Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim.

AN: Hello readers and welcome to a new piece of fanfiction I have recently decided to start writing. This idea comes from a bit of inspiration from Zaric Zhakaron from YouTube who made a video titled, 'What if Skyrim was Good?' I recommend watching it just to get a baseline for this tale, but since it is a piece of fanfiction, I have decided to ad my own twist and turns to it, just to see how I can mash Zaric's ideas and my own into this. Now, this first chapter most likely will be familiar to those who have read 'The Last Dragonborn' by Gothic-Diamond which with the author's permission I have decided to begin my own tale and hopefully, this chapter will differ from that piece. Now onto the story!

Chapter One

Awakening

Darkness, that was all she knew, it was all she remembered. It encompassed all, any sights or sounds there might have been were covered in darkness. There was nothing else, no memory or sense of time.

Am I dead, the thought echoed through the void. I do not think so… but could I remember if I was alive at some point? The darkness had no answer for her.

Confusion raged through her head as thousands of thoughts drifted through her head. The sensation was unfamiliar to her. Briefly, she wondered if she had ever felt like this before and tried to find another instance in which she felt the emotion. Her mind came up blank.

Who am I? the thought flashed into existence a moment later. Since her memory was not there… what exactly was she? Did she have a name? Friends and family? Am I a hero, a law abiding citizen or a villain? The thought of her identity plagued her. The only thing she knew about herself was that she was in the body of a fully grown woman.

As that sense of self passed through her, her sense began to awaken. The sound of metal dancing on metal echoed through her ears and the sound was familiar to her. A thin, reedy voice accompanied the sound:

'I've almost got them off.'

A thought occurred to her. She wanted to know who and what just made that noise and slowly she forced her eyes to open, and frowned as she stared at the grim stone floor. She shut them again and groaned in discomfort as she a sharp pain lanced through the back of her skull and her eyes snapped shut. She took a breath to calm and center herself and opened her eyes once again. The pain in her skull was a dull throb, but this time she could focus.

The stone greeted her once again, but this time, she turned her head and looked around her. The first thing that reached her sight was a large blond haired man. A Nord who stared at her in concern and in front of him was a frightened, dirty looking man, also a Nord, and several others.

All of them were dressed in dirty rags and foot wraps, hands bound behind them with iron manacles. The only ones without iron shackles were the dirty one and blonde one.

Looking around her again, she could see that they were in a large jail cell.

The blonde Nord approached her slowly. Behind him, the dirty man moved to another Nord, this one a woman and began to work at her manacles as well. As his hands worked swiftly and she wondered if he was a thief.

'Hey,' he said, drawing her attention. 'I'm Ralof of Riverwood. You were unlucky to get caught up in this mess, kinsman.' That word made her frown.

'Kinsman? Are we related?' she questioned. Ralof looked taken aback at that and shook his head firmly.

'Afraid not, kinsman.' His face became wary for a moment. 'You are a Nord? Right?'

She frowned and looked down in thought. Was she a Nord? Tall, fair haired warriors that hailed from the providence of Skyrim? 'I think so… I can't remember.'

'That strike to the head must have done more damage than we thought.' Ralof mused. The man continued to examine her carefully, and she wondered what he saw. She wished she had a mirror or a puddle of water to look into. She wondered how she looked herself. Whatever Ralof saw, he seemed to approve of.

'Wait!' A sudden hush filled the cell. Ralof looked back, his whole body tensing. 'The guards are coming.' The unshackled Nords quickly hide their arms behind their back and a few of the larger ones moved in front of the free captives. She heard the sound of a door unlocking and the heavy footsteps of armored boots.

Rounding the corner were three men. Two were clad in heavy mail with the Imperial dragon on the breastplate of their armor. Between them was another prisoner and she found her eyes drawn to him swiftly.

He was clad in prisoner rags just like them, but that's where all similarities ended. His face was hidden beneath a faceless iron helmet and the man's massive, broad shoulders held a pole along his shoulders. His arms were attached to the pole with heavy manacles.

The Nord prisoners moved closer to the cell walls and began to speak among themselves.

'It's him!'

'They haven't slain him yet?'

'I wonder where they're taking him.'

The questions continued for a moment before the dirty looking man spoke up. 'Who's that and why is he wearing that!?'

'That's Ulfric Stormcloak!'

A look of puzzlement crossed the thief's face. 'Leader of the Stormcloaks?'

'Aye, but that's not all he is! He's the true High King of Skyrim and heir to the Empire of Tamriel!' Ralof's voice carried among the prisoners. She moved closer, a small frown crossing her own face as she peered at the man in interest.

The thief frowned. 'What? He doesn't look like any Imperial to me.'

'Not that Empire!' A voice rang out from the prisoners. 'They say Ulfric has the dragon blood running through his veins!'

