A/N: Hello! After racking my brain for ideas, I guess this is what came out of it. Some characters may seem different but they will shape up over time.
Now that I think about it, I don't own anything in this story aside from my interpretation of personalities. Enjoy!
Chapter One: First Impressions
Perhaps I was doomed to spend all eternity in this cursed place. There were countless times I fantasized about escaping, only to know it would never happen. Maybe I've already lost my sanity, who knows? When I saw him, opening the coffin with a grin plastered on his face, probably expecting vast amounts of treasure, I couldn't contain the relief and emotions I had. Falling to my knees, I cried. The years of imprisonment in that coffin, the mere idea of freedom was a dream, a fantasy. I looked at the young man as if he was my knight in shining armor, I owe him my life, my everything, I thought. However, the doubt crept into my mind. What if he's here to betray me, just like everyone else? It seemed gratitude could easily be replaced with caution.
What seemed like hours of silence spent staring at him, preparing for the worst scenario possible, I memorized his appearance. He couldn't have been older than eighteen, his eyebrows showed strength and were pitch black. He wasn't Nord, Imperial, Redguard, or even Breton. I couldn't tell what he was. Like his eyebrows, his hair was pitch black, ridiculously long, reaching his below his lower back, and was tied together with a single shred of red cloth. His bangs lied just above his brows, separated an inch to the left and began again. The lad's bright emerald eyes showed much confidence, I feared it could have been arrogance. He was tanned and from what you could see, he was neither bulky nor skinny, just between. He was toned for battle.
Many things went through my head as I thought about how to thank or question the stranger, but before I could say anything, he sighed. Frowning, he looked around the area in search of something.
"Sir?" I called after him, without much thought. He paced back and forth and groaned. My suspicions were partially confirmed as he muttered, "This was a complete waste of time. Why did I even bother?" He glared at me and shook his head. "They said there were piles of treasure here. Liars."
This is why I hate Skyrim men.
I should've guessed he wasn't here for me, but regardless, he saved me. I couldn't believe Mother would lock me away like that, even if it was her plan. I suppose she might have forgotten me here. No, she wouldn't have, I knew better. She was so kind, always tending to the castle gardens. Aside from biting and sucking the blood of poor and unwary travelers, she was a wonderful person. Perhaps she was corrupted by Molag Bol, same as Father, who was an important person in Cyrodiil, until he became a royal vampire and had to hide away his immortality. He hated humans, they would always hunt us when they learned of our fate. I didn't know why, but when Mother locked me away, she gave me a large scroll and told me to keep it far from Father.
The young man saw the scroll and his eyes gleamed. "Can I have that?" His grin widened. "It looks like it could be worth a fortune, given the right...details." I wanted to rid this country from men like him once. It was a few hundred years before I was locked away like some cursed princess. Father would have royal dances to try and arrange a marriage for me, for his royal ties actually, to a neighboring lord. Every single one of them were rotten to the core and I hated them. For many years this routine occurred; dance with this lord, spat quiet insults only he could hear for each step we took, then outright reject him in front of all of his subjects.
I looked at the scroll and it's possibilities of revenge. An idea unveiled itself as my smile widened. I nodded, but as he reached I calmly moved out of the way. "You can have it after I've returned to Father." I lied, my expression remained menacing, but I knew I was excited. "Until then, I hope to have your assistance in escorting me there." For what she did, I will obey her every whim no longer! Giving Father her beloved scroll would be a fufilling punishment. The lad sighed and crossed his arms, debating how much of a pain it was going to be. "You'd better not double-cross me." Was his only response before leaving the crypt.
If he was going to be this difficult, I would've ran before I got to know the brat. However, there were bodies around my coffin. It was a possibility he did it, so he might be useful later. I looked at my garments and noticed the layers of dust collected on it. I didn't want to depend on him, but perhaps he might have spare clothing.
Stumbling outside the cave, the cold night air stung my pale skin. It brought life to my veins, however, not my walking. I tripped over a rock and fell to the ground with no aid from the vigilant prince. He could've at least helped me stand, I sighed. This is going to be a long trip.
Could he whine any louder? I wouldn't be able to stand him even if he bribed me with the emperor's crown. In all of my life, not even Father's jesters were this annoying. Maybe I should've just slit his throat and be done with it, but my conscious wouldn't have allowed it. Was he a noble's son? No, not even those snobs were this pathetic. Dawn broke just above the horizon and I could my strength waning. My pace slowed, I couldn't keep up with the brat any longer. Eventually, I couldn't take another step and collapsed to the ground. The area was covered by thick layers of snow, it seemed like we were near the northern part of Skyrim. When my vision started darkening, I heard a beast approaching. This couldn't be the end, could it? A petty overgrown cat was no match for me...in my normal state. As the cat saw me, it knew today was an easy supper. Perhaps I was doomed the moment I was trapped within the coffin. My eyelids shut themselves and all I could do was listen to my doom. I could hear another animal join the hunt. Growling became louder, then nothing. Was I dead already? I might be more pathetic than my selfless hero if I was going down this way. Before I could pity myself any longer, I lost consciousness.