Dragonborn Lost
A Skyrim Fanfiction
THE PROPHECY OF THE DRAGONBORN
When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world
When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped
When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles
When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls
When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding
The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.
The Dragonborn was fallen. Skyrim is doomed.
Chapter One-Ulfric
The Ignorance of the Nords
Ulfric could only remember the events of Helgen in a haze. He didn't want to understand what had transpired. But he had to. Skryim's fate depended on it.
He remembered the Imperial ambush. (Only Talos knew how the Empire found them in the first place.) He knew he was captured and then stuffed in a rickety wagon with three others…How Ulfric hated wagon rides. The infernal rocking of the carriage was enough to make one mad.
They rode for hours and hours in that beat-up cart, feeling every bump and crack in the road as the wagon rocked unsteadily from side to side. Just when Ulfric thought the ride would never come to an end, (due to that horse thief and Ralof's constant bickering), they arrived in Helgen.
The quiet young woman that sat on the other side of the wagon was a mystery to him. She had seemed like she didn't belong there, like she didn't deserve the fate she had suffered at the hands of the executioner. Nevertheless, she had been brutally killed by the Imperials who didn't even have her name on the execution list.
It was all a blur after she had been murdered. He remembers stepping up to the block, and the executioner raising his axe. Then Ulfric knew the dragon came and breathed fire upon the town. There was no doubt that if the dragon hadn't come, Ulfric would be dead. That wretched thing that had saved him had killed so many other innocents. Ulfric was the only survivor as far as he knew.
The Stormcloak Leader subsequently stole an Imperial horse and rode off as fast as the horse could go. He rode halfway across Skyrim with no stops or breaks and nearly killed the horse in the process. He arrived at Windhelm, left the horse to the care of the stable-man outside the gates, and then ran into the Palace of the Kings to hear cries of celebration of seeing him alive. But he tuned them out. He rushed up to his quarters and grabbed a piece of parchment and started writing to his rival, Jarl Balgruuf, with a fury. Ulfric still almost hated the man, but he wouldn't let the same thing happen to Whiterun as what happened to Helgen.
The Jarl of Windhelm looked at the parchment where he had scribbled an explanation of the events of Helgen and sighed. This couldn't be happening. It was impossible…
Jarl Balgruuf received the letter from Ulfric a day later, and at first thought it a joke. He laughed at the hastily and poorly written thing and brought in others to laugh at Ulfric's pathetic jest.
It was two days later that Balgruuf finally realized the letter to be true. By then though, it was too late. The same dragon that demolished Helgen had attacked Whiterun and burned down the entire city in less than an hour. It seemed that Skyrim was truly doomed.
Hey, guys! I really hoped you enjoyed my fanfic! I worked hard on it, and I would appreciate reviews! I've posted the first three chapters and will post each new chapter on every following Sunday. ;) Be sure to favorite/follow if you liked it!