'I thought the Septims were all wiped out?'

'That's Uriel Septim's line, boy! You remember the tales of old Tiber Septim who used to be Talos of Atmora, Jarl Ulfric is from that line! A true Nord!'

If the man in question heard any of this, he kept quiet and the door banged shut behind him a moment later.

She frowned as she processed all of this information. The men and women around her were Stormcloaks, a group of rebels that did not like the current rule from an Empire? From the way it sounded, he had a claim to the throne as well.

If such a thing were true, she wondered who sat on the throne currently? If the prisoners were right, this Ulfric was a branch family and had a stronger claim to it than the current Emperor of Tamriel who sat on the throne.

She shook her head slowly. All of this information would have to be processed at a later date, if she could somehow get out of this mess. She still wondered how she was a prisoner in this?

She heard the sound of more footsteps. Outside in the hallway the door was thrown open once again and a line of Imperial soldiers stepped through.

'Away from the door, prisoners! Try anything funny, and you'll get a blade for your trouble.' The prisoners backed away and the lead soldier unlocked the gate. The door groaned open and she found herself with the others as the men led them away at spear and sword point.

She was pushed in between the three freed prisoners who kept their hands behind their backs. The Imperial soldiers showed no signs of them knowing that they were free and began to escort them outside.

She stared at the dark walls as she found herself following the line of prisoners, heading up a set of stairs and found themselves outside of the fort and in a large courtyard. A raised platform sat in the middle of the courtyard, elevated onto a platform with a chopping block nearby. Two soldiers stood at the base of the block and standing next to the block was a hooded executioner, holding a deadly looking executioner axe.

The officers, one male and one female, both wore the familiar uniform of the Imperial legion she had come to expect, with the exception of theirs being more ornamental than the others to signify their higher rank. The uniforms were heavy steel plate-mail, a dragon symbol on their belts, heavy shields with the dragon symbol on them, ornament swords, steel helmets with a bigger crest and maroon capes with fur linings.

The man's helmet and shield currently off, sitting on a wooden desk next to him, revealing his chestnut shoulder length hair and he held a piece of parchment and quill in his hands. As they approached, he saw down next to the desk, staring at them with dark blue eyes.

As his eyes fell on hers, he frowned and held up his hand. 'You, there! Hold!' She froze, unsure on what was happening. An Imperial soldier grasped her arm and pulled her away from the others and stood her in front of the soldier. He looked back and forth between her and the list, a frown slowly crossing his face.

'What's the problem, Hadvar?' the woman next to him scowled at the man next to her.

'I've seen the prisoners daily and have listed them all with a base description. This woman is not on the list. Where are you from, prisoner?'

She frowned. 'I'm not sure.'

'Is this some sort of jest?' The woman questioned.

She shook her head slowly. 'I can't remember.'

The woman scoffed. 'A likely story. Send her to the block anyways.'

Hadvar ignored her, peering at her carefully, and his frown deepened. His eyes moved towards the captain. 'General Tullius' orders. We need to secure relations with Whiterun. Executing an innocent could sour our relationship. If anyone wonders why this prisoner has not been executed this day, I will take the blame.' His eyes traveled to the guard. 'Take her back to the cell. Seems the gods favor you today, prisoner.'

And just like that, she was not going to be executed. She sighed in relief, her shoulders slumping as an unknown weight left her shoulders. As the guard marched her back towards the fort, she found Ralof's eyes in the crowd of prisoners. A sad smile was on the man's face and he inclined his head in her direction.

Her eyes traveled upward as a massive beast appeared from the clouds. Large, bat-like wings flapped in the sky and the monster from legends landed on top of a watch tower that sat adjacent to the courtyard.

Its scales were a red-orange color, the detached wings were spread out and blocked out the sun. It's forearms and legs caused the stone beneath it to groan from its massive bulk. Large bony, ridges stuck out from its head, back and tail as dark as the stone beneath it. Its head was crowned by a row of horns that curved back against its head. Yellow serpentine eyes locked onto her own and its lips pulled back, revealing a row of sharp teeth the size of swords.

'What in Oblivion is that?!' She could dimly hear a voice shout out. She was unsure who said it and at the moment, she could not find herself to care.

'Dragon!' Someone screamed, and the creature's maw opened. From its throat issued three words that shook Nirn. A shock-wave of power burst from its throat and sent the executioner and the line of prisoners and Imperial soldiers scattering around like rag-dolls.

AN: So everyone? How was it? Like it, hate it? Want more, or a bit less? I know, probably one of the most different things is the portray of dragons and that's simply my own taste. I love dragons with six limbs instead of the attached wings like Skyrims own and hope that this little part isn't too much of a difference. I'm not sure exactly if the ones with their wings attached will make an appearance since I do like a bit of variety, but who knows so far. Cheers! And hope to see you all in the next chapter.