A Delayed Burial

Chapter One.

This chapter contains Graphic material not suitable for anyone under the age of 17. Contains Adult Language and Sexual Situations. Viewer discretion is advised. You have been warned.

I do not own Skyrim, or any of the characters except my own OC Dragonborn.

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7th Sun's Dawn 4E 201

"Gods dammit!" I cursed hopping around on one leg, holding my bare left foot in both my hands. Great! It was bleeding… I stepped on yet another sharp stone.

I discarded my boots on the road a while back, in a fit of rage after finally wearing the soles of my leather boots into ribbons, and was now left barefoot I'm the semi-freezing weather.

Why in Talos' Name didn't I buy new boots? I knew I needed them, and yet I had yet to buy any.

Just great… now I would have to walk the rest of the way to Whiterun with a nasty gash in my foot.

Gods help me…

I limped along the dirt path, swearing under my breath, and wearing nothing but my torn green dress. No boots, no gloves, no jacket… I shivered under the bitter barrage of Skyrim's cold weather.

Gods damn those bandits. They ambushed me on my way back to my house in Whiterun, just northeast of the city. They stole my mare Rain, my supplies, potions and food. They left me with little more than my boots and Daedric dagger which I had conveniently strapped to my thigh, hidden from immediate view.

This was just lovely. What would Vorstag have to say about all this? Knowing my husband, it would be something reassuring and tender.

At least they left my wedding band alone.

I couldn't wait to be home. I would have my husband buy me a new horse, new boots and some more supplies. But most of all I wanted to be by the fire and feel Vorstag's big, strong arms around me. I needed to stuff my belly full and then have him fuck me so hard I would sleep soundly for the next two days.

I swore again, narrowly missing a long rusted nail in the road. This was just not my day. What else could possibly go wrong?

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My name is Saphira, and this is my story.

I am twenty two years old, and I am a High Elf. Yes, yes, I know. An Elf that swears by Talos? Let's just say I sided more with the Nords than the Aldmeri Dominion in this whole Civil War business.

I had lived in Skyrim all my life, born here actually, so I considered myself a Nord. I was married to a Nord man, my husband, Vorstag. I worshipped all the Nord gods and everything. The only thing that separated me from actually being a Nord was who gave birth to me. I had long, bright auburn hair, a tiny waist and slim figure. But I gave credit for being skinny to growing up in an orphanage.

Growing up in shared living environment with little food trained my body to not need as much nourishment. I rarely felt hungry. And I was actually quite short for an Elf. It was something that frequently made me the butt of many jokes. But being petite has its perks; I could sneak in and out of wherever I was undetected, and I didn't have to buy as much leather to create my armor.

I grew up in Riften. An orphan after my parents were slaughtered when I was only three. They crossed into Skyrim to live with the Thalmor and Aldmeri Dominion while my mother was still pregnant with me. It was a personal invitation from Elynwyn herself. I was born in Dragon Bridge, right down the road from Solitude, not even two months after they arrived.

One night my parent's carriage was ambushed by the Stormcloaks. They unknowingly rode into a trap the rebels set for the Thalmor and things took a very dark turn.

They slaughtered my parents and their company. I was thrown from the back of the cart when the horses reared.

When I fell from the cart I suffered an injury to the left side of my face including my eye. A stray shard of wood embedded itself into my eyeball, gouging it and leaving a nasty scar across the eye socket and my face.

I was totally blind in my left eye. The injury left the entire eyeball a milky white color. The iris of my remaining eye was green with flecks of blue and gold around the pupil.

Thankfully my abilities as Dragonborn made "seeing" easier for me.

If things got especially dangerous during battle, I could use Aura Whisper and sense my enemy's movements before they even made them. So who was really handicapped?

I made it back to the Embassy, alone, effectively escaping what very well could have been my death.

When the Thalmor Embassy and Aldmeri leaders decided to send me to the Orphanage in Riften, I vowed to take the Nords side from then on.

How could they have abandoned one of their own so easily? Did I mean so little to them?

As I grew older, I started to understand that the Thalmor had no business being in Skyrim, barging in and outlawing the worship of one of the Nord's Gods: Talos.

Who did they think they were? You couldn't just invade another country and start telling them that the way they lived their lives was wrong, and that they would be punished for it because they wouldn't conform to the Thalmor way of life.

It was bullshit really.

After I was sixteen, I left the Orphanage and was coerced into joining the Thieves Guild by a man named Brynjolf. Brynjolf had been my best friend, mentor and first lover. He taught me everything I needed to know about surviving on my own.

I could pick locks easier than you could unlock your own door with a key. I could walk into a shop and walk out with everything of any value and not be caught. I could hide in the shadows, crouched down for hours without being noticed by even the sharpest of eyes.

I made a name for myself in Riften and I was not to be messed with. I could sneak up behind you and slit your throat without a moment's hesitation and you wouldn't have even known that I had been in your house for the past two days. Although that's not how the Guild did business, but I could still do it.

I met Vorstag in Markarth when I was almost nineteen. I left the Thieves Guild by then, left Brynjolf alone at the throat of the world after I was named Dragonborn. I was looking for some dwarven metal to craft myself a new bow, and I figured the museum would be a great place to start.

After getting all the materials I needed I stayed the night at the Silver-Blood Inn. I needed the new bow and some more arrows to continue my pursuit of Alduin into Sovengarde. I couldn't figure out how that damned Dragon got there.

When I visited the bar for a drink before bed I met Vorstag. He was sitting at a table by himself next to the fire. I was feeling frisky and needed a release, and boy, was he damned good looking. So I sat down at his table and invited him back to my room. When I awoke the next morning, he pledged his sword to me, and we had been together ever since. We married the 6th of Hearth Fire 4E 198, my Name Day.

We had been married almost three years, now. And I never thought that anybody but Vorstag would be the one for me.

I was about to be very, very wrong.

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Okay that's all for the first chapter. I hope I have portrayed Saphira's background well enough. I know what I want to say but I have trouble getting it down. If you enjoyed this please review so I know what I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong