Disclaimer: I own nothing except for Cania, and have no possible hope of ever even attempting to compete with Bethesda Softworks for any sort of ownership rights. How thrilling for me, huh? First fanfic ever; let's keep our fingers crossed, eh?

CHAPTER 1: Rude Awakenings

Darkness loomed over the Imperial Prison like an eternal shroud, even as the few smoldering torches that the guards had been kind enough to hang within struggled to lift its iron grasp. However, the prisoners all knew that those torches were no kindness-- compassion was not exactly a thing found in abundance in the Imperial Prison-- they merely served to aid the Imperial jailors as they wandered through the dank and dirty corridors in order to keep tabs on the few prisoners kept locked away within. Now, the Prison largely went unused-- times were better, and most lawbreakers could afford to simply pay their fines and move on with their lives... Or were strong enough to resist arrest and live on the lam for however long they needed to. However, two wretched figures inhabited nearby cells, one of them a Dark Elf who seemed rather bored with his usual squalor, and the other an Imperial female collapsed on the dingy floor of her cell, entirely unconscious.

It had been a few days since they had brought her in, the Dunmer mused idly-- he wondered if she was simply going to rot away in that comatose state in his own personal hell. He hoped not. That would ruin all of his fun. As he continued mulling over his thoughts whilst readjusting himself on the cold stone floor, his sensitive ears detected a slight moan and the rustling of clothes. It would seem that the new girl was waking up. He grinned from ear to ear, his red eyes nearly glowing with their own wretched light.

The girl slowly lifted herself off the floor, and promptly retched due to the dizziness she felt at the sudden altitude change. Her usually radiant, reddish-blond hair was now greasy and clung to her face, and the sight of it seemed to confuse her for a moment until she realized that it was, indeed, hers. Once her stomach came back to her, her hazel-green eyes slowly made a circuit around the disgusting little cell that she found herself in-- one that she never remembered coming to in the first place. Where the hell am I? She wondered, slowly shifting into a sitting position in order to get a better view of the place.

It was damp, cold, and filthy-- she noticed, with horror, what seemed to be the remains of a gnawed human skeleton in one corner. An involuntary shudder racked her body, and she raised her eyes miserably to the tiny, barred window above her. It was still daylight, but it did nothing to lift that horrible, suffocating darkness that threatened to overwhelm her. Suddenly, she realized that she was not alone.

"Well, well, well... if it isn't an Imperial in an Imperial prison! Oh, the harsh irony of it all... I guess they don't play favorites, hm," the cruel, obviously Elven voice mocked. She strained her eyes through the darkness to try and catch a glimpse of the man speaking to her, and started when she saw a pair of red eyes staring back at her. She began to stand, then, wanting to learn from the Dunmer where exactly she was trapped... and why. However, when he saw her move, his eyes lit up with a sadistic glee. "It moves! Ha, your own kinsman think you are a piece of trash... how sad. But don't you worry, Imperial... I'll bet you receive some "special" treatment before the end!"

Her eyes sparked with confusion. The end? Of what? Was she being released today? Or... The Dark Elf could see the gears running in her little blond head-- must have been the only Imperial in the world who was blond. And acted like it, too. He rolled his eyes.

"You're going to die in here, Imperial!"

"What?" She croaked, her dry throat immediately responding by sending a harsh wave of anguish through her, causing her to cough rather violently for a moment.

"That's right! You're going to die in this little hell hole! Oh, don't look so scandalized," he chided, leaning against the wall with a vicious smirk plastered on his gaunt, grimy blue face. "Criminal scum like you are an embarrassment! Give the Empire a bad name, you see-- it would be much better if you just... disappeared," he explained with a wave of his hand and a slight widening of his almond-shaped eyes. The way he moved made him seem like a cheap party magician and, at this, he chuckled in a manic, high pitched tone as he watched her back off a few steps with a look of harsh defiance in her eyes. His taunting had caused something to snap within her, and she found herself struggling to restrain herself from doing something she'd regret. Unfortunately, her resolve to ignore him didn't last long as he made a rather snide remark about her mother and about how she was soon to meet her death in a rather gruesome and colorfully explained manner.

