Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, Dragonball, The Dresden Files, The Elder Scrolls, Fullmetal Alchemist, Halo, Harry Potter, The Marvel Cinematic Universe, Percy Jackson, Stargate, or any of the others that I might have missed. If I did, I would be so farcically rich it would defy imagination.
And yeah, I know I said I wouldn't start this story until I finished A Different Legend, but this story just wouldn't leave me alone, and I keep having so many cool ideas for it, even when I'm trying to write for my other stories, that I have to start puting it on virtual paper.
Close Encounters of The 'Almost Fatal' Kind
Date:4E201, 17th Last Seed/AC118, 9th Qiaoyue
Location: Somewhere in northern Tamriel
The first thing Zuko noticed upon waking was that he was tied up in the back of a wagon. The second was the agni-damned barbarian quartermaster's incessant chatter. The third was the irritated blond nord in his personal space.
"You're finally awake. Do you think you could get your friend to shut up? We've been trying for hours."
Zuko groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to massage his throbbing forehead as best he could with his bound wrists.
'Nasty headache, blurred vision, can't remember how I got here, and this guy smells like he hasn't bathed in a week. Just lovely. The only thing I can say for certain is that I have a concussion.'
"Sokka, as your commanding officer I am ordering you to stop talking and tell me what in Koh's lair is going on."
"It's gonna be a bit hard to do both those-"
"I'm not in the mood for your lip soldier."
"We got captured, sir."
Zuko was somewhat annoyed that he had to open his aching eyes in order to shoot the water peasant a withering death glare.
"I gathered that."
"Shut up back there!"
The Prince glanced over at the source of the reprimand, and just about managed to make out the Legion uniform.
"Graghlagmnaghahh . . ." Zuko moaned, burying his face in his hands once more.
"And you'll never guess who we're sharing the wagon with." Sokka said in an unacceptably (false)cheerful tone.
"Please tell me it's not that weird priest guy who started following us back in Colovia."
"I have a name you know." interjected a voice Zuko recognized as belonging to the elderly one-eyed dunmer they had first encountered a bit over a week ago.
"Oh, yeah he's here too, but actually I was referring to Ulfric."
The Prince glanced over and confirmed that the Jarl of Windhelm was indeed sitting, bound and gagged at the far end of the opposite bench.
"Damn you Stormcloa-"
"A-ah-ah-ah-ah!" Sokka cut off the as yet unidentified sixth passenger. "Remember the agreement you had with me and Ralof?"
". . ."
"No-no-no, I wanna hear you say it out loud, 'cause it seems like your memory's getting a bit fuzzy."
"If I stay quiet, you and Ralof won't hit me anymore?"
"Exactly." Sokka and the blond nord, presumably Ralof, answered in unison.
The Prince quirked a non-existent eyebrow, and Sokka was all too happy to oblige his silent inquiry.
"So when Mr. Horse-Thief over here figured out who he was traveling with, he started freaking out, screaming, praying, and blaspheming all over the place, 'till Ralof and I managed to knock the wind out of him."
"Thank Talos for small miracles." the Priest chuckled.
"It's a little late for brown-nosing, Dunmer." Ralof snapped.
"Isn't the idea that one should not go about telling others which gods they may or may not worship one of the founding principles of your revolution?"
"And you expect me to believe that an elf would not only tolerate the worship of Talos, but practice it himself?"
"So I'm curious," Sokka sniped before the argument could escalate "do you guys give Heimskr a script to preach from or something, or is it the other way around?"
Ralof opened his mouth to retort, but Zuko had had more than enough by now.
"Everyone just shut up!"
They rode through the forest in silence after that, save for the creaking and clattering of the wagons and the occasional whicker from the horses.
Eventually Ralof broke the silence, having spotted a town ahead.
"This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on girl from here."
"Think she can get us out of this bind?" Sokka asked hopefully. Ralof turned to him incredulously.
"Hey, it's just a shot in the dark."
They lapsed back into silence for several seconds before Ralof spoke up again.
"What village are you from, Horse-Thief?"
"You're not going to hit me again for answering?"
"A nord's last thoughts should be of home."
"Rorikstead. I'm from Rorikstead."
The carts rumbled through the gates and across a square before turning down the main street. Much as Zuko had seen in every other settlement he'd visited in Tamriel, a significant number of the buildings were abandoned and decaying, the population still recovering from the so called 'Great War'. It somewhat reminded the Prince of holos from just after the Third Invasion, of those towns and villages lucky enough to escape Covenant bombardment or occupation.
