A/N: This will be relatively boring chapter! Feel free to skip, as it is only the Helgen introduction scene. There are of course some differences, and you'll be a little confused next chapter but nothing that won't be cleared in a few paragraphs. See you next chapter?

I ran to the river and dove straight in

I prayed the water would drown out the din

But as the water filled my mouth

It couldn't wash the echoes out

But as the water filled my mouth

It couldn't wash the echoes out

"Drumming Song – Florence + The Machine"

I was not having the best of days.

I cracked open my eyelids and cast a feeble detect life spell to make up for my useless eyes. My head pounded with a vengeance, as if my brain was revolting and trying to escape my skull. I tried to lift my hand to check if there was any blood, and promptly discovered that my wrists were bound together with rough leather bindings. The skin was raw and tender around them, and I knew if I pulled against them much more I would only hurt myself.

"Hey! You're finally awake!"

My head shot up at the sound, and my spell provided the details my eyes could not. The glowing outline of a stocky man, positioned in a way that made it apparent his words were directed at me. His hands were tied as well, but his friendliness seemed strange in the sticky situation we were in.

"You were crossing the border too, eh? Walked right into that Imperial ambush. The name's Ralof…" He continued cheerily, ignoring my silence. I was too busy trying to figure out why I was bound and stuck on a rickety wagon with a bunch of strange men. I heard voices calling out to their superiors, and then the horrifying words that clarified everything. Stormcloak prisoners.

Lovely.

"Damn you rebels!" Another occupant of the wagon, a scrawny, hunched man spat at Ralof. "The Empire was nice and lazy before you came along. I could've had that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell by now."

I raised a brow. He was nothing but a petty horse-thief, and I didn't have the patience to listen to his complaints.

"We're all sisters and brothers in binds now, horse-thief." Ralof said, shaking his head sadly. The man sitting next to me grunted irritably. He was out of place among us, a large, finely dressed man among beat-up prisoners. I shivered, feeling the sharp wind cut at my bare arms. We were dressed in rags; I would give anything for the thick furs that the man was wearing. I noticed he was also different in that he had a piece of cloth around his head, gagging him. Hence the grunting.

"What's his problem?" The horse-thief whined.

"Watch your tongue!" Ralof's friendly tone was gone, replaced by stinging anger. "That's Ulfric Stormcloak, true High King of Skyrim!"

I felt all the blood drain from my face, and the horse-thief made a strangled sound of terror. He put my horror in words. "The leader of the rebellion? If they've captured you… oh Divines, where are they taking us?"

I sat back, trying to drink in the fact that I was probably going to die soon. Ulfric was the definition of a traitor to the Empire- and traitors are executed. If we were with him, then there was only one logical way this could end.

Way to go. I berated myself. You should have listened to Borir. 'Just wait for the war to be over' he said… 'It'll be fine!' I said…

A bitter laugh slipped from my throat. I suppose the war will be over soon…

The two men across from me had continued their conversation, but I hadn't been paying attention. It wasn't until Ralof announced that we were at the end of the line that I realized my spell had faded in my panic. I cast it once more, and scanned the area. Several tall forms were mounted on horses, pointed ears and billowing robes telling me they were probably Thalmor. When the carriage lurched to a stop I felt the overwhelming panic start to rush over me. This really is the end. There's no one to save me now.

Imperial soldiers were everywhere, keeping order among the prisoners in the square , calling to one another and yelling orders to the rebels. They called us one at a time, announcing our name and hometown. Ralof of Riverwood. Ulfric Stormcloak, jarl of Windhelm.

When they called the horse-thief, he was less than thrilled.

"Lokir of Rorikstead!"

"No!" Lokir cried. "You can't do this! I'm not a rebel!" He shot panicked glances around then town, then he suddenly bolted down the cobble road away from us.

It was not a wise decision. A prompt call for archers from the captain sent a volley of arrows raining towards him, and no amount of running would save him. He collapsed with a agonized cry, and lay still on the cold stones. I held back a wave of nausea as I watched the life force vanish from him. Perhaps if I stayed stoic in these final moments I may at least gain entrance into Sovngarde.

When I stepped forward, the Imperial only looked at me with confustion. "Who… who are you?"

So I wasn't supposed to be here. I shifted uncomfortably, feeling all nearby attention directing itself at me. "My name is Raeyln. I'm from Cheydinhal."