"Not before you do, you bastard," she hissed, her stance suddenly taking on the rigid form of a battle-hardened warrior rather than that of a frightened young girl who could be no more than twenty-two years old. His eyes lit up with surprise, and, for a moment, fear, as she reached for a pewter fork that they had left on a small rotting table in her cell. Suddenly, both of them froze as the sound of clanking armor and metallic footsteps reached their ears. The Dunmer laughed with a maniacal, demented sort of joy and, she thought, relief.

"Oh, look! The guards are coming! For you!" He continued to laugh as his skulked back into the darkness of his little corner, though she could still see those horrible red eyes staring back at her with a morbid interest. She scurried to put the fork back where she had found it, but was stopped in her tracks as she made out the voices coming near her.

"Baurus! Lock that door behind us!" A female voice, though not at all feminine... perhaps she was the commander of the guards?

"Yes, sir," she heard a deep, rich male voice reply obediently. Redguard, she thought.

"My sons... They're dead, aren't they?" An older voice rang out through the corridors, and she craned her head to try and see who it was that was talking. He seemed so despairing... even from the few words she had heard the old man say, she knew that he had lost all hope.

"We don't know that, sire-- the messenger only said they were attacked," the grating female voice reassured with its crisp, irritating accent.

"No, they're dead. I know it."

"My job right now is to get you to safety."

Suddenly, they all came into view; the female was in the lead, dressed in full battle gear, followed by two similarly-dressed male Redguards. And behind them, in perhaps the most gorgeous robes she had ever seen, was the old man. He looks familiar... I wonder if I've met him before? She wondered, struggling to see his eyes in the darkness. She was jerked out of her reverie when the female voice shouted, "What is this prisoner doing here! This cell is supposed to be off-limits!" She then whipped around to face one of the men furiously, blue eyes flashing dangerously, daring him to offer some sort of excuse. And offer he did.

"Usual mix-up with the Watch, I--"

"Never mind; get that gate open," she snapped, whirling around once more and pointing directly at the young prisoner. "You! Stand back, prisoner! We won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way," she growled.

"You, prisoner-- stand aside! Move it! Over by the window," the slightly kinder-looking of the two men instructed, keeping a wary eye on her. She winced at the command, desperately wanting to ignore them, but finally deciding against that course for now. With her hands raised and fork dropped, she proceeded to scoot the remaining foot that separated her from the wall containing the near-useless window. The Redguard nodded. "Stay out of the way, and you won't get hurt."

Promptly after that, he produced a key from somewhere on his person and unlocked the offending cell door. She heard the other Redguard returning from somewhere and making the comment that no one had attempted to pursue them. Just what, exactly, is going on here? These aren't prison guards, that much is for damn sure... she pondered, her eyes scanning each person as they entered the room and judging their potential threat to her person. She made a move to approach the old man once he entered the tiny cage, but was soon stopped by the first man. "Stay put prisoner," he commanded, gently pushing her back into her former position. She sighed, frustrated.

"You...? I've seen you," she heard the old man proclaim in the background. Well, of course you've seen them, old timer. They've probably been with you awhile. She thought, rolling her eyes. However, she lifted her head slightly and saw him standing right before her. "Let me see your face," he bade her, gently reaching out to lift her chin ever so slightly. She recoiled at the touch, doing her best to resist the urge to slap him. He gave her a tired, patient smile in return. "You are the one from my dreams," he murmured, eyes suddenly filling with what she suspected may have been awe. "Then the stars were right, and this is the day. Gods give me strength," he finished, closing his grey-blue eyes and tilting his head back slightly toward the heavens. She simply blinked at him. I was in his dreams? That's... a bit creepy, I must admit. She shook it off with a bit of effort, curiosity taking over.

"What, pray tell, is going on here, exactly?" She interrogated, arching one eyebrow imperiously as she sized up the man before her. All the guards seemed to tense with a sudden desire to harm her physically, but she ignored them. The old man offered her yet another patient, grandfatherly sort of smile.

