Shards of afternoon sun slashed between the pine trees as the caravan made its way down the steep mountain path. The Imperial guardsmen were wary, knowing that they held in their grasp the end of the war. They had the Stormcloak Rebellion's leader - Ulfric Stormcloak - tied and gagged, having been caught trying to rendevous with his Lieutenants on the border to Cyrodill. It had been a rough journey, and the prisoners were beginning to become restless as the caravan neared Helgen. All but one knew what awaited them, and she was about to have a rude awakening.
The Bosmer's eyes creaked open as the carriage she was in jostled over loosely cobbled road. The bruises on her wrists from her bindings ached. It hadn't been long since she was caught in the ambush as she tried to pass into Skyrim. They were rough as they grabbed her, cold gauntlets and rough hands grappling her wrists like they were twigs to be snapped into kindling. Despite Imperials usually being kind to those of Mer descent, she had been handled with just as much contempt as the Stormcloaks being herded into the carriages. She knew that resistance was futile, even though the methodical Imperials would have waited until she was at Helgen to face her fate. Fatigue had overtaken her as the carriage wound its way down the moutain, and she had fallen into a dreamless slumber.
The Stormcloak soldier regarded the Bosmer with interest. His blonde hair framed his rough face, smeared with the dirt of travel and time. His blue eyes pierced through the Bosmer. He was what one would call a true Nord. Hardy, reliable.
"Hey, you, you're finally awake"
His voice was gruff as the carriage grumbled over the harsh road. The Bosmer nodded.
"Got caught trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."
He looked towards the ragged man, whose forehead was creased into a frown.
"Damn you Stormcloaks. I could have been halfway to Hammerfell by now. Elf, you and I shouldn't be here. It's these bloody Stormcloaks the Empire wants."
The Nord man sitting across from the Bosmer sighed.
"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now."
The carriage jolted violently over a loose stone in the road, a muffled groan came from the man beside the Bosmer. The thief watched him with curiosity.
"What's up with him?"
The Nord man looked at the theif incredulously.
"That's Ulfric Stormcloak, true High King of Skyrim. I suggest you watch your tongue."
The warning in his words scared the Bosmer, her fear was only heightened by the agitation of the thief as he began to wriggle.
"Ulfric Stormcloak.. I thought.. I thought.. Oh Gods, if they have him, where are they taking us?"
The Bosmer looked up as they made their way into Helgen. Smooth stone towers leered down upon the caravan as it curved through the streets. She sighed. Freedom was never an option; she'd spent months preparing for her border crossing to escape out of Cyrodiil, out of the zombie infested Ayelid ruins she'd been hiding in. Now she was stuck. Bound and headed to what the Nords called Sovngarde, if it even existed. The caravan shunted into the main square of Helgen, and the prisoners were lead out of the carriage. A young Imperial stood before them, a scroll of names in one hand, quill in another. Despite his armour, he looked almost scholarly. His voice sounded clear as a bell.
"Ralof of Riverwood."
The blonde Nord stepped forward, exchanged glances with the young Imperial and muttered something under his breath. Sadness clouded the Imperial's dark eyes. He whispered something as Ralof was guided over to the Headsman. Shaking the growing mist from his eyes, he cleared his throat and spoke again.
"Lokir of Rorikstead."
The thief stumbled forward, his voice wavering as he pleaded.
"I'm not with them, I'm innocent, I tell you!"
The Bosmer looked down as he attempted to escape his captors. She heard the swish of the arrow as he fell to the ground only meters away. The Imperial continued, clearing his throat once more.
"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."
The gagged man walked forward with his head held high, marching himself over to the headsman. The young Imperial looked to the Bosmer.
"Excuse me, but, who are you? You're not on our list."
She stepped forward.
"My name is Wulf Weard. I hail from Cyrodiil."
Her voice was stony. There was no time for weakness now, she would only be a failure if she broke down. The young Imperial's face crinkled with concern.
"It's not usual for a Bosmer to come alone to Skyrim. What was your business here?"
Wulf smirked.
"None of yours."
The young Imperial sighed. Today couldn't get any worse. He gestured for Wulf to walk over to the headsman. She complied, resigned to her fate. The headsman was clad in black, his axe as long as his arm. The first Stormcloak was lead to the block. Wulf looked ahead, blocking each wave of pure fear with her will. The dull fwhump of the axe made her sick. Someone's whole life was just wiped away in a second. She knew that no one would miss her, but she wished someone would. An imperial guardsman called to her.
