Survivor (A Skyrim Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Five

I woke up to a loud thumping on the door, the noise bouncing and echoing within my head.

"Aemilia, get up! We need to leave, it's already sun's height," Erik loudly called from outside the door. 

"Okay, okay I'm up..." I mumbled into the pillow, assuming he would hear.

I rolled out of bed and onto the floor with a thud. The room span around me in every direction though I'm sure I wasn't moving my head.

A moment of closing my eyes did the trick of returning my vision normal, yet the splitting head ache certainly hadn't decided to leave. My armor was scattered across the floor, left from my drunken tiredness from last night, and it was then that I realized I hadn't any clothes on.  

"Ugh...for the love of Mara," I sighed whilst sloppily collecting my garments.

I was finally dressed in my Stormcloak Officer armor after at least ten minutes of hopeless fumbling around with straps and strings and whatnot. I stumbled out of my room to see an impatient-looking Erik with his arms crossed.

"Well it's about time you made an appearance. By the Gods, you look dreadful. Wait, are you still drunk?"

I rubbed my eyes tiredly and almost look my balance thanks to the wonderful hangover plaguing me. Yes, I was quite a lightweight when it came to alcohol - something I hated to admit.

"Thanks," I muttered. "And of course I'm not drunk, you idiot. Alcohol just doesn't treat me kindly the next morning."

He laughed at my suffering every time I had too much to drink, which was often as of late, and he didn't fail to maintain to that tradition even now.

Erik was a guy who would enjoy a drink occasionally but wouldn't drink it to excess. With his father being an innkeeper, he had seen how alcohol could change and damage people so he decided to keep his consumption limited.

"Ready to go?" he asked eventually.

I nodded, grabbed my bag, and followed Erik out the door.

I had been snowing last night so the ground was covered in a heavy layer of fresh white snow. The sun was shining, making the snow glitter and giving Skyrim seem much more forgiving to those who weren't used to the cold. They would learn that looks could be deceiving to their sorrow if they were to step out in anything less than four layers of fur.

Gunjar was feeding a carrot to the carriage horse, stroking the creature's mane caringly.  

"He's getting tired. And cold, so terribly cold," he said sadly.

I couldn't help but frown sadly. The horse did look tired and it wasn't accustomed to the harsher weather of this side of Skyrim, but he would have to withstand until Windhelm otherwise it's a long walk for the rest of us.

With a large step, I hopped on to the back of the wagon and slid on to the seat, eager to get to Windhelm.

"Off to Windhelm we go!" Erik sang happily as he jumped up opposite me and dumped his bags at the far end of the wagon.

The carriage shook violently as we started off down the cobblestone road. The long bridge of Windhelm could just be seen far off in the distance between the trees.

"We don't have far left to go," I said, not to anyone in particular.

As the sun passed over the sky and our carriage moved along the road, we finally came to the bridge right outside the city. It was full of hundreds of nobles who had traveled from all across Skyrim and the rest of Tamriel, the fullest I had ever seen it.