Strangers

Prologue

She had the strangest sensation of being rocked. Though the only thing pleasant about it was that she was leaning up against something warm and somewhat fluffy. The hard surface she was seated on was uncomfortable and wasn't doing her bum any favors. With a soft groan, she opened her eyes. The light that greeted her caused her head to ache something awful and she hissed in pain. Attempting to raise her hands to her face, she immediately found that her wrists were bound tightly together with a rough length of rope.

What in the world was this?

Suddenly alert, the young woman jolted upright, eyes going to whatever she had been leaning against. She was not expecting a pair of intense blue-green eyes to be staring back at her. A man was seated next to her, his brows furrowed as he studied her intently. His hair was dirty blonde with braids on either side of his temples that kept most of it from hanging in his face. A length of dirty cloth was bound tight around his face, covering his mouth. It made her wonder why she wasn't gagged as well.

Another unwelcome flash of pain tore through her head, making her flinch and close her eyes as she raised her bound hands to her forehead.

"So, you're finally awake."

The voice was familiar, as were the words spoken but the headache she currently had was preventing her from focusing. So, she looked up at the speaker.

The man was smiling softly at her, his blue eyes looking tired, wisps of blonde hair hanging in them. He wore what looked to be a cuirass with blue clothe wound about it, his short chainmail sleeves showing well-toned arms. Was he a soldier or something?

"You were caught in that Imperial ambush like the rest of us, eh?" he asked simply. Not waiting for her to answer, he looked to the man seated next to him. "And that horse thief as well."

What? An ambush? She looked back and forth between the two men, trying to fight the pain in her head. What was going on? Where was she?

A quick glance around let her know that they were in a cart being pulled along by a sturdy looking draft horse. A man was seated at the head of the cart, his helmeted head facing forward as he let the horse plod along at its own pace. They were on a rough dirt road with trees on either side, and she could just make out mountains through the thick foliage.

"Damn, Stormcloaks," the named thief grumbled, bringing her attention back to him. He was glaring at the man seated next to him. "Skyrim was fine until you showed up. The Empire was nice and lazy. If it wasn't for you I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell by now."

Skyrim? Empire? Hammerfell? The names seemed familiar to her but she couldn't fathom why. Another wave of pain pulsed through her head, and she bit back a groan, going back to holding her head in her hands. She kept her eyes on the two men before her though, curious as to what else they would say.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, eh?" the blue-eyed man said with a halfhearted smile.

The thief huffed and shifted his gaze to her, but his look wasn't very nice. A soft grunt from the man next to her caught his attention and he looked to him.

"What's with him?"

"Hold your tongue, thief!" the blonde man snapped at him. "You're addressing Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King of Skyrim!"

The thief looked shocked at this statement. "Ulfric Stormcloak," he said in disbelief. "The leader of the rebellion? Then that means… Oh, gods. Where are they taking us?"

"I don't know," the blonde man said. "But Sovngarde awaits."

The young woman's head swam and she turned away from the men, staring down at the floor of the cart.

What the hell was going on here? Why did all the things they were saying sound so familiar? Who were these men? More importantly, why was she here with them?

A sudden terror gripped her when she realized she could not recall her name.

Who… who was she?