"Assassins have attacked my sons, and I'm next," he stated almost cheerfully. She blinked, dumbfounded. "My Blades are leading me out of the city along a secret escape route. By chance, that entrance to that escape route happens to lead through your cell," he calmly explained, his kindly eyes resting on hers with a casual ease that almost unnerved her. She folded her deceptively thin arms across her chest and furrowed her aquiline brow slightly in thought. Blades... Blades... I've heard of that before... aren't they...? Her brain suddenly froze in shock. She took a step back and stared at the man in front of her wild-eyed.

"Who are you?" She blurted, fearing the worst. The old man chuckled and shook his head.

"I have that effect on many people, it would seem. I assume that you guessed correctly; I am your Emperor, Uriel Septim--" at this, she gasped, feeling almost as if she would faint, "and by the grace of the Gods, I have been chosen to serve Tamriel as her ruler. You are a citizen of Tamriel, even though you are currently housed in one of her less attractive prisons, and you, too, will serve her in your own way." With a mixture of awe and that horrible feeling of an oncoming illness, she willed her body to sweep down low in a bow whilst attempting to prevent herself from collapsing right there on the spot. She had just offended the Emperor. No wonder he'd looked familiar, she chided. If her situation wasn't bad now, it sure as hell was going to be once he passed his sentence on her rudeness. However, rather than that horrible booming voice that she had always imagined coming from an emperor, she heard soft laughter and the same kind, gentle tone that he'd been using.

"Now, now, no need for that, young one," he chuckled, bidding her to resume her normal manner.

"F-forgive me, your highness. Um, well, while you're here... Could you possibly tell me what exactly I'm doing locked away in this jail cell?" She questioned once her brain stopped spinning. Once more, Emperor Uriel Septim offered her his kindly smile.

"Perhaps the Gods have placed you here so that we may meet," he half-jested quietly, and then resumed his serious tone. "As for what you have done, it does not matter. That is not what you will be remembered for." The comment about the Gods had made her bristle-- she had never really been much of a believer, to tell the truth. The Gods had never seemed interested in her before, and she'd be damned before she'd let them run her life now.

"I go my own way," she declared, struggling to keep her voice cool and even. The Emperor seemed to notice her discomfort, and gently waved a hand to prevent his Blades from exacting punishment for disrespecting the Emperor with such harsh words.

"As do we all," he said quietly, his soft eyes locked onto hers. "But what path can be avoided whose end is fixed by the almighty Gods?" He asked deliberately, his eyes not leaving hers for a moment. She knew that it was a challenge.

Before anything could get out of control, the female leader of the Blades in company stepped between the two of them. "Please, sire, we must keep moving," she pleaded, bowing ever so slightly to him. He hesitated a moment, and then finally nodded, allowing her to move forward and access the secret door hidden in the walls. With a simple touch on one of the bricks, the wall began to rumble and slowly open with a harsh grate. Well, that would have been nice to have known about for the ten minutes that I was conscious before they arrived, she thought as she watched the door slide open on stone hinges. Finally, with a resounding thud that echoed deep into the bowels of the prison, the door came to a halt. The Blade poked her head through the door and her body soon followed it with the languid grace of a predatory feline. "Better not close this one," she commented idly as she began her progress through the newly-exposed tunnels. "There's no way to open it from the other side."

"Looks like this is your lucky day," the kinder of the two Redguards joked as he passed her on his way into the passage. "Just keep quiet and stay out of our way." With that he was gone, disappeared around the cavernous bend before her. As she peered into the even deeper shadows of the caverns, the other one shoved her harshly back against the wall. She snarled, facing him with carefully constrained contempt.

"Don't even think about it, prisoner. I'm watching you," he growled, pushing his massive frame through the doorway. She grunted in frustration.

"My name is Cania! Not Prisoner," she shouted after him.

"I wasn't aware that prisoners had names," he responded in his gruff baritone.

She marched into the caverns in a slight huff, though she allowed just one moment to bestow one last smug, triumphant smirk upon the bewildered Dark Elf still hopelessly trapped in the cell across from hers before she vanished into the darkness. Things were starting to look up.