Happy New Year guys! While I should have a plan to try and upload regularly, I feel like I'll either forget or get too busy. So for now, I'll just take my time until I get more review to push me,
Sorry it took me so damn long guys. Hope the wait was worth it!
Alessandra groaned and slowly opened her eyes. Her head rested against her shoulder and she saw her feet. They were covered in simple cloth wraps. Then she noted the wooden cart underneath her foot. Her muscles didn't respond; it was like she was drugged. She turned her head and saw the back of and Imperial helmet. She blinked, head still swimming and looked in front of her. A Nord was leaned on his shoulder with his mouth slightly open. To her right was another drugged man with a gag around his mouth and a dark-haired Nord. The man with the gag seemed to be dressed in fine clothing unlike herself and the dark-haired Nord. The man in front of her wore blue armour. She suddenly wished she was a man and squeezed her legs shut. She shifted slightly and felt her hands tied behind her. Panicking, she noticed that the dagger wasn't with her. Her brothers had warned her and this is what happened. She screwed her eyes shut and she thought of her mother. Was she all right? Would she at least cope that her youngest and eldest children were possibly dead? Alessandra sighed and opened her eyes. The Nord in front of her was staring intensely at the forest. She stared at the greenery and wanted to go home. His foot gently nudged hers and her face shot up. He smiled at her and her stomach twisted.
"Hey, you. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there." She frowned at him and shook her head. His face fell.
"No. I wanted to go see my brother, Alexander. He's with the Legion." At the word 'Legion' the Nord's face twisted and the man to her right shifted. Her eyes flew to his and he stared at her. She turned back to the Nord with the armour. "So, no. I wasn't trying to cross the border. How long was I out and what ambush?" She tilted her head at him. The Nord sighed.
"You weren't out very long, princess." She scowled at him but he didn't seem to notice. "Are you not well acquainted with the war?" Alessandra pondered for a moment and then shook her head. The Nord glanced at his kinsmen with the gag. "My name is Ralof, by the way."
"Alessandra." She stated simply. She hadn't even tried to think of a fake name. She glanced around to see if she could escape. The only way she could escape would be through sheer dumb luck. The Imperials handled their prisoners well. Ralof whistled lowly and then chuckled. She frowned at him. Did he not think her capable in battle and war?
"Named after Saint Alessia, eh? You must be an important one?" Ralof chuckled again and shifted slightly. "Right, so the war—" The other Nord, the thief, cut him off.
"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and be halfway to Hammerfell." The thief turned towards her and leaned forward. She leaned away, uncomfortable by the man's hungry look. Ralof had only glanced at her with words, but since she seemed to rebuff him, he did not try and force her. This thief, however, seemed to have never seen a woman before.
Ralof, noticing her distress, laid a leg against the thief's chest to stop him from coming to close to her. The horse thief glared at him. The gagged man came to her rescues as well, as much as he could. He pushed her against the side of the cart with his body. He smelled heavily of a dark musk and warfare. Alessandra's nose wrinkled; she was used to smelling men who smelled bright and clean. He glanced down at her apologetic—of the way he smelled or the fact that he was pressed against her, she didn't know. She had always been taught to be wary of Nords that they would try to rape her. Instead, it seemed that they were protecting her.
"You there. You and me - we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." She glanced at Ralof. Where these men Stormcloaks, her sworn enemy? But they were kind! Well…somewhat. The thief pulled back and slowly the gagged man pressed away from her. She inhaled the clean of air of Skyrim with relief. Ralof shifted back so his foot touched hers. She traced his arms with her eyes and then stared at his blue armour. It seemed to be mocking her; blue was her favourite colour.
"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." Ralof replied, slightly bored, and reclined. He closed his eyes as though he were going to take a nap. The Imperial soldier shouted that they should shut up. Ralof's mouth twisted slightly, but he was silent. Alessandra felt complied to listen as she had her whole life. These men had guarded her, fought with her, and helped her in every situation. But here, in her most dire need, they were the ones who didn't listen. Would they ask for the brand? The brand of the Legion? She doubted it. To them, she was caught with the Stormcloaks. In despair, she shook her head to move her hair to curtain herself. She repeated the motion when her hair did not fall to her face. In panic, she glanced at her shoulder. Her hair was messily cut as though with a battleaxe and it brushed her shoulders in uneven strands. Her waist length hair was gone. She gave a panicked yelp and Ralof opened his eyes. The Nords looked at her with concern.
"What is it, sweetheart? What happened?" She looked up at Ralof with her mouth twisted in disbelief and her eyes wide with panic. He frowned and leaned forward.
"My hair. They cut my hair. Oh Gods. Everything I had was in my hair." Ralof sighed and leaned back.
"It's okay, Alessandra. Hair grows back." She shook her head at him. "And everything is not in your hair. How else would you explain you war paint or your muscles and scars?" On her right forearm, in the very middle was a burn mark from when she first learned to cook with her mother. On her left bicep was a thin white line from her uncle teaching her how to fight with a sword. Her father had nearly healed it, but the general had insisted that she keep her first battle scar. Alessandra wore the scar proudly; after all, that was the only scar on her body. She had learned to hide in the shadows after that and often defeated the general's men in training.
She had war paint along her eyes that were purple. When she was younger, she blended the red of the Legion and the blue for Stormcloaks. It had been two years since the Markarth incident when she was born. She grew up with talk of Stormcloaks and the Empire fighting. As a child, she didn't understand why Cyrodiil was fighting with Skyrim. She believed that if Skyrim wanted to be free, they should otherwise they should stay with the Empire. Looking back on it, Alessandra realised it would've been very easy if she had chosen to be with the Stormcloaks. But she chose the Empire because of her family. She chose the Empire because Skyrim was still part of the Empire.
"I-I guess you're right. Thank you, Ralof." He nodded with a small smile and the solider spoke again.
"Woman! Shut up over there or I'll make you shut up." She almost bit back, but she knew she could do nothing if he had violated her. So she kept her mouth shut and leaned on the gagged man for a moment. He tilted his head onto hers and she noticed how warm he was. She had never met a man so warm. She could drift off to sleep if she closed her eyes and imagined herself home.
Oh. Home. Gods, she was a fool for trying to check on her brother.
"So…what's wrong with him, huh?" The horse-thief jutted his chin to the man she was leaned against. She pulled back and looked at his face as though she would be able to tell. Ralof nearly jumped in the air.
"Watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King." Alessandra blinked and nearly gagged. She had just taken solace in Stormcloaks and Ulfric. Did her teachings mean nothing? She felt sick to her stomach. Her father had told her tales of the Jarl. He was unjust to what he deemed the lesser races, which was each race not a Nord. The dark elves, the Dunmer, were forced to live in slums called the Grey Quarter and the Khajiit were not allowed in the city. Her father told her than Jarl Ulfric only cared for his personal gain. He did not care that his soldiers were freezing outside in the city of Windhelm as he was in the warm Palace of Kings, eating and drinking. As a child, she had always wanted to march up to the jarl and slap him upside the head. And here she was, leaning against him. Alessandra shifted away from him and Ulfric frowned. She stared at her feet. She wanted to go home. She wanted the Imperial City back and not this cold land.
"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they've captured you... Oh gods, where are they taking us?" The thief mumbled. Alessandra's face was sombre and she heard Ralof sigh. She knew she was going to die and it would take a Divine to save them, maybe more.
"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." She frowned. She wished she could see the beautiful plains of the Nord afterlife. She had heard stories from Aaron. He was a Nord from the Imperial City who was sweet on her. She had rejected him many times, but still they remained close friends. Aaron had told her tales of the afterlife and how the grass was impossibly green and the sky changed colours. He told her of all the Nords who fought bravely went to Sovngarde. Noting her fallen face, he amended it by saying brave warriors of any race would be allowed in the afterlife. She truly wished she could go there, but she knew she would surely just go Dreamsleeve for a few years and then come back. Didn't the Nords stay in the Hall of Valor until Shezarr called them? Or would it be Shor as is how the Nords refer to the Missing God?
"No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening." The horse-thief shook his head repeatedly. Alessandra looked away from him. She studied the road and how they climbed downhill. Ulfric shifted his feet to keep his balance. She didn't care at this point and let herself touch the back of the soldier's back. The soldier stilled but did not speak. She leaned fully against him and exhaled. Her breath was warm and he shivered.
"Hey, what village are you from horse thief?" Ralof asked quietly. He almost seemed to be consoling him. She listened to his soft voice. If she died today—when she died today—would she at least be comfortable in the afterlife?
"Why do you care?" The thief bit back.
"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." He replied honestly and a soft smile appeared on her lips as she closed her eyes. She did not know why the soldier had not said anything spiteful, but was thankful for his silence.
"Rorikstead. I'm…I'm from Rorikstead." Home, huh? What were her brothers doing? Were they mourning or were they still in the dark? Did Maitiú tell them yet?
"General Tullius, sir. The headsman is waiting." A guard called and Alessandra's head shot up. If her uncle saw her, maybe he could convince them to let her go. She had done no wrong and they would surely listen to the general.
"Good. Let's get this over with!" General Tullius barked and she jumped. He had never spoken like that with her when they trained. He was harsher with his soldiers and her brothers. She knew it was because she was female that she had a pass, but she wished he were a little kinder. They passed the main gates and she looked up to see the Legion staring down at her. She looked back down to see the thief's head bowed. He mumbled under his breath and she caught wind of the Divines' names. She was surprise that he did not take the great Talos, Tiber Septim's, name. Didn't all Nords believe in the Ninth Divine?
"Look at him." Ralof's voice was sharp. Alessandra looked to see her uncle talking with the Thalmor. "General Tullius the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this." So, Nords didn't like elves just like the rumors said. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. She did not like the Thalmor herself. It's not that the White-Gold Concordat was wrong, but if they hadn't signed it, the Empire would've collapsed. If the Nords took a step back and the Thalmor backed away from the Empire, maybe they could talk it out. But the Redguards would still be a problem. Alessandra sighed. She really was diplomatic just like her people. She hadn't meant to sneer, since she was absorbed in her thoughts, but when Ralof laughed her face broke and she looked at his smiling face. "Don't like them either, huh love?" The name rolled off his tongue and passed her ears. She shook her head.
"Don't get me wrong. I like elves, unlike you Nords." She hadn't meant it as an insult, but he frowned slightly at her. "I just…feel uncomfortable with the Thalmor, you know?" He nodded. She turned to look at Ulfric who was staring at her. She frowned at him and shifted away. She felt uncomfortable by his stare just like the presence of the Thalmor. Ralof sighed.
"This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in. Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe." She nodded sadly. Three days ago, Imperial walls made her feel safe. Now, the only feeling she felt was foreboding. Slowly, the carriage stopped. She saw the other Stormcloaks shift out of their carriage. Alessandra did not feel doom or panic; she felt at peace. She had done no wrong and thus did not fear her death as she did earlier.
"Why are we stopping?" The thief's voice became higher pitched with panic. She pitied him; he was everything she was not. Even if she was always the rouge like character out of her family, she never panicked even when guards came and attacked her with her blindfolds.
"Why do you think? End of the line. Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us." The cart slowed down.
"No! Wait! We're not rebels!" Ralof sighed and Alessandra wanted to kick the thief. He looked around in panic.
"Face your death with some courage, thief." Alessandra agreed silently.
"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!" She shook her head. At this point, it was useless to argue. Death was all that awaited. Slowly, they stood. Ralof's warm breath tickled the back of her head. Ulfric jumped out of the cart first. He landed on his knees and she winced. The soldiers laughed and she wanted to help him stand. She swallowed and the thief stepped down awkwardly. His foot caught the end of the cart and it started the bleed. He gave a small yelp. Alessandra glanced back at Ralof who smiled. She jumped down with ease, keeping her back erect. Ralof landed beside her and slightly tipped into her. She glanced up, but he was still smiling sweetly. She couldn't help but let her mouth curl up.
An Imperial Captain stood with a soldier who was a Nord. The Nord soldier had brown hair, but she could not see his face from the distance. She would assume he was handsome until she was closer. He held a list and the woman sneered at the Stormcloaks.
"Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time." Alessandra's stomach flipped. This was the end.
"Empire loves their damn lists." Ralof muttered to her left. She shifted her weight and knocked into him lightly. He looked down at her and she glared. He muttered an apology under his breath.
"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm." The solider looked up from his list. He had a pleasant voice. The other soldiers grew smug looks. Ralof looked close to tears and his voice cracked.
"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric." Ralof gave a shaky smile at the Jarl. Ulfric seemed to smile behind the gag. Alessandra felt envy; knowing that kind of intimacy and loyalty was rare. Sure, her uncle was the general, but that wasn't what she meant. There was a certain loyalty Nords held even those with the Empire that did not match the Imperials. It was almost as though Nords acted out of feeling and emotions and Imperials moved with strategy and mathematics.
"Ralof of Riverwood." The solider's voice seemed to choke at Ralof's name. Alessandra frowned. Ralof glanced down at her and smiled as though to reassure her. She nodded hesitantly and he walked to the other soldiers who were lined up. She watched him stand the furthest to the right.
"Lokir of Rorikstead." The thief shot up. She realized she had just heard his name.