"We're stopping! Why are we stopping?" the Horse-Thief panicked.
"Well obviously they want to buy us a round of mead and prostitutes." Sokka snarked, with nary a glance at the chopping block across the plaza.
The prisoners were quickly unloaded from the carts and herded into several lines, and a female officer called out;
"Step toward the block when we call your name! One at a time!"
"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!"
"Face your death with some courage, Thief."
A Legion clerk stepped up to their line.
"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."
"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric."
"Ralof of Riverwood."
"Shouldn't keep the Gods waiting." he quiped as he was led off.
"Lokir of Rorikstead."
"No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" the thief nearly screamed, shoulder checking the Clerk and sprinting up the street.
"Archers!" the Officer called.
A moment later a shaft sprouted between Lokir's shoulders, causing him to scream and stumble. The horse-thief kept running for a moment longer before a second shot slammed through his abdomen, followed swiftly by a third arrowhead erupting from his adam's apple even as he collapsed, skidding to a stop facedown on the cobblestone, the short red smear behind him quickly being obscured by a growing pool of blood. The whole incident had lasted maybe five seconds, and left Zuko feeling sick.
"Anyone else feel like running?" the Officer snarled.
"Jobari of Skingrad." the slightly ill looking clerk continued, and the Priest strode off even as he mumbled a quiet prayer, presumably for the now deceased thief.
"You two. Who are you? You're not on the list."
Zuko drew himself up as best he could, letting the full force of his indignation show as he prepared to give the hapless clerk the chewing out of his life-
"Forget the list, they go to the block."
"By your orders, Captain." the Clerk answered tiredly.
"What are you people playing at?! We're foreign diplomats!" Sokka snarled.
The Captain snorted.
"Diplomats? And I'm the bastard daughter of Emperor Martin."
"Your Empire will burn for this." Zuko spat. "When my people learn what happened here, they'll make you wish for another war with the Thalmor."
The Captain snorted again.
"Get them out of here."
As a trio of legionaries began manhandling them toward the block, a shout rang out;
"Captain Proctus, what in Oblivion do you think you're doing?!"
"General Tullius sir!" the Captain answered, snapping to attention as the General marched up to her.
"Do I look senile to you Captain?"
"No sir!"
"Then why, pray tell, did you feel the need to remind me of my own name and rank?"
"I was merely acknowledging your presence, sir!"
"And how exactly does acknowledging my presence answer my question?"
"It does not sir! I was merely observing the formalities sir!"
"Well then, since you're so enamored with formalities, would you mind explaining to me why you were about to have the official envoy of the Raavan Union beheaded?"
"I was not aware of his identity, sir!"
"Do you speak cyrodilic Captain?"
"Sir?"
"Cyrodilic, Captain! Do you speak it?!"
"Yes sir!"
"Are you deaf?!"
"No sir!"
"Then how exactly did you come to be unaware of the Prince's identity when his subordinate just informed you of it?!"
"I assumed he was bluffing sir!"
"Well you know what they say about assuming Captain!"
"It makes an ass out of you and me sir!"
"Incorrect Captain! If we were civilians, assuming would only make an ass of you and me. But we are members of the Imperial Legion Captain, which means that assuming makes an ass of the Emperor! And the Emperor does not appreciate being made an ass of, does he Captain?!"
"No sir!"
It was at this point that the Dragon landed on the keep.
All heads turned as it let forth a roar that (literally) split the sky, unleashing a rain of flaming stones, before taking off once more and spewing a stream of flame into the now scattering crowd below. Zuko found himself ducking and weaving his way across the square with Sokka in tow, dodging falling rocks and fleeing soldiers as they sprinted toward the nearby watchtower.
Several chaotic moments later they charged through the doorway, past Ralof, who quickly slammed the door shut behind them, and into the lower level of the tower. The circular room was occupied by just under a half dozen Stormcloaks, including Ralof and Ulfric, as well as the priest Jobari. One of Ulfric's guards glared harshly at them.
"What are you thinking Ralof, letting them in here?"
"They're not our enemies, I didn't think leaving them to die would be very hospitable of me."
"They've also made it quite clear in the past that they're not our friends either!"
"Did you not notice the damned Dragon out there?!"
"Enough!" Ulfric snapped. "Cut them loose; we're going to need every hand here if we're going to get out alive. Sven, go up to the second floor, see what's going on outside."
Ralof quickly set to work on their bindings while the other guard headed upstairs. A deafening crash and a flash of fire several seconds later informed them of his fate.
"I'll go take a look." Zuko offered, starting up the stairs.
A moment later Sokka, Jobari and Ralof followed a safe distance behind him. Reaching the second floor, the only evidence of Sven Zuko could find was several oddly shaped lumps of charcoal mixed in with the rubble that had once been a significant portion of the tower wall.
Another Stormcloak came charging up the stairs.
"Get back down- wait, no jump through here we'll be right behind you!"
"What?!" Sokka squawked.
"Bunch of Legionaries trying to break down the door, jump over to that inn, we'll follow with the Jarl!" the rebel barked as he dashed back down the stairs.
Not being particularly enthusiastic about getting caught up in a civil war today, Zuko took a running start and leapt out the hole in the tower, feeding chi into his legs to absorb the impact with the attic floor. Sokka followed a moment later, yelping as he, not being nearly as skilled in the use of his chi as Zuko, rolled his ankle in a rather painful-looking fashion.
"Hold on, I'll be down in a moment!" Jobari called.
"No!-"
The elderly dunmer landed with a brutal snap and a strangled groan as his leg blew out from under him.
"I tried to warn you." Zuko snapped as he moved to assist the old fool, glancing up to make sure Ralof wasn't also about to jump. Ralof for his part was looking down with concern and no small amount of trepidation, until he spotted something in his peripheral vision, leading him to literally dive down the stairs. A moment later the Dragon slammed onto the side of the tower, clinging to the rock like a bat as it stuck its head through the gap and unleashed a roaring firestorm.
Seizing Sokka and the priest by the collar, Zuko dragged them over to the nearest hole in the floor and dropped through, the three of them landing in an undignified, groaning, but distinctly un-immolated heap.
Disentangling himself, Zuko peered cautiously out the nearest window, confirming that the Dragon had moved on to burn down a different part of town. Behind him a soft golden glow appeared as the priest healed his leg and Sokka's ankle. Moving on to the next window, the Prince found himself gazing upon a much less reassuring sight than the previous one. In the alley next to the inn, the Clerk from earlier was torn between attempting to tie a tourniquet around the arm of a badly bleeding older man, and trying to cajole a young boy out of the middle of the street. The Boy, for his part, was frozen in terror and confusion, and was oblivious both to the legionary's pleas, and the shadow cast by the Dragon circling overhead.
Leaping out the window and dashing across the street, Zuko grabbed the child by the armpits and charged back toward the alley. His flight was interrupted, however, by an earthshaking crash behind him. Dropping the panicked child and turning to face the Dragon, Zuko was confronted with a roaring wave of flame. Lashing out with a jet of his own fire, the Prince knew he didn't have even the slightest chance of matching the Dragon of raw firebending power. Instead he sought to redirect the bulk of the flames away from himself and the Boy.
Even so, he found himself beaten back, withdrawing step by step for a searing eternity, pushing his endurance and breath control to their very limits as his steady, measured respiration gave way to ragged panting. His lungs screamed in agony and his vision and balance began to sway dangerously as his brain struggled to find oxygen he simply didn't have, until, inevitably, he stumbled. Raising his hand in a laughably feeble attempt to ward off agonizing death for just a moment longer, Zuko was startled by someone grabbing him from behind and dragging him the last few feet into the alley. Collapsing onto his back and taking deep, aching gasps of air, Zuko spotted his rescuers.
"Your hair is on fire." Sokka and the Boy said in unison.
Still too short of breath to bend properly, the Prince was forced to beat out his smoldering phoenix-tail the old fashioned way, much to his embarrassment.
"Still alive, your highness?" The Clerk asked, moving over as Jobari began tending to his injured companion.
"For now." Zuko panted in response.
"Well stick with me if you want to stay that way."
Sokka snorted.
"And you think you'll have better luck against the Dragon? Last time I checked, Zuko was the only one of us who can breath fire."
"Actually I was planning on getting out of here."
"Damn you and your being sensible. I was having fun mocking your nonexistent delusions of grandeur."
Giving Sokka an unimpressed look, the Clerk turned back to his companion;
"Gunnar, can you walk?"
"Well enough." The old man answered.
"It'll have to do." Facing Zuko and Sokka he continued:
"We'll make for the main gate, it's not far. If that doesn't work, we head for the Keep, there's supposed to be an old escape tunnel under the dungeons somewhere."
"I think my parents were headed for the gate, before we got separated." The Boy put in hopefully.