The man tilted his head, and I supposed that he was probably leering at my face. "You don't look Imperial."

I sighed inwardly. I didn't know exactly what I looked like, but I'd gotten the comment enough times to know that I wouldn't fool anybody into thinking I was anything other than the Breton I was. I shook my head. "I'm Breton. We moved to Cyrodiil when I was young."

He nodded, and turned to the tall woman beside him. "She's not on the list!" He said quietly.

"Forget the list!" The woman practically barked at him. "She goes to the block!"

I held back a venomous retort, and the soldier turned back to me. "Sorry miss. We'll make sure your remains are returned to your family."

I shot a hateful glance at the woman, and followed the man to a central area. I could smell blood and metal, and could make out a hooded figure in the center of the square. He was holding a large axe. We were going to be beheaded.

The first man went bravely. He snapped at the priestess overseeing our deaths, and stepped up to the block with barely a quiver. He knelt, and with a horrible swooshing sound, the axe came down. I shuddered as for a split second the outline of his head separated from his body, and then his figure vanished.

"Next, Raelyn of Cheydinhal!"

So soon? I wanted to cry, to fight, to do something, but I was powerless. I stepped forward, unsure where to kneel, but the soldiers did the work for me, shoving me to the ground and pressing my head down on a sickeningly slick surface. The warm wetness pressed on my cheek, and I clenched my eyes uselessly against what I knew was coming. I waited.

But it never came.

There was a monstrous roar, and someone screamed. "What in Oblivion is that?" One of the soldiers yelled. I opened my eyes just in time to see a huge figure swoop down from the sky. I couldn't believe what I was- or was not, more appropriately- seeing. A massive beast with a long neck and huge head. It perched on the top of one of the towers as if it was a tree branch, and let out a strange call. Impossibly, a wave of pure force emanated from its gaping maw, knocking me away from my position at the block. I lay dazed for a moment before a familiar voice came over me.

"Get up, Breton! Get to the tower!" It was Ralof. I looked up, and was swiftly pulled to my feet by a pair of strong hands. A small shove sent me tumbling in the right direction, and I found my way into the tower Ralof had mentioned.

There was several more people in the room. One was on the floor, another figure kneeling over her. I looked on sadly as the light of her life-force faded slowly, becoming dimmer and dimmer until it puttered out. I was about to give my condolences to the man huddled over her body when a boom rocked the tower. I could feel heat on my face, and rocks crashed above us. The creature, which I stubbornly refused to believe was the dragon that I knew it was, must have broken through a higher level. I found my way to the stairs, climbing them quickly. I felt a breeze, and stumbled to a stop before a gaping hole in the wall. Ralof appeared behind me.

"We have to jump."He said somberly, and I peered out of the tower, hoping to see someone on the ground.

"Can you help me?" I asked, not wanting to give anything away about my blindness. "I might not make it." No answer came, but I felt him lift me up, and suddenly I was airborne, sailing through the burning air. I landed hard on a wood floor, and heard Ralof thump down behind me. I pushed myself to my feet, trailing after him as the descended a set of stairs to the bottom floor of house, and then leading us onto the street. I couldn't quite process what was happening. Screams echoed around me, the smell of smoke and blood filled my nose, and lives blinked out too quickly around me.

"Still alive prisoner? Stay with me if you want to stay that way." It was the soldier who had shown some pity for me. I trailed after him, not knowing what else I could do, and prayed to every Divine and Daedra I knew of to help us.

"Get down!" I fell to my knees as the dragon swooped down on top of us, landing on the wall I was leaning against. He released another strange call, and intense heat blistered my arms as I raised them to protect myself. Before I could recover I had been shoved forward again, and I ran helplessly after the soldiers form. It wasn't until we came to a large courtyard that, in better times, probably would have been beautiful. Now I could hear the flames heating at the buildings around us, smell the ash floating in the choked air. Another form was waiting by the intimidating form of the keep. Ralof's voice came above the clamor.

"Get out of my way, Hadvar! You can't stop us from escaping this time!"

I shook my head. How could they argue about the law when death and fire rained around us. I blindly made my way towards the nearest man, who I discovered to be Ralof. I heard heavy doors swing open, and was pulled into an empty room. I realized it wasn't quite empty when Ralof sighed sadly. He knelt over a body, saying a small prayer. He turned to me.