"No, I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!" Everyone held their breaths as they saw him running towards the gate. Everyone collectively thought, idiot for they knew he was going to die.
"Halt!" The woman yelled. Lokir did not stop sprinting and the archers raise their bows.
"You're not going to kill me!" Before the captain could even give the command, the arrows flew. He crumbled to the ground, but Alessandra did not pity him. He wasn't even going to get his last rites and most likely wasn't going to go to Sovngarde. After all, he did not die like a warrior.
"Anyone else feel like running?" The captain looked at the Stormcloaks, passing over her entirely. She felt slightly relived and slightly angered for being neglected. The rebels fidgeted but moved closer to their Jarl. He held his head high and stared at her uncle. Alessandra respected them for that, their loyalty to their Jarl. If the Nords had a motto it would be 'loyalty above all.'
"Wait. You there. Step forward." The soldier looked at her and tilted his head. She inhaled and took a step towards him. The captain looked down at her, but the soldier almost smiled at him. Up close, she could see that he was handsome, but in a boyish way. He did not have the roughness of Stormcloaks and did not appear hardened by battle. If she were not in this situation, she would've been in love with him. Yet being with those Nord for those few minutes had changed her. "Who are you?" He asked the question as though never seeing an Imperial before. She blinked and took another step forward. The sun was warm and her skin itched.
"My name is Alessandra. I hail from the Imperial City." She turned her head towards her uncle, but he was too engrossed pulling out a list. Did the Divines intend for her to die? Maybe she should just stay quiet.
"You're a long way from the Imperial City. What're you doing in Skyrim?" He mumbled to her. She turned back to him. Before she could respond, he looked at the captain. Clearly, he didn't care for her reason for being here. "Captain. What should we do? She's not on the list." A small sliver of hope appeared. If the captain decided that she could be free, she would go home and never come back. Her uncle would take her back or maybe he would let a few of the soldiers escort her home. She dropped her head and stared at the ground. She let a prayer go through her mind that the Divines would let her live.
"Forget the list. She goes to the block." Her stomach dropped and she looked at the captain with a blank expression. The captain narrowed her eyes at her, but began to walk towards the block. The solider sighed.
"By your orders, Captain. I'm sorry." He sounded genuine as he looked at her. "We'll make sure your remains are returned to Cyrodiil." She nodded. She suddenly could not feel anything and felt undead as she walked towards the line of Stormcloaks. The solider held her arm as he walked with her.
"Hadvar. I'm Hadvar." She looked up at him and he smiled at her. She gave a half smile in turn, slightly comforted. He released his hand, but stood right behind her. The captain seemed to notice this and motioned for him to move. He moved over a little to her right, but she could still feel his warmth.
Ralof was at her right and he glanced at Hadvar. He shifted his weight and she could almost feel the male tension. She wanted to clear her throat, she wanted to go home, she wanted to be surrounded by women. But these Nords, these Stormcloaks, were unlike anything she had seen. Even the women were harder than most Imperial men. She longed for an Imperial, a certain kinsman that was done wrong. Still, she felt some comfort that no Imperial blood would be spilled save for hers. There was a certain honor and duty in that though, she thought with a smile. Nords have their loyalty and she had her honor. Together, they could do anything.
Alessandra looked down the line and saw mostly Stormcloaks. However, there was one Nord who was wearing just ragged trousers. She stared openly at his naked flesh for it was a rare sight even with six older brothers. She hadn't even seen Aaron without his shirt, but that was expected of an alchemist's son. Her older brothers, when they spared, wore simple clothes that covered them. Thinking back on it, it was rare to see a man's calf.
This Nord's skin was not flawless like hers. He had a long scar from the left side of his collarbone down to the middle of his diaphragm. It appeared as though he had been cut with a dagger. He must've been bound and naked for dagger scars are never that bad unless tied and have exposed flesh. Why kind of person would hurt him like this? She thought immediately, hurt and concern for him while anger for the person who hurt him. From what she could see, his back and arms were covered in small white lines as though he had been whipped. She frowned; this person was far too cruel. She would find them and kill them. She blinked. Why was she being so protective of a man she had just seen? She shook her head and continued to dissect his body, worrying about his past for later. She would say he was that most handsome—most beautiful, even—man she had seen and there were plenty of men she had seen. He had long, blond hair that sat past his shoulders. She felt slightly jealous. He had two braids adorning the sides of face tied with red ribbons. His hair was slightly wild like hers and she had to wonder if he had some Imperial blood.
The morning light filtered through the clouds. The sun caught his hair and it gleamed with pride. Her hair was, no doubt, turning into a copper shade. His hair was clean from blood and dirt. The rebels' hair was always covered in something be it sweat, blood, or dirt. It appeared that the Divines preferred him to be clean in this blood soaked land. He held his head high like the Jarl. His brows were slightly furrowed and she realised his glare was pointed at her uncle. He wore a slightly bored expression otherwise as though the Legion had interrupted his lunch. The other Stormcloaks glared at the Imperials with ducked heads. They patrolled with their swords drawn.
The Nord's eyes were a dark blue. They were not like the sky at the night, but the sky just after evening had settled and the night creatures awoken. His jaw was square and she noticed the muscle as he clenched his jaw. His nose was straight and pointed down unlike her button nose that pointed slightly up. His mouth was slightly parted and she saw the end of his breath. His lips were pink and full. She wanted to know what they felt like against hers. She blinked, surprised at her thought. She glanced away from him. Her mind had been filled with him for too long. Alessandra felt like she was glowing and pulsating with warmth. She felt his gaze at her waist and how it traveled upwards. Her skin flared and his gaze rested at her cheeks. She rubbed it on her shoulder since her hands were tied. He chuckled and her stomach lurched. She felt his gaze for another moment, but it disappeared when she heard her uncle speak.
"Ulfric Stormcloak." Collectively, the rebels moved. They held their heads higher and it seemed that a glow from a Divine surrounded them. It was gone in a moment. "Some here in Helgen call you a hero." A few of the rebels opened their mouths to cheer for their Jarl. The Imperial soldiers shifted the weapons more offensively. Letting their gaze turn to fire, they glared at the soldiers and then the general. The Nord she had been staring at had not shifted. His only movement was his inhales and the Kynareth playing with his hair. "But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne." The people of Helgen and a few of the Imperial soldiers cheered. The Stormcloaks shifted. So it was true then. Ulfric had learned how to speak the Thu'um. Did that mean he was the Dragonborn of legend or can the Thu'um be taught by anyone? She wondered to herself, not entirely sure what the Voice was.
Ulfric moved his mouth, but the gag held his tongue. He frowned then. A few of the soldiers smirked at him as though it were a victory to have a man gagged.