"We'll see if we can find them." The Clerk reassured.
"I didn't catch your name." Jobari put in as the six of them set off down the now deserted street.
"Hadvar." the Clerk answered, checking the corner of a nearby alley that ran parallel to the wall of the inner bailey.
"We'll have to cut through here, the street looks like it's blocked ahead. Keep your heads down and stick close to the wall."
No-one raised any objections, so the crept swiftly down the narrow passage, trying in vain to ignore the screams echoing all around them. Reaching a corner, Hadvar stopped.
"Alright, the gate is just around this corner and across the square." He said peering around the corner. "Try not to get seperated; someone should probably carry Haming. We're going to sprint on my- shit. The gate's blocked."
Suddenly turning in a panic, Hadvar slammed Zuko and Haming into the wall.
"Back! Back!"
An instant later the Dragon swooped down to perch directly above them, roaring and spewing fire over the square. Sokka and Jobari quickly dove to join them in the meagre safety of the beast's blind spot, however Gunnar wasn't so fortunate; the impact of the Dragon's landing had knocked him fro his feet, and even as Sokka turned to help him, the creature spotted him. The old man barely had time to scream as its jaws snapped shut around his torso, muffling his cries as it lifted its head and snapped it back and forth rapidly, like a lion-dog killing a hare-shrew. Disinterestedly tossing Gunnar's mangled corpse into the wall of a nearby tenement, the Dragon took flight once more, burning a deadly line across the square as he flew overhead.
Giving Haming's shoulder a quick squeeze, Hadvar turned to Zuko.
"We make for the Keep."
Zuko nodded.
They sprinted the last few yards down the alley, making a hairpin turn around the corner as they continued parallel to the wall. Suddenly the Dragon was overhead again, and fire washed over several knots of embattled Legion archers and battlemages, as well as any unfortunate enough to be near them. Far more problematic to the five of them, however, was the screaming tide of humanity fleeing before the blaze. Zuko managed to hold fast, as did Sokka, stepping in front of Jobari and acting as a breakwater against the wave of flesh and contagious terror. Hadvar, and the boy on his shoulders, did not fare so well; the crowd washed over them like an avalanche of bone and flesh, trampling them under hundreds of feet.
Horrified, Zuko forged desperately toward where he had last seen them. When the crowd refused to part, he tried flaring his flames, and while those directly in front of him attempted to shy away, the weight of bodies behind them drove them back, and he was forced to extinguish his fire, lest they be burned. Resorting to simply pouring chi into his arms and bodily shoving people aside, the Prince spotted Haming pinned beneath the stampede. Lunging forward, he managed to reach the boy before they were cut off again. Unfortunately he lost his own footing in the process.
Pulling Haming toward himself, Zuko kicked and bit and punched and clawed his way back toward the surface. Feeling a hand seize hold of him, the Prince nearly set its owner ablaze before he realized that it was pulling him up. Turning to see Sokka, one hand clenching the scruff of Zuko's neck, the other clamped firmly around Jobari's forearm, Zuko gave a nod of thanks before lifting Haming onto his shoulders and leading the way to the inner gate.
Winning free of the crowd, they staggered wearily across the inner bailey.
"Come on! Into the keep!"
Looking up, Zuko spotted Ralof, waving impatiently as he held the massive doors for them. Not one to look the rare proverbial gift ostrich-horse in the mouth, The prince and his battered party staggered into the (relative) safety of the Imperial stronghold.
A/N: Regarding Jobari; He's not the Dragonborn. He used to be in a MUCH earlier draft, but I quickly decided that I didn't want to do an OC Dovahkiin, and at this point his role is pretty minor, and the only reason he hasn't been cut is because he's somewhat important to a few other people's character development. As for who WILL be the Dragonborn, I don't plan on spoiling just yet, but suffice to say "it's complicated".
Regarding the weirdness with Zuko and Sokka, the Avatar world in this story is pretty heavily AU. There was a single point of divergence, but as hinted early in the chapter, that point was an alien invasion, with multiple subsequent attempts, which began before Roku died, so the Avatar stuff is gonna be pretty different.
Also, while this story will be a massive multi-crossover, most of the stuff other than Avatar and Elder Scrolls will be taking a back seat for the first arc or two. I tried to find ways to make them more relevant earlier on, but that quickly led to the late story timeline getting really messed up. So sorry to everyone excited for space battles and superhero smackdowns, those aren't gonna be for a while. But rest assured, they WILL be there.
Peace.
