Hi, everyone! It's been a long, long time since I've published, huh? But I'm glad to be back, and I'm so grateful for everyone who read and supported me over the last few months.

Recently, I've gone through some changes. I was struggling to keep the creativity alive inside me, despite outside pressures in my life. I'm in a new living situation now, and I'm starting to get back in touch with myself.

Even though I'm free to do whatever I want now, basically, I have a lot of adult responsibility now. I have to pay for groceries, clothes, rent, and a lot of the other things that you take for granted when you're a kid. I'm also working for the first time in my life, which is both agonizing and rewarding.

This story has been a long time coming, and I think the fact that I've gotten it down on paper has helped me express myself, and to help me grow into my new shoes, as it were. Hopefully, I'll learn to live successfully on my own, and I'll learn to write again.

That being said, yes, it starts right after Helgen. Original, I know. But even though it starts slow, it gets better and more original down the line. I'm also fairly new to the Skyrim/Elder Scrolls fandom, so please forgive me if I get some of the lore wrong. I did try to do my research.

So, please enjoy my newest work, and what may prove to be my comeback, "Indoctrination."

The rumbling had stopped. I guess I had been so panicked, that I hadn't even noticed how far away from Helgen we'd come. I took a deep breath through my nose, the crisp, dry air filling me. It smelled good. No hint of mud or rust or rotten wood.

"Are you alright?" he asked. He sat on a rock next to a faded signpost, breathing heavily.

"I think so," I answered. "I bet I'm better than you."

"Pff," he replied, waving my comment away. "I'm perfectly fine. Just a few scratches." His blue tunic fluttered in the light breeze. He ran his callused fingers through his dirty-blond hair, ruffling out dirt and dust, and two or three leaves. He scratched his beard, too, trying to get some of the excess grime out with his fingernails. "I can imagine I don't look too pretty, though."

"Don't worry about it," I said.

"I wanted to apologize for getting you mixed up in all of this," he began. "The Imperials shouldn't have been near Helgen. And if the Stormcloaks hadn't been there, you wouldn't have had any trouble. They would've let you go on your way."

"You mean they arrested me just because I'm a Nord?"

"You were in the wrong place at the wrong time to begin with," he said. "The yellow hair probably didn't help, though."

I tugged compulsively at a small braid on my head, running the tip through my fingers. "I don't understand. They had no right to execute any of you without a trial. Especially Ulfric Stormcloak. He's a Jarl, isn't he?"

"The Jarl of Windhelm, yes," he replied. "You must be new around here, kinsman. I don't think I've ever heard of a Stormcloak getting a trial at all. It wouldn't matter if he was a Jarl or not."

"But that's just not fair! I mean, you're all citizens of the Empire, you have rights just like everyone else. If this had happened in Cyrodiil, Tullius would never have gotten away with it! He'd be demoted at the very least, and you'd all get pardons."

"You've been to Cyrodiil, then?"

I sat down gingerly on the rock next to him. "I was born here, but I grew up in the Imperial City."

"Oh, so you're a city girl," he jibed. "That explains it."

"What, it explains that I expect to be treated like a civilized person?"

"No, no. It explains why you thought that the law meant anything up here."

"You know, I'd always thought that the Stormcloaks were crazy and dangerous. You seemed like a real threat. But the way they figure it in Cyrodiil, you're just an extremist group who doesn't speak for the rest of the population."

He stroked his whiskers. "Well, I wouldn't say that. Nobody's arguing that there aren't people who'd rather stay under the Empire, but you'd be surprised at how many of us want to secede. It's just hard to find people who will give up basically everything, with the promise of very little in return. In the way of material compensation, that is."

"So you're losing."

"Not by a long shot!" he exclaimed. "Just because we're short of men doesn't mean we can't hit the Empire where it hurts."

We sat silently for a moment. The sun was starting to slip below the mountains. "Looks like we'd better get going," he said. He got up slowly, grimacing as his knees took his whole weight. "Bad knees," he explained. He consulted the signpost for a moment. "Just making sure. Listen, we're about three hours away from my hometown, Riverwood. If we start now, we can get there before it gets too cold. My sister, Gerdur, can put us up for the night."

"Do you think we'll be followed?" I asked, standing up myself.

"By Tullius? Not a chance. They've got more than enough trouble back there. He'll be sorted for weeks."

I smiled in spite of myself. "Sure, let's go to Riverwood."

"Right. Oh, in case you didn't catch it earlier - and I wouldn't blame you if you weren't listening - my name's Ralof." He extended a grubby hand.

I took it with my own, just as grubby. "Kaja."

More and longer chapters to be posted, one daily until the story is complete. Thank-you.