"You, the Bosmer, you next."
Wulf swallowed hard. She wouldn't be able to do that in a few moments. Her final steps towards the block felt heavy and dull. She prayed that the blade of the axe was sharp enough for one single swoop. Bending down to the block, she looked into the eyes of the head in the basket beneath hers. What had they seen? What bitter winters, what sweet summer romances? Was there a woman weeping somewhere, a mother, a sister or a lover, for that man? She would never know. But there were a lot of things that Wulf would never know. Her head spun with thoughts and regrets as a dead man's blood touched her bare neck. The headsman lifted his axe. Wulf whispered to herself, a tear slipping from her closed eyes.
"Sovngarde awaits."
They never saw it coming. A black monstrosity, with burning red eyes. Wings that could whip up a wind so foul it would blow away all but the bare rocks, with claws sharper than the best blades in all of Tamriel.
A dragon.
Wulf blinked a few times as waves of sound hit her. Hands still bound, she stumbled towards the towers of the keep, losing her balance as she dodged flaming rocks falling from the sky. What was happening? She saw the creature but she didn't believe it. Surely it must be some sort of illusion magic, perhaps some Stormcloak finally decided to use some? The use of a creature like that would turn the tide of the war, the Empire would be out. She slammed her body into the door of a tower and fell to the gritty stone floor, unable to keep her balance. Ralof, the young Nord looked to her.
"Gods, are you alright? Good thing you got out of there."
He grabbed Wulf's arm and pulled her up. Ulfric Stormcloak had also escaped. His gag was removed and he was steadily pacing back and forth. His voice boomed slightly as he began to speak
"The legends are true. The dragons exist. Ralof, do you think this was the Empire's doing?"
Ralof shook his head.
"If anything, my Jarl, I think they will assume this was on our heads."
Ulfric's eyes narrowed.
"In any case, we must get out of here and quickly. That dragon is nothing but trouble. We must go. You, Elf, help Ralof here find a safe way out of the keep."
Wulf stuck with Ralof as they explored the tower.
"So, Elf, what is your name?"
Wulf cleared her throat.
"Wulf. Wulf Weard."
Ralof paused and turned to look at her, eyes filled with curiosity.
"That's an interesting name for a Bosmer. Wolf Guardian, eh? That's what your name means."
Wulf nodded. They continued walking.
"So how did you come by that name, then?"
Wulf knew that Ralof was likely to ask more questions, but in this situation she was less than willing to embark on the story surrounding her name.
"It's a long story, I think we'd be dragon food before I could finish telling you." She smiled, trying to ward Ralof off.
"I think you're right, my friend." He smiled in return.
Ralof disappeared around a corner, and Wulf let her smile drop. This trip to Skyrim was supposed to be simple. Get in, find the information she needed, get out.
"Wulf, I think I've found a way out to the roof! We can scout from there." Ralof sounded like an excited puppy.
She hurried around the corner to find him already partway up the stairs.
"Here, we can go this way-"
Ralof was cut off by thundering words followed huge blast of fire bursting through the tower wall just before him. The dragon glared at Ralof and Wulf before its attention was grabbed by the soldiers attacking him down below. A shudder ran through Wulf's body as the dragon seemed to utter some words
"Rek LosFahliil."
Wulf watched the dragon fly over to the soldiers shooting at him. Ralof took the chance and grabbed her arm, moving her back to the opposite wall to the dragon-made hole.
"When I say go, run and then jump." Ralof's voice interrupted her thoughts. She nodded.
"Okay."
Ralof nodded in return and linked his arm through hers.
"Jump!"
They landed on a partially destroyed house, falling through the ceiling as it collapsed beneath them. Ralof caught Wulf just as she was going to tumble down to the first floor.
"Aye, maybe that could have gone better."
The grazes on Wulf's legs agreed.
Ralof's eyes widened as he looked back at the tower. An angry Ulfric Stormcloak stood staring out of the hole they had jumped from. Ralof helped Wulf upright and quickly unbound her wrists. He looked Wulf in the eyes.
