Disclaimer: I do not own Elder Scrolls: Skyrim or the characters therein. I do however, own my own Dovahkiin and any other original characters that may appear.
Author's Note: Welcome to another brain child of mine which was spawned from the idea that maybe there is another reason why the Dragonborn is the Dragonborn at that particular time. This is to give me something to write while I work on altering the plot line to my Eragon story while I read the last book. Onward!
Prologue: The Hunted
Sometimes she thought that maybe her life was just one big cosmic joke for the Divines to laugh at, all at her expense. Selena Silversong had been down on her luck for most of her life, most of her troubles started with the fact she was half-Nord and half-Breton.
Her father, a proud Nord and a war hero no less, had been the one she had inherited her blond hair and piercing blue eyes from. Many strangers had commented to the two that they had never seen such a shade before that stood out so much but in the end was always shrugged off. It had also been her father who had encouraged her to learn combat skills. He had taught her how to wield both a sword and a spell at the same time, something most warriors seemed to ignore. Then one day when she was seven he had gone into town and never came back.
Her mother, from whom she had gotten her height (unfortunately) and doe eyes, had waited three days before she packed up what they needed and moved them from High Rock into Cyrodiil. Using her connections, her mother had managed to get a small farm for them to live on. The work had been tough but rewarding.
Selena herself had been in charge of taking care of the few animals they had while her mother oversaw the workers and simultaneously ran an apothecary. She'd learned what she had about alchemy and the restoration school from her mother as none of the other schools had interested her. Life at the time had been good.
Then the Thalmor came.
It had been a cold, winter night and Selena had been sitting in front of the fire reading when her mother had burst into the room. That night her life had been shattered as her mother had hidden her in a secret compartment in one of the cabinets then moved away from it so as not to give her away. She had died that night and a part of Selena had gone with her. At ten years old she had been orphaned.
The only thing she paused to grab after the Justiciars had left, setting the farm ablaze as they went, was the strongbox that had held the family papers, her mother's locket and the thing she had really needed: the savings.
Selena couldn't tell you how long she had wandered the countryside, rage and grief boiling inside her until a Khajiit caravan had found her. The old leader, Maikina, had taken pity on her and taken her in. Her experience with the farm animals paid off and she had been in charge of looking after the horses that pulled their carts. For the next five years, she traveled with the caravan and learned whatever the Khajiit would teach her. Looking back on it, she wasn't exactly proud of those things she had learned in the name of survival.
Then everything fell apart again.
A Thalmor Justiciar had stopped the caravan looking for her and she had been forced to kill him. Maikina had then arranged for her to go live with a friend of hers, a barman named Wanders-Many-Forests. He worked at an inn in a small out of the way village near the borders of Skyrim. The owner of the inn, an Altmer named Elunrei, had reluctantly allowed her to stay there so long as she "earned her keep".
Elunrei never tried to hide her Mer supremacist ideals and had barely tolerated Selena's presence as a member of the staff. But Wanders-Many-Forests had made up for it, rewarding her for a good job or just trying to get her to laugh.
When she turned sixteen, a Nord named Torkan moved into the village as their new blacksmith. He had fought in the war and had suffered a leg injury that forced him to walk with a limp and a cane. The quality of his work though was impressive and Selena would spend her free time at his forge watching him work and sometimes he even taught her what he knew about combat.
Time passed slowly but Selena didn't mind too much. The rage against the Aldmeri Dominion festered in her heart even as she felt worthless.
By the time she turned eighteen, Torkan had had enough. He had always told her she belonged elsewhere. That she could do some good in the world if she only put her mind to it. It had been a particularly bad day at the inn and Elunrei had all but throw her out to "teach her a lesson". Torkan had allowed her to sit by his forge as he worked and she relayed the details to him.
Finally he had huffed something insulting towards Elunrei under his breath then limped over to a large chest he had over to the side of his forge. He roughly opened it and gestured for her to come over. Inside had been some well crafted gear which he pulled out and handed to her. "I made those for you." He had said as she looked over the leather armor and steel sword. "It's time you take that savings you've managed to work up and get out of this pit." She had stood stunned.
"You are meant for better things girl. Get out there and show the world what you are made of."
She had done just that. She had taken the gear back to the inn where she had promptly quit and told off Elunrei like she had wanted to do for years. As a goodbye present, Wanders-Many-Forests had given her the enchanted pack that could store anything up until its weight limit was reached. The first thing that went into it was the old strongbox and her coin purse.
For a year, she wandered Cyrodiil doing what good she could do by helping people. One day, she had been feeling over sentimental and had rooted out the strongbox from under all the clothes she had managed to get. Opening it, she had first taken out her mother's locket and decided to wear it from that point on. Shifting through the papers that her family had treated like gold had brought her an interesting discovery.
She was descended from the Champion of Cyrodiil herself. More papers showed that her father had actually been trying to locate the tomb of their ancestor and had narrowed it down to Skyrim where she had apparently moved to with her husband after the Oblivion Crisis.
When she turned twenty she finally decided to see if she could locate that tomb, as a tribute to her father in a way. Once she crossed the border though her life turned into the butt end of a joke again, it was new being accused of being a rebel of a fight she had originally not known was even going on. Part of her wondered which Divine was laughing at her when she got rescued from her execution by a dragon of all things.