"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace." Her uncle spoke passionately. The hearts of the soldiers gleamed with pride for this man. Alessandra wanted to trust her uncle for he was her kin, and there was truth in his words. Ulfric had plunged Skyrim into chaos from what she heard. But was it right to kill a man like this? By beheading? Should he not perish in battle? Alessandra shook her head. No, Ulfric may never perish in battle. This would be the only way for a fact that he would die. A roar sounded above them, breaking her from her thoughts. Her eyes shot to the sky. She squinted at the harsh light; her vision faded for a moment.
"What was that?" Hadvar asked from behind her. The captain motioned him to her and he walked towards the executioner. He stood in front of the block. Alessandra caught his eye and frowned slightly asking, do you know what that was? He slightly shook his head and she moved her gaze to the handsome Nord. The Nord was staring intensely at the sky. He was bent slightly down as though expecting an attack from a sky. Not that anything came from up there. Except dragons but that's been a few eras since their disappearance.
"It's nothing. Carry on." General Tullius shushed Hadvar. A priestess of Arkay stepped forward to give them their last rites. Alessandra tore her eyes from the man and looked at the priestess. She closed her eyes as the woman spoke.
"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessing of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved…" A Stormcloak rebel to her right groaned so loud that the priestess stopped.
"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with." Alessandra flinched at the Ninth Divine's name. She swallowed thickly; she was in a land where the Ninth Divine was very much real. The priestess sighed.
"As you wish." The rebel walked towards the chopping block. He kneeled down and the captain put her foot on his back. The rebel grinned at his brothers and sisters. He seemed so comfortable and at ease with his death.
"Come on, I haven't got all morning. My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" She stilled at his comment. Were my ancestors smiling at me right now, as I am about to die? She thought to herself. No, they wouldn't be. The executioner raised his axe. Just as he swung the blade down, Alessandra looked at her feet. She heard the telltale sound of the spinal column being shattered. She shuddered and bile rose to her mouth. She spat it out at her feet and a Stormcloak glared at her. A few of the other rebels yelled things. A rebel to her left screamed, "you Imperial bastards," while others from the town exclaimed, "justice," and "death to the Stormcloaks." Alessandra felt sick. She looked up to see his body slowly fall to the ground and his head rolled into the basket. She burped and vomited at her feet. The rebels moved away from her and Hadvar went to her immediately. Her knees buckled and he held her arm.
"I gotcha, I gotcha." He whistled to another soldier and requested that he bring water. The soldier did and Hadvar placed the glass at her lips. Alessandra drank it and the acidic taste in her mouth was replaced with a sweeter taste. "There, better?" He pulled the glass away and the captain barked at him to return to his most. He frowned and slowly released her. Ralof walked towards her and she leaned on his soldier.
"I got her." He spoke to Hadvar. The Imperial soldier seemed to dislike the idea but walked back to his post. "As fearless in death as he was in life." Ralof commented at the top of her head. She glanced up at him. His lips quivered and he looked so lost and confused at the body. She wished her hands were free so she could give him a hug. "You'll be like him, yes? Promise me." He mumbled to her, looking down. She pulled slightly away to look at his face better. She slowly nodded and he smiled at her. "That's my sweet girl."
"Next, the renegade from Cyrodiil." The captain called. The same roar shouted above them. Alessandra felt herself grow cold and it was not because of Skyrim's snow. That roar was a warning, she realized. It was a warning to her Imperial brothers. That thing did not want her to die here; it wanted to kill her by its own hands. She shivered. That roar was a challenge, a taunt and it was up to her to respond.
"There it is again. Did you hear that?" Hadvar asked no one in particular, but it seemed like he was trying to delay time for her. She had no idea why because there was no way she could escape.
"I said, next prisoner." The captain barked and Hadvar sighed. He watched her with mournful eyes. Ralof leaned at an angle to touch his soldier with hers. She looked up at him with fear and he motioned for to walk. She inhaled and stepped forward
"To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy." She had wished Hadvar used her name. Maybe then her uncle would notice her and explain that she was innocent. Her wish seemed to be granted for she met eyes with her uncle. He frowned at her as though trying to understand who she was. She knew that she looked like a mess, but she also knew that he would be able to tell who she was. She saw the recognition in his eyes, but she turned her head. What could her uncle do, anyway? Say, "Stop! That's my niece!" and somehow let her live? The Imperials would never leave her alone even without a crime. She knew she would have to face her untimely demise. If I get out of this, she thought to herself, I am so going to kill my brother.
"What is today?" She faced Hadvar. The executioner stared her down. Helgen seemed to become quiet at her voice. She heard the thickness in her voice from the vomiting and cleared her throat. "Today. What is today?" She repeated and Hadvar blinked as though getting out of a trance.
"It's Turdas, Alessandra. It's the seventeenth of Last Seed." She nodded. What a boring day to remember. She thought on her life. Twenty-three years of absolutely nothing. She had basic training in fighting, could make potions and food. She was also a good healer, but that was it. She lived such an absolutely boring life and here she was going to die. She didn't even have an adventure.
Alessandra looked up at the sky. There was a warm breeze and if she just closed her eyes, she could almost smell the sweet Crydillic air. General Tullius seemed to be swallowing his own tears behind her. A few of the rebels shifted in their line; they looked at her nervously. The Imperial captain did not push her down and instead, by her own free will, Alessandra kneeled in front of the chopping block. Hadvar moved out to reach for her but curled his hand into a fist; there was nothing he could do for her. She lied on her side and stared at the executioner. The man's eyes seemed hollow of everything. She licked her chapped lips and did her best to ignore the warm blood at her neck. The executioner raised his axe. Everyone inhaled sharply and held their breaths. Alessandra kept her eyes open. The roar sounded again and she something move in the sky. Her brows furrowed and her mouth parted
No, it couldn't be. There was no way.
Dragons still existed?!
She didn't realise she had yelled the sentence, but the world shook as it landed on the tower behind her. There was a silence for a moment and the dragon seemed to look directly at her.
"What in Oblivion is that?" Her uncle yelled. The executioner swung his axe down, oblivious to the world. However, the dragon seemed to have other ideas. The dragon opened its mouth and seemed to shout. The executioner was thrown and crushed. The sky turned to a red colour and fire rained from the sky. She gulped; she would've taken the executioner's axe than the dragon's mouth. She vaguely heard her uncle scream for the soldiers to get the townspeople to safety. She lay there, watching the dragon. Hadvar had his sword drawn and passed in front of her. It seemed everyone had forgotten her existence because of this dragon. She felt slightly jealous.
