Smile in the Face of Death

"Hey you." A man nudged, "You're finally awake." She opened her eyes a bit and groaned.

"Where..." She blinked, "Where am I?" She tried rubbing her head, but instead, her hands were bound. "What's going on?" Surprisingly, she was quite calm for one just waking up to find their self tied up in a prisoner's cart.

"You were trying to cross the border, right?" He didn't seem to want to answer her questions. "Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."

She gritted her teeth, and a scar underneath her left eye seemed to glint painfully as if to jog her memory. "Yeah, I remember that part..." She looked over to her right to see the thief he was talking about.

He didn't seem half as pleasant. "Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy." He glared at the man with a mixture of disgust and fear. He was obviously not mixed up in the same things as the other. "If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and be halfway to Hammerfell." Some innocent man he is, the girl thought.

They kept riding through the countryside, snow blowing every which way, freezing the prisoners what with their lack of clothing. The horse thief spoke up again, in an even more rushed tone than before, he was obviously frantic. "You there." He directed it towards the unfortunate girl, "You and me - we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." She looked around fully, finally, to see who else had been evicted and shoved on to their cozy little carriage.

She noticed a couple of other people alongside her, one was gagged and the other looked to be just a normal Wood Elf. "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."

"Shut up back there!" The guard leading the carriage cracked his whip.

They all disregarded his command. "I never caught you names."

The man in bluish armor that had woken her introduced himself first, "Ralof. The name's Ralof."

The thief mumbled after, "Lokir..."

The Wood Elf spoke up once, and only once during the entire ride, "Leith, if you wanted to know." She looked up for a split second to see the woman who questioned and quickly went back to staring at the floor of the cart.

"And yours?" Ralof inquired.

"Relian."

Their introduction was short-lived and interrupted by Lokir, "What's wrong with him, huh?" He was curiously staring over at the gagged man.

Ralof replied quickly, "Watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King." His respect for the Stormcloak leader was evident in his tone. Relian could've sworn his eyes glinted when he looked at Ulfric.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm?" Lokir's voice was laced with fear yet again, "You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they've captured you... Oh gods, where are they taking us?" He panicked, trying to see a way out as he put two and two together.

Ralof knew there wasn't any use covering it up now that everyone on the cart realized what they were in for. "I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." His voice was sullen, as somber as a man's would be on death row. The Wood Elf twitched at the name of the Nordic afterlife, striking more than one chord within her.

Relian stayed calm, speaking little, and focused on the snow swirling around her. "No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening." She closed her eyes as Lokir continued to panic at the sound and thought of death. All that was left was to think of home, the wonderful life she had. Who was she kidding? She wasn't going to die here, not now, at the peak of her time. Something in her bones, a feeling, kept her moving on. It was the reason why she, too, wasn't losing her mind over events to follow.

"Hey," Ralof tried for a bit of comforting words, even if they weren't the most pleasant he could muster, "what village are you from horse thief?"

"Why do you care?"

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

"Rorikstead. I'm... I'm from Rorikstead." Lokir was pained to even state the name of his home village.

Relian's eyes snapped open as she heard an Imperial soldier yell from up ahead, "General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!"

"Good." A gruff voice answered, "Let's get this over with."

You could hear Lokir mumbling and praying, "Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me." They passed under a bridge, entering a small town where General Tullius and quite a few Imperials were waiting.

"Look at him, General Tullius the Military General," Ralof spat bitterly, "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this." They passed along the streets; time seemed to slow down as the cart's wheels brought them closer and closer to imminent death. It seemed like Ralof chose this to be the perfect time to reminisce for some reason. "This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in." He stared at every building as they passed by slowly. "Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

Relian was observing as well. As they rounded a corner, deeper into Helgen, she saw a small boy sitting on the front of a porch, "Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?"

"You need to go inside, little cub."

"Why? I want to watch the soldiers."

Ah, the sweet innocence of a child, Relian smiled sadly.

"Inside the house. Now." With the last command from his father, he went into their house, followed by his mother and father.

They rounded one last corner. "Whoa!" The Imperial soldier leading their cart pulled the horses to a stop.

What looked to be the Captain of a legion directed her men toward the carts, "Get these prisoners out of the carts. Move it!" The Wood Elf, Leith, obviously didn't want to be there, whether or not she was supposed to be was another question entirely, though.

Lokir looked around, partially confused, "Why are we stopping?"

Ralof gave him news that he probably didn't favor at all, "Why do you think? End of the line." His voice was even graver than before, but he still had a lick of courage coating it. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us." Ralof was first to stand, the rest of us followed his example.

