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Force.Balance.Push.
Helgen
The cart lurched as it passed over a stone; those bound inside it were tossed and jolted. The only women in the cart woke with a start. Her eyes opened heavy and fuzzy, she looked around at the moving scenery. It was beautiful, there were moving through a snow covered pine forest. The trees appeared to climb into the sky and touch the clouds, their branches heavy with snow. The weak sun winked between the trees as they moved along the path.
''Ah your awake,'' The young Breton turned to the kind voice and was met with the smiling face of a blond Nord. His hair once braided was mattered and dishevelled and hung limply against his face. ''You were trying to cross the border right? Walked right into the Imperials, like that Horse thief.'' He said, no the Imperial soldier had walked right into her, found her wading through the snow and had called her a spy.
The Breton looked upon the horse thief, he was dressed in rags, maybe they thought his clothes had worth like they had done with her. His hair was slicked back with dirt and grime, no this man looked like he lived in rags. She tried to remember him from earlier at the Imperial camp and found she couldn't. She concluded they must have picked him up when she had been sleeping.
''Damn Stormcloaks. Empire used to be nice and lazy. I could be half way to Hammerfell by now,'' The thief looked at me, ''you and me were not supposed to be here. It's these damned Stormcloaks the Empire wants.'' From what she had gathered the Nord before her must have been a Stormcloak. Casting her eyes to the cart ahead she saw that they all must be Stormcloaks and they were against the Empire for so reason. The thief was right; they didn't belong on the cart with the Stormcloaks. Then silver caught the edge of her eye.
Sat beside her was a man dressed not in the Stormcloak armour but a silver cloak that covered his hunched figure. His hands bound like them all. But also his mouth, she found this odd. Who was he...?
''We're all in binds now thief.'' The blond Stormcloak responded soberly.
The thief paled and whimpered, he suddenly looked at the gagged man besides the young woman. He studied him for a few silent moments, then he seemed to come to the same conclusion the Breton had only moments before.
''What's wrong with him?'' All eyes turned to the silver draped man. She remembered him from the night before; he had looked at her with disdain and condescension. She hadn't liked him, he had immediately judged her. His eye's met hers they were dark and cold; those were the eyes of a ruthless man.
''Watch your tongue! You're talking to Ulfric Stormcloak. The true High King.'' She had to hold back a laugh. He was a political man, of course!
A deep fear was instilled in the thief at those words.
''The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. If they've captured you...Oh Gods where are they taking us?'' The Breton watched the shaking thief, she had no idea what was going on but she had a feeling they were in deep shit.
''I don't know Horse thief, but Sovngarde awaits.''
...
The convoy passed under the stone gates the gates pushed closed with a rumble. The Horse thief was whispering hurried prayers the Divines.
''Look at him, General Tullius.'' The Breton turned to see a rather short man atop a horse. She knew of him, he was the Military Governor though she had never seen him in the flesh. She had expected him to be more...imposing...not a grey haired old man. ''Looks like the Thalmor are with him too. Damn elves.'' The Nord hissed.
She was surprised at the pure venom in his voice. She knew that the Mer and Nords had never exactly been friendly, but did the hatred really run that deep? ''This is Helgen, I used to be sweet on a girl from here.'' The Stormcloak appeared to be stuck in his memory of his lover as the convoy rumbled houses. The occupants were watching them from their porches, doorways and windows. They were a spectacle, entertainment.
...
The carts rolled to a grumbling halt.
''Why are we stopping?'' Asked the thief his voice shrill with panic.
''What do you think thief? End of the line.'' The Stormcloak responded softly.
As they rose to vacate the convoy the thief continued to yelp his and apparently the young women's innocence. The Imperials paid no head. ''Face you death with some courage thief.'' The Stormcloak scolded.
The thief turned to the Breton eyes pleading. ''You've got to tell them. We're not rebels.'' The young women wished she could have said something to consol the thief, no words came to her.