"Go, reach the courtyard. I'll meet you there."
Ralof turned away and started helping Ulfric down into the ruined house.
"I'm sorry, my Jarl, but her hands were still bound. I had to."
The poison in Ulfric's voice as he chastised Ralof faded to the back of Wulf's mind as she jumped down to the first level of the house, able to land properly this time. Peering out of the shattered entryway, she worked her way around to the back of a stone-walled house. Helgen was a mess. Barely any buildings were still whole. She jumped as the roaring of wings passed over her, and made haste to hide out of sight of the dragon up against a wall. She shut her eyes as its claws scraped the stones just above her. She could feel its body emanating heat, and a sensation of something else she couldn't quite grasp. Her body froze as she felt a claw brush her shoulder. Wulf held her breath, and slowly looked up. Blood red eyes gleamed from deeply shadowed sockets, fangs glinting in the light of the burning houses. The dragon was looking at her. Its jaw moved and she flinched, thinking it was going to swallow her completely. Instead, it spoke.
"Your time will come. For today, I will let you live."
Wulf collapsed after it lifted itself from the wall behind her and flew away. Her time would come? What did the dragon mean? Why in Shor's name would a dragon even talk to her, for Sovngarde's sake? She shook her head and tried to stand. No good would come on depending on the gods, or taking their names in vain. She had questions to answer, and the dragon only made her ask more. Despite her legs wobbling, she started into a run towards what she thought Ralof meant as the courtyard. An empty space, devoid of protection from every angle. Ralof and the young Imperial stood near the centre in a rather one-sided argument. Ralof's voiced ricocheted across the courtyard.
"Hadvar, you don't need to do this."
Hadvar, who Wulf had picked up was the young Imperial, spoke calmly despite Ralof's anger.
"Ralof, you know my father was a legionnaire. This is what I want to do. I believe in the Empire."
Hadvar turned to Wulf as she got closer to the pair.
"You, Elf. Wulf, was it?"
Wulf nodded.
"Come with me, you'll be safer."
Ralof took Wulf's arm and almost glared at her.
"Don't you dare go with him. He's a damned traitor to his homeland and you deserve better." Hadvar looked shocked at Ralof's words, his voice trembled on the verge of anger as he grabbed Wulf's other arm.
"No, please, come with me. The Stormcloaks don't want freedom, they want to rid Skyrim of everyone but the Nords. Please, come with me."
Wulf looked from Ralof to Hadvar, who were glaring at each other. She flicked her arms out of their grip and pulled them both hastily to the nearest keep.
Wulf sat them down at the rather convenient table that was before her as she entered the keep and briefly bound their wrists.
"Now. You two. We're all going to die if you don't reconcile yourselves for five minutes and work together.
Ralof glared at Wulf. She was taken aback by his spite despite his kindness before, but she stared right back into his eyes witheringly.
"I'm only going to untie if you're ready to work together."
Hadvar sighed.
"Look, Ralof, I'll try-"
"Fine. Let us free, Wulf."
Ralof's near-icy voice would have frozen the warmest of hearths. Wulf shuddered a little as she cut their bindings.
"Now, where do we go from here. Do you have any ideas, Hadvar?"
Hadvar nodded.
"I think we need to go underground. That dragon will be looking for any survivors"
Wulf nodded in agreement.
"What do you think, Ralof?"
Ralof stood turned away with his arms crossed with a slight pout on his face. He muttered something under his breath. Wulf cleared her throat.
"Come again, Ralof?"
Ralof turned to face her and Hadvar. His voice dripped with sarcasm.
"I think it would be a fine idea, Wulf Weard."
Wulf raised an eyebrow.
"Do you have any better ideas, 'Ralof of Riverwood'?"
Ralof pouted.
"No."
The two of them bickered as they made their way through the keep. Wulf kept an eye on them but knew they would likely not kill each other. Well, hopefully. She salvaged some armour from a fallen Imperial soldier and Ralof looked at her scathingly.
"So, you're on their side?"
Wulf rolled her eyes.
"Do you see where I'm getting this bloody armour from? The man is dead, I'm in rags and will probably get killed if I don't put something better on to protect myself. I'm not joining either side of the war yet."
Hadvar looked at her hopefully.
"Yet?"
Wulf sighed and pulled on the leather helm.