"No! Wait! We're not rebels!" Lokir tried begging again. It was hard to tell who he was indicating to, but it obviously wasn't for Ralof or Ulfric.

"Face your death with some courage, thief." Ralof, again, tried silencing him.

Everyone stepped off of the cart, facing a man with a list and one of the Imperial Captains next to him. There had been only two carts destined for Helgen, the others were lined up the same as them. Their group, however, consisted of all Stormcloaks in their blue armor, but there was one odd one out. This happened to be a Khajiit, dressed in pretentious and formal robes.

"You've got to tell them!" Lokir continued, "We weren't with you! This is a mistake!"

All ignored his pleas for being released. The Imperial Captain commanded the prisoners, instead, "Step towards the block when we call your name," she indicated over at the headsman. "One at a time."

"Empire loves their damn lists." Ralof muttered under his breath.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm." The man with the list called and Ulfric walked over to the block.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!" Ralof paid him his last respects.

"Ralof of Riverwood," he continued. "Leith of Falkreath." Relian gave them both a curt nod as they made their way over, following the Jarl. "Lokir of Rorikstead."

Just like that, the thief panicked and stepped forward. "No! I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!" Done with trying to reason, he ran back up the path causing the captain to alert the archers. Only one swiftly rose their bow, aimed the tip right at Lokir's back, and with a tiny twang, his life was cut short.

"Wait. You there. Step forward." He was done with reading off of the list and stared directly at Relian. "Who are you?" He asked as she approached.

"Relian, from Hammerfell." Her chances still seemed slim, but her expression didn't show any signs of being intimidated by the man.

"What're you doing here, Redguard? You a sellsword? A sailor from Stros M'kai?" He turned to the captain. "Captain. What should we do? She's not on the list."

"Forget the list. She goes to the block." She waved him off and walked towards the execution.

"By your orders, Captain." He turned back towards Relian. "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to Hammerfell." He indicated for her to follow the captain which she quickly obeyed. She found herself to be standing in between the tall cat and Leith. The three of them, side by side, looked perfect from the captain's eyes. She was going to wipe the smug smirk off of the Khajiit, break the confident look in the Redguard's eyes, and diminish the Wood Elf's pride all in one execution.

While the captain's sadistic smile didn't change, everyone else's attention did. They were all focused on Tullius and Ulfric now. "Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne." With his gag, all Ulfric could reply with were a series of muffled grunts and so the general continued, "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace." His ending words were drowned out by a deafening roar off in the close mountains.

Everyone gathered around the block mumbled, "What was that?" or, "Gods, could it be?" while the guards stood their ground, ignoring the roar.

The captain continued, turning to a priestess, "Give them their last rites."

She nodded, "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon-" She was cut off by one of the Stormcloaks who stepped up to the block.

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with," he did not like the sound of only eight Divines, it seemed, but this was to be expected from a Stormcloak. Even the Khajiit and Relian twitched when the priestess presented with one short.

"As you wish," she didn't like being interrupted like that and backed up, leaning on a building a few yards away.

The captain wasted no time pushing the man down onto the block, forcing his last sight to be of the headsman cloaked by an intimidating tower. "Come on, I haven't got all morning." He grunted, "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"

With his last words choked out, the headsman lifted the bloody axe, and brought it down in one swift action. His head being severed landed in a basket on the other side of the block. The Imperial who had pushed him down gingerly pushed his body to lie on his side, allowing more to be free to having the privilege of having the same end as him. "Next, the Redguard." she commanded. Her words were overpowered by another roar; it was the same from before, but much closer and much more threatening.

It had started to shake a few of the Imperials, "There it was again."

The captain refused to be disregarded and repeated louder, "I said, next prisoner!"

Relian nodded, stepping forward to accept her fate, but she knew that this wasn't going to be the end for her. She smiled, unhindered by the body she was going to be laying next to. The captain, being as sadistic as she was, forced her down immediately, causing her to stare at the head without a body for a few seconds, hoping that she would be humiliated right before death for losing her hold on the stomach at the scene. Instead, to the captain's dismay, she continued smiling. It was dazzling, making even the headsman falter. Who could have possibly wanted to smile at a time like this? Too somber, too soaked in death.

Another roar, this time it was ear splittingly close, ringing in everyone's ears. The only one that seemed unaffected was the headsman. He raised his axe for another swing, high above his head. He never had the chance to bring it down, however. The ground shook right before he could, and there was only one thing that could've caused that just by landing - a dragon.