''Step up to the block when your name is called.'' Shouted an Imperial woman in far more armour then seemed portable. As the group stood the Breton became aware of much taller the Nord men were to her. All of them easily a good foot or so higher than she was, and shoulders wide as she was tall. She remember with a slight smile being told a long time ago as a child, that Nords fought bears with their fists, kept giants as pets and lived in mountains for houses. She found herself almost believing the tales.
''Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm.'' Ulfric turned and walked head held high, eyes burning to stand with his already called men.
''Ralof of Riverwood.'' The blond Nord who had been kind to her followed his leader in silent acceptance.
''Lokir of Rorikstead.'' The thief stepped forward, pleading in a rushed voice.
''No, I'm not a rebel.'' The Breton's stomach sank to somewhere in her toes as she watched Lokir bolt. Then came the whistle of arrows through air, she closed her eyes. She heard a light thud. He wouldn't have gotten far anyway, the gates had been closed. Swallowing bile she opened her eyes waiting for her name to be called.
...
The Nord Imperial studied her for a moment before looking down at his list. He raised his eyes to hers still studying her.
''Who are you?'' It was like getting slapped in the face. The Breton's mind reeled. She had been dragged her, stripped of her possessions, left to die from hypothermia and now faced the chopping block. To find she wasn't wanted, she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
''Lianna of Daggerfall.'' The Nord Imperial turned to his superior.
''Captain she's not on the list.''
A tiny fragment of hope burned in Lianna's chest, she was innocent. They could let her walk free. She was no rebel; she was no threat to the Empire.
''She goes to the block.'' The tiny fragment of hope was snuffed out in an instant. Lianna walked forward to be amongst the Stormcloaks.
...
Tullius stood before Ulfric smirking from ear to ear. Lianna could have laughed at the size difference of the two. It was like a rabbit talking to a Frost Troll.
''Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the voice to murder to king to murder his king and usurp his throne.'' Wait he killed the king with his voice...what? Lianna thought. Ulfric grunted loudly into his gag. ''You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down and restore peace.''
Lianna suddenly shuddered despite herself. Then came a distant roar, all eyes went to the sky. Lianna searched the sky but found only clouds.
''What was that?'' Asked an Imperial
''It's nothing. Carry on.'' Tullius responded. ''Give them their last rights.''
A priestess dressed in orange began to say prayers but she was cut short when a Stormcloak stepped forward.
''For the love of Talos, shut up and get this over with.'' The priestess's eyes hardened and her lips pursed.
''As you wish.''
The Stormcloak marched to the block, kneeled and was pushed down to rest his head on the block, by the Imperial captain's boot.
''My ancestors are smiling at my Imperials, can any of you say the same.''
The executioner swung his axe and with an easy downward sweep sliced through the Nord's neck. The disembodied head bounced into a crate. Lianna felt her stomach heave and her eyes stung. The Stormcloak's body was kicked to the side.
''Next, the Breton.'' Shouted the Imperial Captain. Lianna's innards plummeted to the balls of her feet. Again came that roar, nearer than before. A pulsing shuddered racked her spine. And again the mysterious noise was dismissed. Feeling giddy as she walked to the block, kneeling she hesitantly placed her head of the block. It was moist and warm; she faced her executioner and noted a watch tower climbing into the sky behind him.
The sky was a deep blue with a few sparse clouds...wait what is that. Lianna thought. It was something dark and was fast approaching. At first Lianna mistook it for a bird, it was flying after all. But the immense size of it was not of any bird she knew. It came closer and her mouth fell open. The executioner swung his axe high above his head.
''Dragon!'' Somebody screamed. The great flying lizard landed on the watch tower. It's great red eyes met Lianna's, it opened it great mouth it's teeth glittered in the sun and roared.
First off if anyone doesn't know what Mer is it's a word that means elf or elves, generally a term used by elves. But since Lianna's a Breton I think she'd use it. Secondly I apologize for using game dialogue but I couldn't really not use it and it's important dialogue but boring dialogue espically if you like me listened to it pushing on five times. Thirdly I hope you enjoyed the chapter :) I was having a blast writing it :3 Now about the next Chapter...I'll upload either tomorrow of Christmas Day, yes I'm that dedicated :) Happy Christmas and New Year!