~1~ (Sovngarde)
She first came to staring down at the wooden boards of the carriage she was in. She grunted when she noticed her hands were tied behind her back. To think the coward Imperials had captured her…her! She would slaughter the man who dared to strike her from behind when she found out who it was.
"Finally awake now friend?"
Her eyes drifted up at the voice and was met with what she knew was a Stormcloak—to live in Skyrim all your life and not know what they looked like was plain foolish. She stared him down before deciding the trees around them were more interesting. Her angered simmered beneath the surface when she noticed the rags she was in. So the Imperials had stolen all her armor and weapons and dressed her in rags? They would pay.
"You were trying to cross the border right? Walked right into that ambush, same as that thief over there."
Her eyes were drawn back to the Stormcloak at that. In a way, she had walked into the ambush, but that's not to say she didn't welcome it. Ever since her village had been burned to the ground and she left to fend for herself in the wilderness, her blood had burned with a thirst for vengeance. Over time it had morphed into bloodlust that caused her to become the killing machine she was today. She had lost count of the number of souls that followed bitterly at her heals.
"I admit, watching you fight was something else, the Stromcloaks would have gladly welcomed you within our ranks."
"Damn the Stormcloaks!" Her eyes were drawn to the dirty and ragged man who was sitting not far from her. "If it wasn't for you, I would have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell by now!" She scoffed at him. So that's what he was, a rat: dirty things that scurried about in the shadows and had no sense of honor. Let him die for all she cared.
"You there, you and me, we shouldn't be here! It's these Stormcloaks the empire wants, not us!"
She sent a glare at him; he would get no compassion from her.
"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."
"Shut up back there!"
She leant back on the weak wood of the cart and glanced at the man who sat not a foot from her. He had a hard sharp face, his eyes set in a hard frown. For some reason the Imperials had even gone so far as to bind his mouth.
The thief sent a wary look at him. "What's wrong with him?"
"Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stromcloak, the true High King."
Ah, so that was why. Here was the famous man who killed the young King by shouting at him; the leader of the rebellion; of the Stormcloaks.
"But if they've captured you…by the gods, where are they taking us?"
"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits."
She sobered then. Sovngarde. She had not thought she would go to it so soon. Maybe in a few more years, a decade maybe, but she could say with honesty that she was not ready. A deep resentment grew within her…damn the Imperials.
A/N: This is me posting a Drabblefic so I can just have fun with something. LOL.