Disclaimer: I don't own Skyrim, but I do own my lovely OC's, and this doughnut! X)
Embers in the Fire
Chapter I: End of the Line
"Master! Master, where are you?" the red headed woman chirped. Her long bangs covered her right eye, but her left eye searched the trees like a hawk. The ebony armor that embraced her form was not ideal for this kind of muddy terrain in the slightest. The mist was thick, impeding vision beyond a few yards. She groaned before sitting on a mossy fallen tree, her silver greatsword and her sliver bow clattering against the wood. "Where could he have run off to now?" She closed her eyes and with an irritated sigh, she jumped back on her feet. But she noticed something out the corner of her sight. She knelt down to investigate the signs of disturbed earth. Footprints littered the ground in a frenzy, indications of a struggle. "(Sigh) What have you gotten yourself into now?"
The clackles and creaks of the carriage woke him from his 'induced' slumber. He could still feel all his bruises, but his head was the worst. The cold winds didn't help either, as they barraged his thin frame. He slowly opened his bright brown eyes, letting in the white landscape. His brown hair felt a little muddy, after a hit to the head from behind landing him face down in the dirt. Accompanying him were three Nords, all sitting quietly. He counted over a dozen soldiers guarding the two carriages with bound prisoners. 'With this many guards… Someone here must be quite valuable…'
"Hey, you…" He looked up at the blonde Nord, "You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there." They both turned to the lout. "Damn you Stormcloaks, Skyrim was fine until you came along, Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, could have stolen that horse and been half way to Hammerfell" he spat. The thief turned to the brunet boy, "You there, you and me, we shouldn't be here, it's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." 'Hmmm, so these are the rebels I've heard about…'
"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief" the blonde rebel retorted. "Shut up back there" one of the soldiers griped. The thief looked to the third Nord, whose mouth was gagged, "What's wrong with him, huh?" "Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king!" the rebel barked. "Ulfric? The jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion…"-'Bingo…'-"…but if they've captured you…oh gods! Where are they taking us?" the thief squealed. "I don't know where we're going, but Sovengarde awaits…" the rebel grumbled. "No…this can't be happening, this isn't happening!"
"Hey, what village are you from horse thief?" the rebel asked. "Why do you care?" "A Nord's last thoughts, should be of home…" "Rorikstead. I'm… I'm from Rorikstead." A soldier's voice could be heard up on the walkway, "General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!" They turned to see a village, with tall stone walls, a few dreary houses and two towers. "Good, let's get this over with" the General commanded. They passed under the walkway, and into the town. "Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh… Divines, please help me!" the thief cried.
The General rode his horse over to the side, greeting three Altmer. "Look at him, General Tullius, the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this." The rebel's words dripped with venom, until he took a more soft tone. "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 sighed, "Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe…"
As they rode through town, multitudes of onlookers stared upon them. "Who are they daddy? Where are they going?" a boy asked. "You need to go inside little cub" his father looked to him. "Why? I want to watch the soldiers." "Inside the house. Now" his father's voice full of concern. "(Sigh) Yes papa…" the boy grumbled. An Imperial captain barked at her subordinates, "Get these prisoners out of the carts, move it!" "Why are we stopping?" the thief whined. The rebel Nord looked him dead in the eye, "Why do you think? End of the line…"