Still, the dragon was a magnificent creature. Its scales shined in the fire and they were as black as what she imagined Void to be. Its eyes were red that glowed with power and hatred. A calm feeling washed over her and she ignored everything going around her. Dragons shouldn't be so full of evil and hatred. Just as quickly as she was calmed, another feeling that was much more powerful engulfed her. She felt as though she were drowning. She was hypnotized by the dragon's sheer existence. She knew that she was staring at the end of the world in the face of a dragon.
Alessandra closed her eyes. I'm at home and this is just a very strange dream. She smiled and the world became warm. She smelled her mother baking bread and making warm soup despite the spring weather. She heard the twins flirting with the neighbours' daughters and the girls' giggles. She felt the warm grass at her back and tasted the cool air of Cyrodiil. Her father smiled at her and she grinned largely. He dropped a book on her stomach and she lurched upwards from the contact. Her eyes opened and she saw the chaos. Everything was covered in smoke and fire. She heard people screaming and soldiers were shooting the dragon. She looked around, thinking. A dragon just saved me.
Slowly, she stood up. She caught sight of the dragon breathing fire. She ducked instinctively. She looked around and tried to find an escape. She saw a Nord frantically waving his hands from a tower. She began to run towards him and noticed that her hands were still bound. She did her best to not trip over any bodies.
"In here! This way! Come on." He called to her as she neared. She had never realized that having her hands bound could be so tedious. She knocked into Ralof and he spun her around. Someone slammed the door shut. Ralof's warm hands seemed cool unlike her exposure to the flames. She noted that the door was wooden and that the dragon was spewing fire as hot as the sun. She did not think long on it, however, and leaned into Ralof's embrace. He was cool, which was a pleasure against the heat.
"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legend be true?" He adjusted her slightly so he could speak to the jarl. She turned her head so her ear rested against Ralof's chest. His heart was hammering. Ulfric was crouched in front of the door and looked through the makeshift windows. He was no longer gagged and seemed at ease with the presence of the dragon. He opened his mouth and she tensed as though he was going to use the Thu'um against her
"Legends don't burn down villages." Ulfric's voice was cold and hard like stone that was beaten by harsh winters. Yet he sounded sure and righteous; she almost caught herself agreeing with him. No wonder the Stormcloaks seemed so mesmerized by him; he truly was mesmerizing. She felt as though this man could tell her tales of anything and they would be true. "We need to move now!" He added with haste. Ralof nodded and moved away from Alessandra. The coldness left her as the Nord left her. Heat threatened to engulf her. She nearly gagged on the hot air.
Ulfric looked at her and slowly stood. He blinked and shifted his gaze to Ralof. "Keep her safe." She blinked; surprised that he was concerned for her. Ralof nodded and lightly touched her arm. She jerked and looked at him. He smiled at her.
"We need to head up through the tower. Let's go." She nodded and Ralof whistled. The Nord she had been staring at a few minutes ago seemed like a distant memory. His beauty still stunned her. Her mouth seemed to go numb and she lost her train of thought. He stood behind her and she could feel the cold radiated off of him. It was like the far north of Skyrim had wrapped him tightly and stated that he would have no warmth. She noticed the Nord's scar and saw that it was both ugly and beautiful. The Nord was staring intensely at Ralof as though awaiting a command.
Ralof gripped Alessandra's bicep tightly and she gritted her teeth. She saw his fingers turning her skin white from the pressure. She pulled her arm slightly towards her, but Ralof didn't seem to feel her tug.
"Alessandra." Hearing her name, she stopped. Ralof sighed and released her arm. He drew out his sword and took a step forward. The tower shook, but she didn't notice. The Nord who she had stared at was leaning against the wall. His voice was warm and soft. He spoke in a whisper as though he was not used to speaking at a normal volume. Her name flowed out with ease with all the accents placed correctly. Imperial names were hard for Nords; they often stumbled on her name as she did with theirs. He smiled and the room seemed to glow yellow. Or maybe that was the fire outside. "My name is Vercingetrox. In case we meet again." She blinked and he laughed. His laughter was louder compared to his speech like any Nord, but it was just as loud as her words. His laughter was a slight breeze caressing her skin from a warm day before dying down.
"I've never heard such a Nordic name. Promise me you'll tell me your story one day, Vercing." She shortened his name and his face grew sombre, as though recalling an old memory. He slowly nodded.
"We need to move!" Ralof reminded them, breaking their intimate conversation. Alessandra sighed and Vercingetrox placed his hand on the small of her back. She was a step ahead of them when the dragon burst through the tower. Alessandra's eyes widened and she felt herself fall. Vercingetrox pulled her into him. She landed hard against his chest, and he had to keep himself steady with a hand on the wall. His body was strong and hard, like a warrior. Her body was still soft because of her luxurious life.
The dragon turned to look directly at her. Alessandra stilled and the dragon shouted a word. The word rang in her ears, but she did not understand what it was. It sounded familiar and she felt her throat grow hot like flames. Fire spread from the dragon's mouth and touched the edges of their clothes. Ralof touched her arm and Vercingetrox released her.
"Are you alright?" Ralof asked her. She nodded and he pulled her up the stairs to the newly formed hole. He pointed to a burning building in front of the tower. "See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going." She did not hesitate to jump. She landed roughly and grunted. The flames licked her sick and she left herself fall down to the ground area. She did not notice that Vercingetrox did not follow. She slowed down and looked around. The dragon had landed a little ways away and archers were still shooting at it.
"Haming, you need to get over here. Now!" She heard the familiar voice and saw Hadvar. A child ran towards him. "That a boy. You're doing great." She saw Hadvar smile but noticed the fear in his eyes. The dragon opened its mouth and the fire killed a man beside them. "Torolf! Gods. …Everyone, get back!" She did not move and he nearly stumbled into her. He gave her a sly grin. "Still alive, prisoner?" He said the last word mockingly and she couldn't help but grin. "Keep close to me if you want to stay that way. Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join the defense." He addressed an older man who nodded.
"Gods guide you, Hadvar." Hadvar motioned for her to follow and she slowed for a moment.
"Alessandra! Move!" She turned her head and saw her uncle running towards her with his sword drawn. She ran forward and saw Hadvar leaning against a building that was mostly intact. She leaned against the building as well and the general joined them within moments. They panted and slightly slid down the wall. The world seemed to slow down behind the building. "It is good to see you again, niece."
"Wait, what?" Hadvar turned to the two Imperials. Alessandra gave a breathless laugh.
"We're related. Can't you tell?"
"Couldn't he have gotten you out?" Alessandra shrugged and the dragon roared fire from above them. Hadvar pressed himself against her. As the dragon moved away, he pulled away to peak around the corner.
"I don't know. I wanted to make sure my brother came here safely. I wasn't anywhere near the border. I rested last night and when I came to, I was thrown in a cart without any of my belongings in a foreign place."