"I might join up, I might not. Depends on how much the war gets in my way."
Hadvar nodded solemnly and Ralof watched him, slight sadness misting over in his eyes. His mouth moved, but she heard nothing come from it.
Hadvar noticed Wulf looking at Ralof.
"Did you say something?"
Ralof shook his head. He cleared his throat.
"No, just thinking to myself."
Hadvar shook his head and went further into the keep. There was a path moving underground, and it seemed like the best way to get away from the dragon. Ralof stopped Wulf just as she began to follow Hadvar down the slope.
"Wulf, to tell the truth, I don't want to fight him."
Wulf looked him in the eyes and smiled sadly.
"I know."
Hadvar called from down the passage, telling Wulf and Ralof to get a move on. Wulf put a hand on Ralof's shoulder and gestured for him to go ahead. He jogged down the slope, trying to make up for his slight emotional outburst to an almost complete stranger.
Hadvar was waiting next to a lever, putting his finger to his lips as Wulf and Ralof approached. They crouched and snuck closer, hearing voices on the other side. There was a drawbridge up against the opening into the next room. Wulf crept closer and peered through the slats of the wooden bridge. Three Stormcloaks were trying to figure out how to progress through the tunnels. She turned to Hadvar and gestured to him to release the bridge. It came down with a large thump, alerting the Stormcloak soldiers of their position. Hadvar jumped up and went running in with his sword, stabbing a soldier through the gut. Another jumped on his back as he pulled his sword from the soldier falling to the ground before him. Wulf almost jumped out, but realised she had no weapon. No sword, no bow... She had some spells but they were weak and wouldn't defeat the Stormcloak that was almost strangling Hadvar. Beside her there was a mighty cry and Ralof leapt forward, his greatsword waving before him. He ran up to Hadvar and with a mighty downwards swing of his sword, sliced off the arms of the Stormcloak before him. Hadvar looked at him in astonishment. The still-living Stormcloak ran at Ralof, screaming.
"YOU TRAITOR!"
Hadvar ran his sword through the Stormcloak before they could get behind him to Ralof. Blood spattered all over Ralof and Hadvar's uniforms. Ralof stood in silence over his dead comrades. Wulf clambered out from the passage and stood up, surveying the damage. Ralof's face was completely blank, Hadvar stood next to him, looking at the now armless and pierced Stormcloaks. She walked by them, allowing them a moment to take in what had just happened. She waited in the next passageway, listening for their footsteps. Sometimes the bonds of friendship extended deeper than that of comradeship, Wulf knew that well. She'd left her only friend in Cyrodiil, but that didn't matter now. She needed to get out of this cave. Slow shuffled footsteps, along with quicker more brisk ones made Wulf's ears prick up. She let them take their time. As they rounded the corner, Wulf noticed Hadvar's hand gripping Ralof's wrist. Ralof was consumed by silent tears. She looked to Hadvar, whose brow was crumpled. He spoke softly.
"Wulf, let's go."
She nodded.
They walked down the passage in silence. Ralof could be heard sniffing occasionally. Wulf knew that he was questioning himself, one quick glance at his face told her that instantly. The wall ahead of them was blocked off by boulders, but Wulf could see some sunlight coming out of a small crack near the top. She clambered up and peered through. An imperial road ran nearby, cobblestones nailed into Skyrim's frozen dirt roads. A loud sob came from Ralof. Wulf looked back, thinking he had hurt himself, or that Hadvar had done something unthinkable, but Hadvar was holding him. He stroked his head and whispered to him. Wulf couldn't make out what he was saying, but from the way he looked, she knew there was a lot more to their relationship than she had already discovered. She pulled at the rocks before her, smaller than the boulders beneath her, and cleared a small path out into the sunlight.
The bright light burned her eyes after the journey through the cave. Ralof and Hadvar stood apart from one another, leaving their tender moment behind them. She sighed. Nords were always difficult around their emotions. It was best not to interfere, since she knew they'd both probably become defensive if she told them what she thought. They walked towards the road, looking for signs. Ralof spoke up, his voice slightly hoarse from the crying.
"Riverwood is near here, we should go ho- I mean we should go there."
He looked to Hadvar, who simply nodded. Wulf smiled.
"Alright, guess we're off to Riverwood then!"
