A/N: I don't like these things, so I'll be quick. Thanks all for joining in on my story. I've been on Fanfiction for a while, but this is my first story on this site. I would greatly appreciate any comments and reviews you have. I have a general idea of this story in my head, but I am open to ideas if you'd like to participate in how this story takes shape. Thanks again for reading. This is a story. As such, the main character will have to grow some in order to find resolution and I will spend a good deal developing the story and action. This story is rated M for violence, sexual situations, sexual assault, and language. I had considered starting in media res and do flashbacks, but I decided to start from the beginning so that I can develop the character before the major pivotal points. Solene is weak and highly dependent on others. She will have to change if she is to survive the war, dragons, and worse - politics.
A rare blue sky greeted Solene as she opened her eyes. She was jostled about gently in the back of the wagon that her father drove slowly up the winding path of the Pale Pass. She sat up in excitement as they left craggy paths of Cyrodiil to her family's ancestral home – Skyrim. They had finally gone through the mountain pass and a forest of pine greeted them. Solene hunched over the back of the driver's seat.
"How much farther to Falkreath, Papa?" she asked, her excitement evident in her bright voice.
Her father chuckled and reached an arm back to ruffle her short blonde hair. "Not much farther, my dear. We should make it before midmorning."
"I'd swear," commented her mother, sitting by her father's side, "that you two don't miss Bruma at all."
"Of course I do," muttered her father solemnly which brought a pang of guilt to Solene's chest. "But I'd go where ever the Gods bid me if I could keep my family together and safe."
"Do they really fight the bans here, Papa?" repeated Solene. "Tell me about it again," she urged, resting her arms across the back of the bench and leaning her head across them.
"They say that Ulfric Stormcloak, enraged by the High King's submission to the Empire and their puppeteer's the Aldmderi Dominion, marched straight into Solitude and utterly destroyed the High King with his voice."
As if on cue, Solene gasped. "How, Papa?"
"We Nords call it the Thu'um, the language of the dragons."
"He speaks in dragon tongue?" she asked, eyes glistening even though she has heard the tale many times since the news reached them in Cyrodiil.
"Aye, daughter. He learned it from the Greybeards up in their monastery at the Throat of the World," he said pointing to the peak of the mountain looming above them.
"Brundi, stop it," scolded her mother. "It was stories like this that urged your daughter to pick a fight with those Thalmor. She wouldn't even be rotting in the Bruma dungeon, she'd be in the capital city or worse, shipped off to the Summerset Isles or some other Gods-forsaken place."
"We're safe now, aren't we, Helsa? Besides I'm proud of Solene. She stood up for her beliefs when we were too scared to do so. We call ourselves Nords? Cyrodiil made us soft, made us too blind to the weaknesses of the so-called Empire we served."
Helsa sighed heavily. "Look at all we've lost. We lost our shop and there's no way for me to fix the mess you made with the Jeaurrant's from Chorral. They will never take Solene now and she's only getting older," she pouted.
Solene scrunched up her nose. "Horace Jeaurrant was an Imperial," she said distastefully.
Helsa scoffed. "You didn't feel that way three months ago when you met him. When did you become a purist?"
"When Ulfric reminded us Nords that we should be proud of who we are," she beemed. "Right, Papa?"
Brundi grinned and nodded while Helsa crossed her arms over her chest and slumped down into her seat. As the road dipped down into the foliage, cutting through the middle of the hillside, Brundi's grin turned into a flat line across his face and he drew his horse to an immediate stop. Helsa lurched forward with a gasp while Solene's arms slipped off the back of the bench and her forehead smacked against the wooden frame.
"Brundi! What are you thinking?" cried Helsa, gripping his arm to steady herself.
"Quiet," he hissed softly.
"I don't hear anything," she complained.
"Exactly. The birds have flown off and the last fox I saw was running past us, going the other way."
"What? I didn't see a fox," she argued, trying to abate her unease with disbelief.
Solene stood up straight in the back of the wagon and pulled a dagger from the belt winding around her blue dress. "Something's coming," she whispered.
"Or already here," added her father on edge.
Helsa pulled at Solene's arm hissing violently. "Get down and put that away!"
"Yes, girl. Put that away before you get hurt," came a deep feminine voice. Imperial soldiers emerged from the brush while a woman in bright steel armor jumped from the gentle slope forming next to the road and approached the wagon. The officer took off her helm. "What are you doing here at the pass?" she commanded.
"We are merchants, traveling to Skyrim to open a new shop," replied her mother.
The officer eyed the wagon wearily. "And your entire livelihood remains in just one trunk?" Her gaze turned to the girl whom she scrutinized in great detail. Solene and her parents sat in uncomfortable silence.
"We suffered a great loss at our shop. We lost most of our wares, so we came home to our families in hopes of starting over," added Brundi.
The officer didn't take her eyes off Solene. "Do I know you, girl? Which city did you come from?"
Solene had to think quickly, but wisely. Cheydinhal suffered from riots a few weeks back, so she used that. "Cheydinhal, ma'am. My parents owned an armory there." She looked back at her parents who seemed to take some ease with her answer.
The officer's eyes flashed. "Nords? Living in Cheydinhal? Ralith!" She called and an imperial solder in leather armor stepped out of the ranks.
"Ma'am?"
"Where did you say you were from?" she asked, her eyes never leaving Solene.
"Cheydinhal, ma'am" he replied, his voice thick with the accent of a Dunmer. "Me parents own a little shop of the west side of town."
"Right. Any Nord business owners that you know of?"
Ralith scoffed. "Business owners? There weren't hardly any Nords livin there at all. An' if they did, I'd know 'em."
"Thank you, Ralith," she said with a voice void of gratitude. "You are under arrest."
Helsa stood up in her seat. "You can't! What have we done?" Her cries of indignation faltered as Imperial soldiers drew their swords at her action.
"You have lied to Imperial officers and were caught sneaking—" her charges were cut off as men and women cried out charging from the brush that the soldiers had emerged from earlier. "Stormcloaks!" cried the officer. "I knew it! You are rebels!" she sneered at the family.
Brundi held Helsa close while soldiers in blue clashed with soldiers in red. Solene's eyes glistened as she watched the conflict. A man in a large black pelt emerged from the trees shouting orders to the Stormcloaks. "Leave none alive! They must not know of our movements!"
"Give me that!" snarled the officer as she gripped Solene's arm tightly and pulled her from the wagon. She wrenched the dagger from her hand and threw it at the man in black. The dagger burrowed itself into a tree next to his head and his gaze turned towards the officer who grabbed Solene and held her sword at her throat. The man in black eyed the woman with disdain, but showed no emotion when the officer grabbed the girl. He stalked towards the officer who took a few stumbling steps back. Solene heard the woman gasp in her ear as the man took in a large breath, but Solene had already managed to wiggle a small knife from the slit in her dress and stabbed the officer in the thigh. In those quick moments, the officer cried out and threw Solene from her just as a sound like thunder bellowed against her ears and her body flew into the carriage, her head cracking against the side.