"I am thankful you are still alive." The general commented. She nodded. "Alexander is safe; he is in Solitude if you wish to see him. Unless you are going to go home after we get out of this mess."
"I think I'll explore for a while. I've always wanted to come and travel here." The general nodded and kissed her on the forehead.
"Hadvar?" The Nord stood to attention. "Keep her safe." He nodded and her uncle ran around the corner to aid his men. Hadvar was silent as he guided her towards the keep. She saw a man dying and something compelled her to stop. An Imperial solider was holding a Nord's hand and cradling his head with his other hand.
"Tell my family…" He coughed and the soldier gripped his hand tighter. "I fought bravely." The soldier looked down at the man sadly.
"The wounds are deep, Vilod. I can't stop the bleeding." Her mind went to Ralof. He would never taste the mead again, should he get out. Alessandra furrowed her brows and ran towards the familiar leather armour of Hadvar. Hadvar looked angrily in front of him and that's when she saw the blond hair. Ralof and Vercingetrox were in front of them. Her stomach jumped and the Nord smiled at her. Hadvar stared pointedly at Ralof.
"Ralof! You damned traitor." Hadvar bit at his kinsman. "Out of my way!"
"We're escaping, Hadvar." Ralof replied calmly. His palms were up. Vercingetrox took a step towards the keep. "You're not stopping us this time."
"Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde." Hadvar grumbled and ran towards the other door. "Quick, I can cut you loose inside the keep." The other Nords looked at her for a moment. She bit her lip. Vercingetrox waved at her and Ralof extended his hand. She shook her head and Ralof's arm fell to his side.
"I'm sorry." She ran towards Hadvar, who pulled her by the arm. He glanced back at his kin and she saw some form of longing in Ralof's eyes. Vercingetrox held the door open for his companion. Alessandra looked behind her to see the black dragon sitting on the wall. Soldiers were shooting arrows and fire at it. The dragon opened its mouth and instead of flames, growls came out. Alessandra shivered.
"Zu'u Alduin. Zok sahrot do naan ko Lein!" But she did not understand it. Later, she would find that the dragon had said, "I am Alduin. Most mighty of any in the World!" Not thinking about the dragon, she followed Hadvar, who ran to the keep. She fell face forward and the cold marble was nice for a change compared to the flames from outside. Hadvar pushed the door and nearly tripped over her.
"Are you alright?" He put his hand on her back and immediately pulled it away.
"Yeah, just exhausted." The keep boomed with dull sounds of the dragon roaring and the soldiers fighting. It took a dragon for the Legion and the Stormcloaks to fight together, Alessandra realised. She sat up, resting on her legs. Their laboured breaths seemed to fill the otherwise silent keep.
"Looks like we're the only ones who made it." Hadvar commented through breaths. She nodded, staring at the floor. She felt as though she could stay here until she died. She was absolutely drained and part of her had no hope.
Alessandra. You must go forward. A voice like a mother filled her thoughts, pushing the hopelessness away. It was cold, but still loving. She could feel a raven's feather at her mouth and a dagger in her hand. She blinked and she touched her lips. A raven's feather fell from her mouth. She stared at it before taking it into her hands. This was a sign from one of the Divines. It had to be.
"Was that really a dragon?" Hadvar's voice pulled her away from thoughts of the Divines. "The bringers of the End Times?" Said dragon roared behind them and Alessandra jumped. He extended a hand and pulled her up by her elbow. "We should keep moving. Let me see if I can get those bindings off." He held her wrists delicately as he cut the rope with a ragger. She paused for a moment and traced her spine with a finger. She jumped away in response and stared at him with wild eyes. No man had ever touched her. While she would normally thank someone from freeing her, she just stared at Hadvar. Maybe she should've gone with Ralof.
Hadvar cleared his throat. "Take a look around, there should be plenty of gear to choose from. I'm going to see if I can find something for these burns." He motioned to his legs. She nodded and looked through the different chests. She found some gold and tied the pouch to her waist. She placed the raven's feather inside the pouch. In case she needed it later.
In a chest towards the door, she found Imperial armour. She dressed herself quickly, thankful that it was light armour. The chest piece stung at her burns on her arms and she summoned a familiar orange glow of healing. She quickly ran her hands along her arms as well as her feet. She sighed. She felt much better after that. She slipped into her boots and slid the bracers along her arms. She had often dressed herself when she trained with her uncle. She tied her chest piece behind her and pulled out the skirt to cover her legs.
"Here, let me help you." Hadvar came up behind her. She stiffened. He began to retie the chest piece. It was so odd. This man was more her kin than the rebels, and yet she felt at ease in their presence. Maybe it was just the fact that she had nearly died and she was too caught up with staying alive. He stayed behind her for a moment before his body heat vanished from behind her. She sighed and moved to adjust her hair when she realized it was still short. "Are you capable with a sword?" He asked and she nodded once. She pulled a sword off of the weapons rack and held it at her side.
"My uncle is the general, of course I'm 'capable' with a sword." Her voice was mocking. He glanced down for a moment, ashamed. She tapped the iron with her nails, pursing her lips. "I'm better with dagger and bows. I was never good with iron. It's a very weak metal."
"What do you mean? Steel is a little better." She nodded and looked around the room. For some reason, this man was making her feel nervous. She just wanted to get out of Helgen and go home.
"I've trained with my uncle and brothers since I could pick up a sword. I've always preferred lighter weapons like glass or elven. Once I used an ebony sword, it was my grandfather's, and that was the best sword I've ever used. Alexander always used weapons that suited a warrior. That's why he joined the army. By my weapon choice I probably would've been with the Dark Brotherhood or the Thieves Guild." She laughed then. "My mother wouldn't have it. So I just trained instead. I became more and more adapted to the shadows. My uncle would often have me go against other boys who wanted to join the army. While none of them ever defeated me, a few of them were good enough to go. I almost wish someone would have beaten me." She stopped, realizing she had been rambling.
"We should keep moving. That thing is still out there." Alessandra nodded, having slightly forgotten the dragon. Hadvar pulled the portcullis and they headed through the keep. She stayed behind him. Hadvar muttered to himself and she caught wind of some of what he said. "A dragon… first in a thousand years…" He looked back at her and gave an uneasy smile. "Don't worry. We'll get out of here, somehow. I can't decide if things are about to get worse or better. At least we don't have a dragon to worry about. We're better down here than out there." She nodded to reassure him. He was visibly shaking. She stopped before him, hearing two people speaking. She immediately crouched down and summoned healing magic in her left hand and the sword in her right. Hadvar didn't notice until he was nearly at the opening.
"We need to get moving! That dragon is tearing up the whole keep!" The first solider sounded like a young boy
"Just give me a minute…I'm out a breath." The second solider was a woman.
