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>When posting prompts, always remember to add kinks you're both looking for and wanting to avoid in a potential fill.
>When filling, please remember to add your story tags: characters, relationship types, kinks, series and universe (ie: skyrim)
>Our character limit here at LJ is 4300.
>If you have any other questions about posting, visit the HOW TO KINK MEME THREAD, under the Page Summary on your left.
The Other Woman -- F!DB/Alvor -- 9a/?
Date: 2012-08-16 12:56 am (UTC)Part the 9th: In Which the Author Takes Some Liberties With the Locations of Named Characters and the Main Questline.
_____
Three days later, she stopped running. She had to. She was out of food, out of water, out of road. She hadn’t really paid much attention to where she had been going; she’d just gone, so the fact that she was completely lost was not much of a surprise. This was not Cyrodiil. She had not grown up exploring this land. In fact, until the day before she’d crossed the border, she had not so much as looked at a map of Skyrim. She had just been thirsty for adventure, and determined to get away, beyond the familiar.
Danica shivered, wishing she’d stopped in any one of the towns she’d passed and gotten something warmer to wear than this leather. She wished she’d thought to grab the steel armor which was still sitting in Alvor’s smithy. She wished a lot of things, really. But wishing wasn’t going to get her anywhere. Instead, she began actually paying attention to her surroundings. She heard the usual rustlings of animals in the snow, and other sounds she expected in a snowy wood like this. But as she listened, she began to recognize the sound of people. They weren’t loud, but they were there.
Cold, tired, and hungry, she decided to risk approaching. Either they would be friendly, and she could barter with them, or they wouldn’t be, and she could slip away unnoticed. Regardless, now that she knew they were there, she had to check.
It was soon evident that what she’d stumbled across was a military encampment; the defenses surrounding it told her as much. The sharpened wooden logs had been strapped together to make crude barriers, precisely the sort her father would have had her erect if she were to maintain a long-term camp. She wondered if she had stumbled across the Imperials or the rebels—whatever they were called.
“Halt!” A sentry had spotted her. She cursed under her breath, and straightened from where she had been crouching in a bush. She didn’t know how he had seen her, but now that he had, she just hoped that he didn’t decide she was a threat. Though generally capable of fighting her way out of most situations, she was not eager to take on better-equipped and better-fed soldiers. “What brings you to the Winterhold Camp?”
“I-“ Danica’s throat ached, and her voice was rough with disuse. She hadn’t spoken a word since leaving Riverwood. She thought briefly of lying, but decided to give him the truth. “I’m lost.”
“Lost?” He scoffed, and took a few steps closer. The man was large, and extremely suspicious of her. She could see it in his face, and the way he stood. He wore leather armor, dyed the blue of the rebels. She wished she could remember what they were called. Not that it would help, but she would at least have a name for what she was facing.
“Yes.” She glared at him despite herself. “Lost. I came up here from Helgen.”
“Helgen? You expect me to believe you’re from Helgen? Everyone knows the town was razed.” His hand rested upon the hilt of the sword at his hip. “Only people who escaped were Stormcloaks.”
“Not quite.” She shrugged. Danica hadn’t thought about the others since she’d lost them in Helgen. Perhaps she should have, but she’d been wrapped up in her own concerns. Now she knew that at least one or two had survived. That was more than she had expected. “I got grabbed with you lot when I was crossing the border. Barely made it out alive, but here I am. So, no. Not just Stormcloaks.”
“I don’t believe you.” He scowled at her, and took another step forward. “You’re going to have to come with me. We’ve got one of the Helgen survivors here. Unless he says that you were there, you’re going to be in a lot of trouble.”
She wanted to laugh, but knew that it would be a mistake. Like as not, he would have forgotten her. It might have been a memorable day, but she was not a particularly memorable person. Except maybe to Hadvar, but one tended to remember those who left you heartbroken. And those who left your family in shambles. But Hadvar was not here, and he was not a Stormcloak, so the point was moot.
The Other Woman -- F!DB/Alvor -- 9b/?
Date: 2012-08-16 12:58 am (UTC)The guard smirked, and gestured in a way that was almost gentlemanly. Almost. “After you.”
They had not been far from the camp at all, she realized. Perhaps another half dozen steps would have led her right to it. There wasn’t much to see. A few tents, a campfire, and a few other army-camp essentials sat in the middle of a small clearing. In one tent, she heard the unmistakable sound of men in pain. In another, she heard the low rumbling voices of men strategizing.
Of course, that was where he took her.
They stood just outside for a moment, waiting to be acknowledged. In that brief moment, she realized that luck was with her. One of the men standing at the table was Ralof; the talkative Stormcloak from Riverwood. She didn’t know what to feel; on the one hand, Ralof was probably the only person from Helgen besides Hadvar who would actually remember her. On the other hand, he knew Hadvar, and was from Riverwood.
She couldn't bear to discuss that. Couldn't imagine explaining what had happened, or why she was here if he asked. But she was not a liar, and if it came up, she didn't know what she would say.
She thought briefly about retreating, thought about continuing to run, empty stomach and poorly chosen equipment be damned. And then he saw her.
“You’re alive!” He exclaimed, his face breaking into a grin. “When we lost you in Helgen I thought you were a goner. I should have realized that you were a survivor.”
The Stormcloak guard beside her shifted uncomfortably. Ralof glanced at him, frowned, and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. He obviously didn’t know or care what had gone on between them, and Danica couldn’t decide if she was relieved to not have to explain, or irritated that the guard had gotten off without a reprimand for his behavior. Though he had just been doing what he thought was best for the camp, she grudgingly thought.
“I was hoping I could trade for some supplies,” Danica admitted. She had hoped for a place to sleep, too, but she’d settle for something in her belly. She may have learned to deal with hunger as a necessity of her trade, but that didn’t mean she had to enjoy it. And sleeping out under the stars, even in this cold, was easier to deal with when she wasn’t starving.
“I’ll bring you to our quartermaster, and he can see what we can spare. There’s not a lot out here, but we’ll do what we can. This way.” He led her out of the tent, and toward another. “How did you escape Helgen? After we lost track of you, we were sure you were done for.”
“I got lucky,” she said, dismissing it. She didn’t want to get into it. Didn’t want to explain Hadvar to Ralof, didn’t want to talk about Alvor, or anything else that had happened in Riverwood. She had not run this far so she could talk about it.
What she needed right now was to forget.
“That’s some incredible luck,” Ralof said with a laugh.
“Yeah. It was.”
And then the conversation turned elsewhere; to supplies, and dinner, and a million other things that soldiers are always concerning themselves with, and for at least a moment, Danica could relax and begin to forget.
Re: The Other Woman -- F!DB/Alvor -- 9b/?
Date: 2012-08-25 01:18 am (UTC)Re: The Other Woman -- F!DB/Alvor -- 9b/?
Date: 2012-08-25 07:48 pm (UTC)Bear with me. (I'm pretty sure it's worth the wait.)
Re: The Other Woman -- F!DB/Alvor -- 9b/?
Date: 2012-08-28 07:25 am (UTC)RomeRiverwood wasn't built in a day... ;)I'll be here waiting patiently with sweetrolls for A!A.