I. WINDHELM
Dovahkiin & Alduin
It began with the razing of the Stormcloak capital, Windhelm.
Alduin was a fierce beast of black scales, they didn't see him coming for the night had long hours yet to come and the only light had been from the moons of Maser and Secunda. The dragon was impatient, he wanted proof that his decision in trusting the Dovahkiin was not worthless, and before the great fires of war raged on he dropped her before the bridge to the magnificent city. The snow was soft and the billow of white flakes made the ivory strands of her hair fly about. Fiercely she walked forward, each proud footstep leaving an imprint in the snow. This destiny felt right.
The wind felt colder here than it did on the mountain. She hated the sea, hated the smell, the water was for fools and elves as far as she was concerned. Upon the gusts of ocean spray came the smell of fire and the screaming of innocent souls that Alduin began to terrorize. A smile curled her plump lips as a thought of bardic tales came to mind as she continued her walk towards the large gate, a tune following suit with an almost skip-like hope. "Alduin's wings, they did darken the sky." The Dragonborn mused to the moons above her. "His roar fury's fire, and his scales sharpened scythes."
Her voice was light and airy but she was no bard. Singing was the only thing that she had remembered her mother being good at but it was never a trait passed down to her. The Dragonborn was good at two things and only two things: wielding big blades and talking her way out of predicaments, and not with a silver-tongue either. But with gold as lovely as her eyes. There was no such thing as sneaking in her blood, no such thing as luck, just punching and bribing. And she was damn good at punching things bigger than her. That she got from her father, Divines take him.
Beneath her thick pelts and fur she shivered with a chilling delight as her fingers opened the door to reveal a savory sight of ash and flame. Alduin that wretched beast hadn't taken long to cause mayhem and death as far as the eye could see. Hopeful, those running wild and desperate had caught her eye and they looked hopeful to see her. They were happy to see the Dragonborn and even so much so as relieved. There was no smile upon her lips then. Just a hard line as her long fingers grabbed the great axe to wield it for battle.
"Dragonborn!" an elf as dark as the flames that billowed into the sky screamed, cold and panic shaking him to the bone. "The dragon! It's destroyed the grey quarter and- and it's going for the palace!"
Dramatic was all that the Dovahkiin could think. Alduin was as dramatic as the day was long and it made her shake her head. Pushing past the scared elf, the woman wandered through the debris and found herself approaching the great steps where her eyes had fallen upon shouting guards and crying citizens. This terror made her heart rush and in this moment she finally felt the power that her destiny foretold. All she had done before was run around and do mindless tasks, right stupid wrongs, and nothing to show for it other than a few gold coins. It made her gut ache at the thought. Somewhere in time there were memories of mindless tasks being all that had kept her from starving...
Irregardless she was here now and here to take hold of her promised future.
"Talos be praised, Dragonborn, the beast has us trapped!" A curious raise of the brow followed by a curt turn of her head made for a most amusing stare as the Dovahkiin stared at a monster of a Nord. He was Ulfric's man, wore a bear pelt as a prize, and she couldn't help but to feel tired of him already. Old and foolish was all that she could say. So very old.
"Where is Ulfric?" The Dragonborn asked which had caused a mildly confused exasperation to erupt from his lips.
"Inside the palace? We have a dragon to worry about, not the Jarl!"
Her brows furrowed then and her voice raised at the ignoring of her question. "Bring Ulfric, now!"
In spite of the fear and fire Galmar tightened his fists as he muttered some words beneath his breath. The few guards that weren't currently worrying about the dragon stood and stared for but a moment. Her heart rushed and she felt almost hazy at the feeling of power. Gods, why hadn't she done this sooner?
Within moments both Galmar and the Jarl had come to the Dragonborn. More guards came pouring out of the palace in order to protect their mighty lord as he entertained the Dovahkiin. She was prim, however, and stood tall next to him as their eyes met. The last they had seen one another they were escaping Helgen. Curious how those events back then shaped the events of now.
"Ah, Dragonborn," the Jarl began smugly despite the current fire burning his city. "I trust there is a reason you are speaking to me and not slaying the dragon?"
"I have come to take your city." she replied just as calmly. He stared and so did she, he was unsure if he heard right but he smiled at the thought as if choking back a laugh.
"Take my city? With what? You have nothing to take my city with."
It was then that the Dragonborn laughed and it rang out like music. The Jarl and his guards stood and stared with a certain confusion as she laughed for a moment longer. "That is where you are wrong." the woman of fair, snow colored hair mused. "What I have is currently taking your city."
Suddenly there was a feeling of power and as if their souls were already entwined, the great beast of black scales perched himself upon the palace. His weight was heavy and it caused the ice upon the palace to shake and fall to the ground, it shattered in different directions upon impact with the stone flooring. The vermilion eyes of Alduin stared down at the now speechless Jarl and his people as they stood scared. The Dovahkiin smiled and gripped her axe tighter.