"Hear that? Stormcloaks. Maybe we can reason with them." Hadvar whispered behind him to Alessandra. In response, she pursed her lips. There was little chance that the Stormcloaks would listen to reason especially if the man who had aided in sentencing their jarl to death was that one speaking to them. It would be more likely that they would grin and cut his head off. She grimaced at her vivid imagination. She opened her eyes and saw panic in Hadvar's eyes. He was standing in the centre of the room with his hands up. There was a sound of shing! and one following closely behind, signally that both Stormcloaks had drawn their swords.
"Hold on, now we only want to…If you want to die, so be it." Hadvar sighed and drew out his own sword. Alessandra slowly stood up right and stepped out of the shadows. They didn't see her and she ran up to the young boy. She gripped his neck tightly, feeling his Adam's apple bob against her palm and with her sword arm, held the sword like a dagger and plunged it into his heart. His body crumbled against her and she held the man's waist as they sank to the ground. Fear and shock filled her blood. She had never killed before. Her stomach tightened and her vision had black holes in them. She turned her head to her right and vomited violently. She began to cry and held the dead boy—because he was too young to be a man—to her chest.
"Oh no. What have I done?" She didn't know she had spoken. Hadvar kneeled beside her and when she finally stopped vomiting, he handed her a water skin. She took a small sip and swirled the water against her hot mouth. She spat it out on top of the still hot vomit. She then drank and drank the water. She hadn't had water in hours. She exhaled as she tore the water skin from her mouth. She handed the water skin behind her only to notice that Hadvar was looking at around door. She let her head touch against the boy's head. She noticed that his skin was changing into an ashen colour. She kissed his crown and gently moved away from his body. Summoning the healing magic once more, she let her hand wonder over her mind, her lips, and down her chest where it rested at her stomach. She felt herself calm down and she nodded slowly. She went to lean against a cool stone pillar. Her skin seemed to hiss at the change in temperature. She held onto the water skin.
"Let me see if I can get this door open." Hadvar mumbled. She didn't nod or speak a word. Instead, she did her best to keep her legs still. Hadvar looked back to notice the Imperial woman clutching the water skin and staring at the floor as though she thought it would explode in a moment. Tentatively, she stepped forward and nearly fell face first. Beads of sweat broke out along her forehead and arms. Hadvar took a step forward, but she stopped him with a raised hand.
"I can do this." Her voice was soft and slightly broken, but he believed this woman. He would follow her to the ends of the earth. A strand of hair came in front of her face and she gritted her teeth as she pushed it back. Having it's own agenda, it came back. She looked as though she was going to scream. Instead she swallowed the yell and took another step. Her hands shook and her eyes swam with tears. It was steadier. By the time she reached Hadvar, who had finally opened the door, she was walking with her steady gait. She swallowed thickly and gave him a weak smile before quickly going down the stairs. She was about to toss the water skin back to her, but he shook his head.
"Keep it. You'll need it if you stay here." She nodded her thanks. As they rounded a corner and approached a door, there was a shout. "Look out!" Hadvar yelled and pushed her to the wall. The roof by the door collapsed. Alessandra stared at the broken bricks in wonder. He pulled her up. "Damn. That dragon doesn't give up easy." She continued to look at the broken rubble. Hopefully no one died. They continued on and heard two Stormcloaks speaking urgently.
"What are you doing? We need to get out of Helgen. Now!"
"These Imperials have potions in here. We're going to need them." Alessandra crouched down and hid by the door. If she went out and fought those two, who knows how she would feel. Hadvar ran into the room with a yell and he made short work of them. When it was silent, she peaked her head it. The bodies were gone and only bloodstains remained. She frowned and stepped forward. Hadvar came back with a bag. Without him saying anything, she began to search the barrels and shelves for food and potions. He watched her as she leaned insides barrels. She grinned as she found a few carrots from a barrel and in another she found different kinds of potions.
She tossed his half a loaf of bread and some cheese. She grinned at him as she began to eat. He chuckled at her and sat down in front of her as they ate together. She pulled two bottles of wine off the shelves and handed one to him. She took small sips of the wine before putting the rest into her bag. He finished off the wine quickly.
"Did you ever get anything for your burn?" She gestured to his legs. He looked down, having forgotten the pain. He shook his head at her. Alessandra bit her lip and looked away from him. After a moment's pondering, she summoned healing magic and placed her hand flush against his leg. With weak spells, the closer one was, the easier the spell went to the person. The burn slowly disappeared. The warmth from the magic enveloped him and he closed his eyes in pleasure. It had been a long time since he was healed. Her hands moved away from his right calf and only for the warmth to seep into his other leg. Suddenly the warmth disappeared. He opened his eyes and would've ordered her on her knees again, but saw her sweating face and how she slightly shook. She pulled out the cork of a blue potion and hungrily drank it. She stopped shaking. "Better?" He nodded, mutely. "Go see a priest of Kynareth as soon as we get out, okay?" He nodded again and took the lead.
"The torture room. Gods, I wish we didn't need these…" Hadvar groaned. She shuddered. She didn't want to see anything like that. A steel sword cut through the air and they slowed once more. "Come one. Sounds like trouble." Alessandra sighed and tightened the grip on her sword. They killed the soldiers together. A calming warm filled her bones as she sheathed the sword.
They are in the place of Nords, my child. They go to Sovngarde and are at peace. Alessandra nodded at the maternal voice in her head. She saw the image of a woman wielding a dagger and with bloodstains against dark armour. Another Divine? Alessandra wondered, recalling the raven woman. She looked at the dead Nords and nodded at their cold bodies. They were at peace; there was no need to panic. She saw an iron dagger. While it was still weak, it was a dagger and she felt better. She took the book underneath it as well, shoving both of the objects into her bag.
"You fellows happened along just in time." The torturer and his assistant walked towards them. "These boys seemed a bit upset at how I've been entertaining their comrades." The torturer chuckled to himself as he moved a body with his foot. Hadvar and Alessandra looked at each, grimacing.
"Don't you even know what's going on? A dragon is attacking Helgen!" Alessandra would've thought Hadvar mad once she heard the words leave his mouth. If she hadn't seen the dragon, she wouldn't have believed him.
"A dragon? Please. Don't make up nonsense." The torturer scoffed. His brows furrowed as he thought it over. "Although, come to think of it, I did hear some odd noises coming from over there."
"Come with us. We need to get out of here." Hadvar implored. Alessandra knew that his heart was in the right place; there weren't a lot of people like that. The Imperials saved other people while the Stormcloaks were loyal only to their kinsmen. While she understood both sides, she had to be with the Legion.
