Unbroken
No one from the Skyrim romance mod yet, but let's continue with our adventure with our dhampire Breton Dovahkin shall we?
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE ELDER SCROLLS IV: SKYRIM!
Enjoy the story lovely dovahs! :3
Chapter One: Sovengarde Awaits
The feeling of my body rocking stirred me awake, as I slowly came to, I could feel my hands were bound by some rope and I wasn't alone.
I let out a small groan from the gods awful headache that was plaguing me as though I was in a drinking competition, and won not only a terrible hangover but my skull being crushed. Just try to gather what you can remember, and hopefully it will help put the pieces of why I'm here. As I wracked my brain my eyes snapped open when I realized something...I have no memories of my past or my own name! Oh gods I don't even know what race I am! It's like my mind is a blank slate! I sat up quickly, but regretted that as everything started to spin. Bad idea...should have sat up slowly.
"Hey, you. You're finally awake," a gruff male voice announced, snapping me out of my frantic thoughts. I looked over to where I heard the voice from to see a blonde haired Nord wearing a light blue soldier uniform. "You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there." He told me as he nodded his head towards the dark haired man in the rags. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked down at my hands to see they were tied indeed and I was in rags. Was that what I was doing? I'll have to take his word for it then.
"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 been halfway to Hammerfell!" He glanced over at me and gave me a pleading look. "You there... You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." He told me.
I scoffed at his comment and he stared at me in shock. "The only one here who shouldn't be on this damn cart that is heading to divines know where is me." I told him coldly. Well I hope I don't belong in this cart, unless there was a reason why I was trying to cross the border and it was something illegal. He glared at me and I returned the icy gaze.
"However, there is nothing to change that now. We're all brother and sisters in binds now, Horse Thief." The soldier jumped in, probably to stop an argument from forming. "Shut up back there!" An Imperial guard shouted at us. "If you wanted us to keep our mouths shut then you should have just gagged everyone!" I snapped at the guard. The blonde hair Nord snickered and shook his head.
The thief looked away and glanced over at the noble looking Nord man whom was sitting next to me with a gag around his mouth. He must be very dangerous if he is the only one with a gag, unless he was annoying the guards to no end and the resorted to shutting him up.
"What's wrong with him?" He asked. "Watch your tongue! You are speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!" The blonde hair Nord snapped.
I cocked my head to the side and looked at the man next to me puzzled. Why do I feel like that statement was wrong? "Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm?You're the leader of the rebellion. If they captured you? Oh gods, where are they taking us?" The thief panicked. "I don't know where we're going, but Sovengarde awaits." The Stormcloak soldier stated solemnly. "Wait no trial?!" I squeaked. The blonde hair Nord shook his head. "I demand a fair trial!" I snapped over at the soldier driving the carriage. "On more word out of you and I'll silence you for good, you especially, Half Elf!" He hissed. I felt my blood boil when I realized whom he was referring to since quiet clearly I'm in a cart filled with Nords and an Imperial driver. "Well at least I don't look like my mother was a troll." I grumbled under my breath, well I hope I do. Clearly whomever I was before, at least my wit is still in tact. "No! This can't be happening. This isn't happening!" The thief panicked. "Hey...what village are you from horse thief?" The Nord asked, hopefully to distract the poor man from the realization he made. "Why do you care?" The thief asked, his voice still filled with hysteria. "A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." He answered as though it was obvious. We were not far from the gates of a village approaching, and judging by the large amount of guards, I'll assume this is where the plan to let our heads roll.
The thief looked down, probably accepting his fate. "Rorikstead, I'm...I'm from Rorikstead." He stuttered. "Well, Horse Thief of Rorikstead, may whatever divine you believe in preserve you." I told him. He looked over at me and nodded.
"General Tullius sir, the headsman is waiting." An Imperial guard called. "Good. Let's get this over with!" The man I assume is General Tullius called. I felt fear flood through me as we passed through the gates of the village and my eyes landed on a Altmer speaking with an Imperial man dressed in what generals of the Imperial army probably wear that I can only assume is this General Tullius and a dark hooded figure standing next to the general. Something about the figure seemed almost familiar to me, as though I've known them.
"Azura, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh, Divines please help me!" The horse thief prayed. "Look at him! 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!" The Stormcloak soldier said spitefully. "Ah, this is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here." The soldier said thoughtfully, clearly remembering his times as a young lad before he dies.
I glanced over at a house with a little boy staring at us curiously and his parents trying to usher him inside. "Who are they, Daddy, where are they going?" He asked. "You need to go inside." His father urged.
"Why? I wanna watch the soldiers!"
"Inside the house." The young lad's father stated firmly. The child sat up reluctantly and headed to the front door. "Yes, Papa." He sighed heavily.
"Whoa!"
"Get these prisoners out of the carts!" The Imperial woman ordered. What does the executioner get payed by the hour and not by the head, and here I thought it was his lucky day. "Why are we stopping?!" The thief panicked. "Why do you think? End of the line," he looked over at me and smiled reassuringly, "let's go. We shouldn't keep the gods waiting on us." He said half halfheartedly. I nodded woodenly and rose to my feet while my heart sank.
I didn't want to die, but there was no way I could escape this situation unless by a pure stroke of luck. Ignoring the blubbering and fearful thief was impossible as he continued to plead for his life. If the Divines have any ounce of sympathy for me...please just silence this man because he's giving me another headache!