"You can't possibly be serious?" Jarl Ulfric managed to spit out as Galmar pushed himself between him and the Dragonborn. "You were the hero of legends, you were promised to free us! Not kill women and children!"
Before the woman could reply there was a sudden fist in her face as Galmar saw fit to punish her for even threatening his Jarl. It cracked her nose and stars formed as she stumbled backwards, the blow all too quick and hard. And wet, it was warm and wet from blood. Overhead the sound of ice crashing to the ground rung out in her mind. He was a big man, his fist was even harder. Unexpectedly the woman fell to the ground, her axe tossed to her side, as the pain stretched itself further around her head.
But then there was a sharp feeling followed by a smell of blood and ash, and upon the dark winds a voice spoke to her.
"Do you remember what I told you, little cub?"
The fire raged on and the sound of screaming echoed out against the dark night. Was it somebody else's blood or was it her own? The taste of rust was upon her lips yet she could not tell the difference. It was bitter, it made her tongue swell, and the more the saliva dripped about it become ever more present. Whose it was didn't really matter though, the voice inside of her head made her temples throb like drinking too cold of water too fast on a sun's height day.
"Do you remember what you vowed as my daughter, Nurnhilde?"
It was then that the Dragonborn regained herself. Wobbly like a newborn foal but stubborn like a mule, the Dovahkiin rose back to her feet with a now bruising eye and a dripping nose. The blood stained her fur as her eyes burned like iron upon a forge.
"I was not asking for your city, I was demanding." the woman spat through bloody teeth. A deep laugh erupted from the black dragon then and like the ice shattering against the ground the raging pain on her face spread further and further with anger. She reached downward and grabbed her axe with cold fingers and lunged forward, hate fueling every piece of her. Galmar, enraged by the entire situation as well, had also thrust forward like a viper to prey. She was going to make him pay for that.
"Pahlok joorre! Hin kah fen kos bonaar!"
Black wings flashed past her and made for an icy burst of snow as the deep voice commanded like a god. Through the swirl of ice crystals the sound of a great, shrill cry could be heard followed by the ghastly sound of horrified gasps. Upon the ground all that was left of Galmar Stone-Fists was his weapon. The weapon that he had intended to strike her down with. Angrily she grabbed it, tossing her own to the side, and with the built up ferocity her eyes met the Jarls'.
"What say you? Your life or your city?"
For once Ulfric had no voice. He stood quiet and though desperate to put up a fight he lacked the actual ability to protest. He was stubborn though, stubborn like most nords. "If I surrender then Skryim will have no protection from the elves. You are a daughter of these lands, you cannot possibly let it fall to the Empire."
Then almost as if upon que the sound of yelling became louder and louder and with a sudden thud a spray of red marred the Dragonborn's already bloody face. Those in their presence were hushed into silence, aghast by the once living Galmar's body now flattened by the weight of gravity before them. Still furious by the lack of respect made the Dovahkiin look mad with the touch of red to her fair skin.
"Your city or your life?" she asked once more.
"I cannot leave Skyrim without a protector." he responded solemnly. The Dragonborn moved her eyes towards the closest guard and gave him the look of a mad witch.
"To the dungeons with him. Any defiance will result in this exact same end."
Nodding, the guard grabbed Ulfric and he began to lead him to the dungeons. The silence continued and Alduin above began to laugh once more. He was amused by his Dragonborn's ruthlessness and affirmed his decision in taking her as his. They were going to be a great pair, it was written in the shock and terror upon the faces of the armored men who were supposedly there to protect. Mortals were truly foolish indeed if they thought they could take down such a proud creature.
"Nust wo ni qiilaan fen kos duaan- Those who do not bow will be devoured." Alduin spoke with a calm, forceful tone.
"Bow or your souls are ours." The Dovahkiin added and slammed her brand new axe to the ground. The guards, unsure and turning to one another, shakily bent their knees. They were afraid and the terror suit her heart well. The golden eyes then fell to the mangled thing upon the ground before her and noted the bear pelt that hadn't been nearly as bloody as the rest of the mess. Quickly tearing it from the corpse her eyes looked it over and a sudden thistle-like sting marred her heart. Thoughts of the voice earlier made her think to her father. He liked bears, they reminded her of him.
Swallowing those thoughts hard she decided to sport her new trophy to her brand new servants.
"Zu'u hin daan! Bow, mortals, I am Alduin! My time has come again."
Ruthless and indestructible, the two new rulers of Windhelm stood proud as the new day began to herald their victory. Nothing could take them down, nothing would, and all of Nirn was to be theirs as long as they stood together. The smell of the salt made the Dragonborn feel nauseous, however. She hated the ocean. Somewhere out in the fields of Riften a new twist of fate began. Little did he know the sudden change of fate twisted his and soon he would heed his calling.
It began with a fire too.