"You have no authority over me, boy." The torturer sat down in a chair and glared at Hadvar. The Nord grit his teeth; he was becoming more impatient trying to help the old man.
"Didn't you here me?" His voice rose in anger. "I said the keep is under attack!" The torturer shrugged a shoulder. Hadvar gritted his teeth.
"Forget the old man." The assistant restored faith in Hadvar. "I'll come with you." Hadvar nodded at the Imperial.
"Wait a second. Looks like there's something in this cage." Hadvar pointed to a cage with a dead mage.
"Don't bother with that. Lost the key ages ago. Poor fellow screamed for weeks." The torturer waved a hand at Alessandra.
"See if you can get it open with some picks. We'll need everything we can get." Hadvar tossed her a few lockpicks and a sly grin creped on her mouth. This was something she could always do. Out of her family, she was the sneaky one. Alexander was the perfect warrior and Maitiú was the mage. The twins were a close second to a rogue type and Ross and Æton would've just had regular occupations like being blacksmith and a farmer perhaps. She had hoped for a challenge, but when she saw that it was a novice lock, she laughed aloud and the door swung open in a moment. The torturer openly stated at her.
"Jeez, that was easier that breaking into Aaron's house." She chuckled to herself.
"Sure, take all my things. Please." She picked up the gold and the Spell Tome.
"Please. They are his more than yours."
"Grab what you can and let's go." Hadvar insisted and the assistant shifted impatiently. Alessandra flipped through the tome and the book vanished in her hands. Instead, a purple energy came from her hands like little lightning strikes. She grinned; she had no idea it was so easy learning magic. She would have to thank her brother when she got back home.
"There's no way out that way, you know..." The torturer mumbled as they left. They came to a blown up wall, which led to a cave.
"I'm glad to be out of that place. I hope this leads somewhere." Hadvar spoke to himself and she silently agreed. She slowed as she heard Stormcloaks speaking.
"Where in Oblivion are we supposed to go? Where's the way out?"
"Just give me a minute. Let me think." Alessandra chuckled. He wouldn't have another minute to think. They busted out and fought the soldiers. She noticed an oil spill and she lit it on fire with a spell. The assistant had just started walking on top of it as she let the spell go. He groaned and fell down in flames. She grimaced; she hadn't meant to take his life. Hadvar ignored the flames and she took the bow and a few arrows from an archer.
"Alright, let's see if we can find a way out." Hadvar mutter. He rested his hand on a lever and she stood near him, bow out in case something problematic were to arise. While this bow held no power, she did love the way it felt in her hand. It was so familiar and lovely. "Let's see where this goes." The bridge lowered and together, they crossed it. The dragon roared from behind and immediately an arrow was released from in between Alessandra's fingers towards the ceiling. Hadvar wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her towards him as the rest of Helgen was buried.
"Damn it. No going back that way. I guess we're lucky that didn't come down on top of us. Since nobody is trying to kill me just now, maybe we should rest for a minute." Alessandra moved to sit away from him. She summoned healing magic once more and began to check her body. Thankfully all she had to do was pull out an arrow from her thigh, but the healing magic kept it from hurting. She rummaged in her bag and ate an apple. Hadvar panted as he leaned on his hands. Alessandra looked to her left to see cool water. She pulled off her boots. Hadvar had his eyes closed. She jumped off the short ledge and the cool water ran along her ankles and toes. She sighed in pleasure.
Alessandra turned around and filled the water skin. "Here." Hadvar called from above her and tossed her another water skin. She walked to the edge where the rocks were and dumped the old water out. She went back to the stream and filled the water skin.
"You ready to go?" He nodded and stood up. He stretched and his back cracked, echoing in the cave. They walked side-by-side following the water to a dead end
"Hmm. That doesn't go anywhere. I guess we'd better try this way." He pointed to their right where a path seemed to be. Alessandra nodded and let Hadvar take the lead once more. After a sharp turn to the left, the open area seemed to be full of spider webs. Alessandra frowned. How can spiders have so much silk? There was no way that these spiders could be ordinary. As if on cue, giant spiders fell from the ceiling and Alessandra had to hold in a shriek. She had never seen spiders this large in Cyrodiil. What other beasts did Skyrim have? They quickly dispatched the spiders and Alessandra had half a mind to take their venom. Hadvar grumbled something that sounded like, "what next, giant snakes?" She glanced at Hadvar, who was shifting from foot to foot towards the next area.
"I hate those damn things. Too many eyes, you know?" She nodded, with a slight chuckle and headed down with him. She crouched down and noticed a bear sleeping. She bit her lip and reached into a cart. There was a coin purse and she emptied her other coins into the larger bag.
"Hold up. There's a bear just ahead. See her?" Hadvar whispered and Alessandra nodded. "I'd rather not tangle with her right now. We might be able to sneak by. Just take it nice and slow, and watch where you step." Hadvar shifted beside her and she glanced back at him. He held out a bow and she declined. She did however take the quiver of arrows. "Or if you're feeling lucky, you can take this bow. Might take her by surprise." He took a step back. "Go ahead. I'll follow your lead and watch your back." She took a step forward. While she always loved archery, this bear did not deserve to die. There was no reason for it. She began to edge towards her left. The bear shifted and both Hadvar and Alessandra held their breaths. The bear settled back down. "Easy does it now." She exhaled and began to pray to the two Divines she had heard earlier
If I am to make it out of here in peace, allow this bear a restful sleep and a full life.
The bear slowly rose and Alessandra closed her eyes. She opened them after a moment to see the bear lay down once more and did not move. She quickly continued to move from the bear. Hadvar began to run towards the exit. "Whew. That was close." She grinned at him and began to run to keep up with him. They cave went a little ways forward before opening. "This looks like the way out! I was starting to wonder if we'd ever make it." But Alessandra didn't hear his words. Instead she thought of her family, her brothers, her father and her mother. She thought of freedom. She thought of how she could head back to Cyrodiil because this harsh land had no reason for another Imperial woman.
This will be my last time to see this wretched, freezing land. Alessandra thought. I'll go back to my mother and become a good wife to someone like Aaron. I won't want to go out on an adventure and see other countries. I will stay in the Imperial City and live my life like a good, noble woman. Alessandra thought as she stepped out of the cave.
Alas, Alessandra didn't know what the Divines and Daedric Lords had in store for her. She would stay in Skyrim for a long, long time.
Well then. I guess that's the chapter. I hope you guys enjoy. I know it's really long. I didn't know where to stop it, so I hope that works. I was going to have it stop in a different place, but then I was like, "nah, I'm too tired for this shit."
Also, my computer is set to British English and Microsoft Word is set to American English. But I just changed it, so I dunno. There still might be a few words I missed. Sorry about that.
Please do tell me what you think! Reviews only help people.