"Take her equipment. You'll get more use out of it than her, now." I felt his hands grab my wrists, and with a swift flick of his knife the bindings loosened and fell to the floor.

I looked down. I couldn't hide it anymore, and I felt the shame fill me. "I… I don't know where the body is."

He turned, staring at me. "What? You can't…" He went quiet. "Oh."

I felt my face get hot as he said the words I hated most of all. "You're blind."

He moved towards the wall, picking through something, and thrust several pieces of armor and a short sword towards me. "Well if you've made it this far then you've done well. May as well have some protection." I nodded my thanks, pulling the chainmail shirt over my rags and holding the sword comfortably in my left hand. It had been a while, but hopefully I still had the skills my father had taught me when I was younger.

Ralof stepped away towards the wall and pulled something, a switch or lever of some kind. I heard a creaking of metal and knew I had been correct. I stepped around him, preparing to step through the door.

"There's a wall right beyond-"

"I can get around perfectly fine." I snapped. It was unintentionally hostile. Even I didn't quite know how I managed to find my way around, but I very rarely became completely disoriented in a room or area, at least only a little more than someone with true sight. My father said I just had excellent spatial awareness; I liked to attribute some of it to my spells.

He went silent, and my small amount of guilt made me let him take point. We came upon some more Legion soldiers, but these men were not nearly as friendly as Hadvar had been. They charged us, and I whipped the blade across the nearest soldier's chest. I would never be as skilled as someone with sight, but I could hold my own even against a decent swordsman. His life force disappeared from my vision, and I turned to see Ralof standing over two quickly dimming bodies. He regarded me coolly, and I felt a spark of pride.

We continued through the keep, until we finally broke from the stone walls into a natural cavern. An earthshaking crash shook the cave, and we both whirled in the direction we had come. I didn't know exactly what had happened, but it was clear the there was no exit where there had been several moments ago. Ralof described the scene pretty well with the string of curses that erupted from him. "Well we're not going back the way we came, that's for sure."

This terrain was considerably more difficult for me to traverse. I couldn't sense the ground underfoot, and fell several times, soon becoming soaked from the freezing creek running through the cave. When we came upon a area crawling with frostbite spiders I spent more time tripping around the cavern, watching the spindly forms of the spiders hissing at Ralof while he quickly dispatched them. By the time we finally made it to the open air outside, I felt thoroughly useless. All the pride from my earlier success was gone, and I was just grateful to have a semi-smooth road under my feet.

"I think we're the only ones who made it out." Ralof said, an edge of regret in his voice. I wondered if he wished he had invited Hadvar to come with us. There had been an undertone of familiarity between them, and whatever conflicts had arisen Ralof didn't seem like the kind of person to wish a horrible death on someone.

"Riverwood is down this road. Gerder will probably take us in for the night, and we can split in the morning. I'll be headed to Windhelm; You should come by someday if you wish to help the Stormcloaks in our efforts."

His words were kindly meant, but I knew what he was most likely thinking. How could a blind woman barely up to my shoulder help the war effort? I decided to take them as given.

"Perhaps I will." I said, summoning the most gracious smile I could muster. We stood awkwardly for a moment, before I started down the road ahead of him. He hurried after me, but the only obstacle we encountered on the road was a few wolves, which we easily dispatched. When Ralof let out a relieved sigh and the smell of cooking smoke drifted to me I knew we had come upon Riverwood.

As we entered town, I felt the eyes of the townspeople on us. No wonder, of course. We were scratched and bloody, covered in soot and dirt. My armor didn't feel like it fit quite right, and it probably didn't look like it did either. When a tall woman ushered us into a cozy farmhouse, and we found ourselves in the warm embrace of a temporary home, the day caught up with me. Exhaustion hit me like a massive wave, and if I could see, blackness probably would've descended in the final moments before I collapsed into unconsciousness.

Eh? Eh?

Lots of action-type stuff this chapter, although not really battles. Please leave constructive criticism and anything else you would like in a review! Love all mah readers

~ElderSkie

(Clarification: Raelyn, our Breton friend is blind but uses a variation of a detect life to "see". She can see simple outlines of creatures, if they're holding anything, simple things like that. She can't see anything else, but has a sort of awareness that keeps her from running into walls. That's about it however; Other than that she's completely blind.)