Things got crazy for her then, discovering she was a Dovahkiin or Dragonborn. She hardly considered herself a hero and knew she looked even less of one, sometimes she wondered how she had even survived the fight with Alduin.
After that had come dealing with the civil war. Considering her deep-seated hatred of the Thalmor she wanted nothing to do with the Empire that would bow to their desires. So naturally she had sided with the Stormcloaks and somehow found another family of sorts.
Placing Ulfric on the throne had made her feel that maybe now no other child would have to go through what she had gone through at the hands of the Thalmor. She respected the man, even though he came with a nice size list of faults but then again everyone had faults. She hated when someone accused him of being racist because wasn't the Thalmor the same way? If she heard one more Justiciar state that Mer were so superior to man she was going to make sure they wouldn't find a speck of a body.
"Selena?" Her head snapped up as Jorleif took a seat next to her at the table. She smiled at him, shuffling the papers before her into a neater stack. Turning a little more towards the steward, she tucked the papers back into her bag.
"Sorry, a little lost in thought there."
"Quite alright lass." Jorleif said. "Are you any closer to finding the tomb?"
Smiling, she gestured to the map still on the table. "Thanks to the information you provided I've been able to narrow it down to somewhere along the water between Treva's Watch and Faldar's Tooth. The writings hinted at the 'Northern banks' so that's where I intend to start. If I leave now, I could make it by dusk and camp out. Start my search nice and early tomorrow that way."
"Best inform Ulfric, Stormblade." The steward said as he helped himself to some mead.
Selena nodded, she was quite aware that the Thalmor were becoming active again. What worried her was it had only been a year since Skyrim had broken free and she knew she wasn't the only one wondering what they knew that the Stormcloaks didn't. It was because of this increase in activity that Ulfric had been keeping her close, readying for another fight.
She was so close though to her original purpose for ever coming to Skyrim in the first place. All she wanted to do was find it, look around then return. She wanted to find out why her father had taken such great pains to find it. And perhaps she wanted to pray for some guidance that her ancestor's great spirit could grant her, some indication of what she should do.
Getting to her feet, Selena picked up the map and headed over to the throne where Ulfric was lounging. She could never figure out how he could be comfortable there, after all the blasted thing was made of stone. Then again, she supposed it was probably the same way that people in Markarth seemed okay with sleeping on stone beds. Maybe it was a hidden talent?
His gaze landed on her a few feet from the throne, she knew she had his attention. He gestured at the map. "I take it that you have learned the tomb's locate then?" His deep voice sounded through the room, causing a small shiver to race up her spine. She hid it behind a large grin.
"I've discovered it's general location! I'll be leaving shortly to get it's exact one, if all turns out well I should be back in two or three days." His eyes were boring into her and it took everything she had not to let it show how much he was affecting her. She respected him, a part was even in awe of the power that seemed imbued in his body. The problem was that side she kept very much buried as far as she could go, the woman who was enchanted by him.
"Be wary of spies, for all we know that Thalmor may have laid a trap for you." He said, and her gaze softened. It may of not been in the way she would have liked but the man still cared in his own way. And that was the way he showed it.
"Turning traps around are my specialty." Selena chimed, her smile turning impish. Oil lamps were her favorite after all.
Ulfric nodded. "Then go. The sooner you return the sooner we can find out what the Dominion is up to."
She bowed. "Of course, your majesty." This time her smile was completely wolfish at his small scowl. Ulfric may have been High King but he favored practicality over anything as was made apparently in the Palace of the Kings. As a close friend, he wasn't overly fond of her using titles on him.
"After you get back," he said, his voice a mix between a growl and a rumble, "go to Galmar and see if he has any news that you could put to use." With that his gaze returned to the room and Selena turned to retrieve her pack from the table. She'd already placed everything she needed into it so all she'd have to do is begin her long cross country hike.
With one last wave to Jorleif, she headed out of the palace and down through Windhelm. Greeting many of her friends, she finally reached the main gate and stepped out into a fine clear day.
Squaring her shoulders, Selena began her journey.
If she had known what she would find there however, she would have gone straight to Galmar and forgotten all about the tomb. For what she would find there would turn her whole life upside down.
Author's Note: Well, here's the prologue. I tried to show the optimistic side my Dovahkiin has, always looking to the bright side and all. Here's to hoping I showed that well enough along with one of her major faults: her hatred of the Thalmor that can get a hold of her despite her better judgment. I'm using this story to try and show character growth, according to some I've done well enough on my Eragon story but hey, practice makes perfect.
Next Chapter Preview:
Selena gripped the journal tightly as she broke out into a cold sweat. She held in her hands the very thing that her father had been searching for, she was sure of it! Whatever was inside was important but that was obvious. This was the journal of the Champion of Cyrodiil, a very record of the Hero of Kvatch in her own writing. Looking around, she found a fallen pillar that could serve as a chair.
Crossing the room, she sat down and turned the book over in her hands a couple times before opening. She started when she heard something fall free and land on the stone at her feet. Curiously, she shifted the journal aside to look at what had been so carefully stored inside the book. It was a gold amulet, one that had clearly seen better days. The backing was bent and the center jewel appeared to be missing, though the other gems were that were to surround it were still in place. It was a beautiful piece, even mangled as it was. Selena balanced it on her thigh as she turned back to the journal. Maybe within its pages there would be some reference to the battered amulet.
