydda was left with the infant girl.