"Step toward the block when we call your name one at a time!" The captain ordered. "Empire loves their damn lists!" The Nord grumbled under his breath. "Ulfric Stormcloak Jarl of Windhelm!" An imperial soldier called. Ulfric Stormcloak stepped to the block where some of his fellow soldiers were waiting for their demise. I noticed the dark hooded figure weaving his way through the villagers and my eyebrows furrowed as I studied the Breton man with dark auburn hair and matching red eyes. Why do I feel like I know this man, and it's not on good terms?
"It has been an honor Jarl Ulfric." The Nord muttered solemnly.
"Ralof of Riverwood." The imperial called. The blonde hair Nord stepped up to join his fellow shield-brothers and sisters.
"Lokir of Rorikstead."
"No! I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!" The thief shouted and shoved passed everyone, trying to run for his life. "Coward." I grumbled as the Imperial captain tried to stop Lokir. "Archers!" She called. I flinched at how fast the archers responded and shot Lokir when he was just near the gate. I knew I was hoping the Divines would silence the man, but I was meaning like that. "Anyone else feels like running?!" The captain demanded as she looked at me sternly. I shook my head quickly and backed up into the cart. "N-No ma'am." I stuttered.
She nodded for the soldier to continue and he cleared his throat. He scanned through his list and looked at me puzzled. "Wait. You there, step forward." The soldier called to me. I shuffled over to him and looked at him curiously. "Who are you?" He asked. I racked my brain as I tried to figure out what my name was. Oh gods, I didn't think about trying to do this earlier just in case this might get me out of this mess. "Breton, I asked for your name." He reminded me. "I-I know...it's just...I have no memory of who I am or how I even got here." I confessed. Maybe they'll let me go because I have memory loss? The soldier looked at his captain unsure. "Captain, should we do?" He asked the captain. "Forget it! She goes to the block!" The captain snapped. I noticed the Breton man looking very frustrated about something, and he disappeared into the crowd.
"Bye your orders, Captain." He told her and looked back at me with a sincere apologetic look. "I'm sorry. We'll send your remains to High Rock. Follow the Captain prisoner." He instructed. I nodded woodenly and followed the blood thirsty captain to join my fellow brother and sisters in bounds. General Tullius walked over to Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak. "Ulfric Stormcloak, some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the voice to murder his king and usurp his throne." He told him. Ulfric let out a few muffled grunts. The voice? What in oblivion is this general going on about? Did Ulfric yell at their king to death?
"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos and now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace." General Tullius continued.
There was a sudden loud roar somewhere near that did not sound like any animal I know.
"What was that?"
"It's nothing, carry on!" General Tullius ordered. "Yes, General Tullius," the captain looked over at a Priestess-and if I do have this right then I'm really going to wonder what in gods name is this kind of memory loss-of Arkay,"give them their last rites." She ordered.
"As we commend your souls to Aetherius blessing of the eight Divines upon you."
Eight? That doesn't sound right? Why is there Eight? I feel like I need to correct this priestess that she said that wrong and that there were Nine, but why? I clearly can't seem to recall current events going around me, who I am, and for a while I had no idea I was a Breton!
I could have been a Khajit for all I know!
"Nirn our beloved-" "For the love of Talos shut up and let's get this over with!" A Stormcloak soldier interrupted as he stepped up to the block. Ah! That's right, she forgot to include Talos! The priestess looked at him in utter disbelief then shook her head. "As you wish." She said acidly, clearly unhappy for the interruption.
There is so much going on and I have so many questions, but I'm not going to get my answers since I'm about to get a height reduction from the Imperial headsman!
The Stormcloak soldier knelt in front of the block and the imperial captain whom is thirsty for blood pushed him forward with her foot. "Come on! I haven't got all morning! My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials, can you say the same?" He asked. I looked away quickly the second the executioner raised his ax.
"You imperial bastards!" A female Stormcloak soldier shouted.
A few onlookers cheered and I felt a twinge of disgust. Were they seriously celebrating watching their fellow Nord have his head chopped off for fighting for what he believed was right in his heart?
"As fearless in death as he was in life." The blonde hair Nord whom apparently is named Ralof said solemnly. I felt my heart go out towards all of these soldiers who were standing here, being forced to watch their shield brothers and sisters be executed before them. They clearly have grown close during their time in combat and to watch them die must be heartbreaking.
"Next! The Breton!" The Imperial Captain called, pointing towards me. I felt my heart stopped and I my breath was hitched in my throat. The load roar we heard earlier echoed through the mountains, sounding closer this time, however. Hopefully, whatever is making that noise will save me from death. "There it is again! Did you hear that?!" The imperial soldier whom has read off the list asked.
"I said, next prisoner!" She barked.
I shuffled over to the block and looked at the imperial soldier with dark brown hair with a pleading look. "To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy." He told me while giving me an apologetic look. I squared my shoulders and held my head high as I felt my knees hit the cold floor. "Was that nice and easy for you?" I hissed at him I rested my head on the chopping block.
Well this has been a joyous hour of my life.
I watched as the headsman aim his ax for my neck and made sure he had a good grip and my eyes widen in shock to see a giant black winged beast fly to the keep. "What in Oblivion is that?!" General Tullius asked in disbelief. "Sentries, what do you see?" The captain demanded. "It's in the clouds!" A male voice shouted.
I watched as it landed on the keep, staring down at me with hungry eyes as the executioner raised his ax. "Hey, behind you!" I shouted at him. He paused and looked over his shoulder. "A DRAGON!" A woman shouted. The dragon took a deep breath and said something in his dragon tongue. The sky became dark and fire and brimstone started to fall from the sky.