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Language:
English
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Published:
2018-11-07
Words:
742
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
10
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98
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Choo Choo Motherf*ckers

Summary:

She woke to a familiar scene: Stormcloaks on their way to Helgen. She thought she knew the plot of the game, but everything changes when she realizes this isn't vanilla Skyrim; this is modded Skyrim.

Notes:

Original prompt from the Skyrim kmeme.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

A sudden jolt woke her from her slumber. Sluggishly, she opened her eyes – before closing them again as the harsh light gave her already delicate head a throbbing migraine. God, how much did she drink last night? Another jolt made her realize she was moving – and not very smoothly either. The smells assaulted her then – horse, forest and sweat. Where the fuck was she?

Opening her eyes, this time carefully, she looked around. She was in a wooden horse-drawn carriage, slowly making its way on a forest road. The smell of sweat was most likely explained by the group of filthy men sitting around her.

“Hey, you! You’re finally awake,” an accented voice said.

She gazed at the fair-haired, scruffy-looking man opposite her – feeling a twinge of familiarity. Why would she recognize this man?

“You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush – same as us and that horse thief over there,” he nodded towards the darker man.

And then it hit her like a ton of bricks.

She was in Skyrim.

The realization was so startling, she tuned out the blond man’s – Ralof, she supposed – words. She discovered that pinching yourself with tied hands was not very easy. Though, she did not awaken in her own bed, surrounded by three cats and copious amounts of dirty laundry, leading her to the unlikely conclusion that this was fucking real.

She could see the wooden walls of Helgen now, and remembered that she was headed for her own execution, which she knew would be interrupted by Alduin’s arrival. Or so she hoped, anyway.

The carriage lurched to a stop a little later and Ralof turned to her again.

“Let’s go; shouldn’t keep the Gods waiting for us,” he spoke. Was there a hint of sympathy in his expression? Obviously, she wasn’t a Stormcloak, he had to have known that.

Descending the carriage, she gulped and looked down when Lokir ran, subsequently being shot dead by two arrows through his torso. It was much worse in reality than it ever had been in the game.

She knew her best chance would be to tag along with someone when she escaped Helgen. She’d taken a few self defense classes and she could shoot a bow with passable accuracy, but killing? Something told her it would be less easy than it was behind the computer screen.

“Wait, you there. Step forward.”

She obeyed.        

“Who are you?”

She gave her name, pathetically stuttering on the first syllable like an idiot.

Hadvar mumbled something and directed a question to the Imperial captain, who snapped at him that she should be killed as well.

Bitch.

“You picked a bad time to return to Skyrim, kinsman,” Hadvar sighed and directed her towards her left, where the other prisoners stood waiting for their demise.

The noise that echoed through the mountains made the hair on the back of her neck stick up in protest.

She pitied the Stormcloak who volunteered to be the first on the block. If he’d waited only a few minutes, maybe he would have lived.

The axe swung through the air and landed on the block with a dull thud. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced down the bile that threatened to make its way up through her throat.

A roar reverberated through the sky once again, but the Imperial woman dismissed it.

“Next: the Nord in rags!”

Fuck, that was her, wasn’t it?

She walked towards the executioner on unsteady legs. The only thing going through her mind was the fact that she knew Alduin would attack, and she knew she would live through the execution.

As she knelt down to place her head on the block, she turned towards the executioner in an effort to avoid looking at the dismembered head below her. From where she knelt, she had a perfect view as a black shadow descended from the heavens and shrieked, causing the world to erupt in chaos.

Knocked down and disoriented, she tried gathering her wits, but failed. Luckily Ralof was there to pick her up and half carry, half drag her into the tower.

She shivered, mumbling incoherently and from the smell, she was pretty sure she’d thrown up all over herself. She had been prepared for dragons. She knew what they were capable of and how to defeat them.

But how the fuck did you kill an evil, flying and fire-breathing Thomas the Tank Engine?

Notes:

I'm sure you all know which mod this is.
What? The tags said crack. And crack is what I delivered.