Hey there! This story is alive and kickin' again after nearly five entire months! Thats a whole lot, I know, big shame on me. I took a good time off of this fic and used it for the good, re-imagining storylines and plots, and how to wrap everything up so that it works out ~hopefully~ the best at the end. The characters are still very raw and hardly fleshed out, so please excuse my bad start. I still have to figure out alot, and I am confident this fic won't hit many quality standarts, yet I dearly hope you'll enjoy what you will see here. And I'll do my best to update this work at least twice a month. Thanks to everyone who had read this far into the story already! Let me know what you think of it, a good critique never fails to make me happy. That said, let's get started!
Disclaimer! I do not own anything besides the plot and OC's. Skyrim and the Elder Scrolls franchise fully belongs to the Bethesda Game Studios. This is a fan-written, non-profit story for other fans to enjoy.
Blood on my name
summary: The City of Kings is torn between pogroms agains the nords hatred and an entire war emerging from inside it's very walls. When the onerous life of a simple hardworking Nord changes rapidly as he is forced to hospitalize a noble from Morrorwind, a Dragonborn finds her way into the hold, slowly submitting to become the dragon she always locked away inside. When times are the hardest, troubled souls find each other in this rumbling lands.
follows few main events of the game
Original characters/Dragon!Dragonborn
Chapter 3
By the time I had left the palace it was heavily snowing outside. The icy cold snowflakes hitting my face had felt like little needles pierching my skin, but the fury that was raging within me made my body numb. After the adrenaline faded in my veins and my mind realising what just happend, I noticed the guards who where steadily following my steps. It seemed like the palace made sure I wouldn't come back any time soon. Slowing down I passed through the arches marking the entrance of the palace court, sadness and frustration now taking the place of anger inside my flesh. In this moment I had hoped that I would hear breaking furniture inside the palace walls, that perhaps my father ended what I had started merely minutes ago. But nothing happend, no sound ripped through the air, and I realised I was alone. The guards who had an eye on me retrieved behind the pillars once I reached the backyard of the Candlehearth hall, confident they completed their task, and I soon felt like there was no point in acting up. A heavy sight escaped my lips, and with heavy feet I made my way to the city gates.
Telling by the darkening sky it would soon be night, and now crossing the street that leads up to the grey district I was again reminded on how teriibly wrong this day turned out to be. In the short time span of only one afternoon an entire life was ruined and it felt like it was my fault. I absently stared into the opening of the alley, stopping in my tracks. I took the time to gather my thoughts, tracing my actions back that had lead me into this part of the city earlier today. What was I doing there in the first place? Maybe I shouldn't have been there, but why does it matter? Because of my actions my fathers reputation shattered in front of Galmars eyes, his honour being questioned because of me. Because of my actions, Revyn spends the night in chains.
„Vigge! S'about time your ass appears in my doorframe!", „Leave me alone Kjeld, now's not the moment" Completly ignoring the man behind the door I stepped inside the inn, tugging off my fur coat and throwing it on one of the nearest benches. The nord was once again wearing his used clothes, stained from sweat and dirt, and with an expression on his face that could easily resemble an angry snake, he followed me in my shadow. „Quit it, it's never your moment! You know your payment is once again late, and it's the third moon I needed to remi-", „For Talos sake shut up Kjeld!" My short temper surpised even me, and I stood face to face with the brown haired miner. Kjeld the Younger lived up to a huge pain in the ass in the last few days, and I was terribly unlucky to catch him on the way to my room. I tended to visit and leave the Braidwood Inn solemny at the hours where the sun isn't up in the sky, but it seems like Kjelds shift in the Steamscorch Mine ended sooner than I had hoped. Kjeld gave me an angry stare directly into my face, but I knew even if he acted up like he was about to break my nose, there wouldn't be much more behind it than hot air. „This is the last time, my patience is used up, Vigge, do you hear me? It's gone!" I gave him an 54patheticly annoyed stare, but he just opened his mouth again. „My pa runs this town, and you're going to be in big trouble if you mess with me, so you better pay your rent by tommorrow!". I puffed at that, and turning my back to the son of the man who runs this settlement and I grabbed the nearest tankard on the table. Kjeld just snorted and shook his head, and he was clever enough to turn around and leave the house and into the snow outside.
I let out a tired sight and ran my free hand over the stubble on my face. Even without a mirror I could tell that I probably look like a mess, and the inkeeper seems to agree with that. Iddra behind the bar was the only one witnessing my little stand-off with her son, and alike events weren't a rare occurence in the last few weeks. „I can't look away forever, you know" She greeted me, a troubled look on her face. I was aware of the countless unpaid drinks on her head, and it should've been clear to me that this shouldn't be something commonly happening, but in this moment it didn't matter. I didn't answer, neither I looked at her, but I stopped in front of my rented room. „You aren't supposed to suffer under Kjelds nature, but my boy has a point, Vigrold, and I don't know how much longer I can take it. Business's been bad in the last weeks,..", „I'll manage" I sharply responded, and with that I entered my room, taking the mead with me and closing the door tightly shut behind me. Once inside I let myself fall onto the bed, the feet of the wooden interior cranking on the stone floor. „Crap", I muttered under my breath, and I placed my tankard on the floor.
The hours of night passed by fast, and sleep didn't mind to pay me a visit even after daunting long hours of staring at the dusty wooden ceiling. I shortly decided to sit up and my back immediately responded with an aching pain. The wooden bed was getting to me, and no matter how many hides I spread on it, it just didn't seem to be much more forgiving to my spine. Resting my elbows on my knees I ran the palms of my hands over my face. Everything inside me screamed for sleep, but I couldn't stop the thoughts that were crossing my mind. It wasn't somehing new, I felt a little troubled since the day I rented this peticular room, but day after day of Kjeld the Younger chasing me down to persue me into paying my previous rents, it was messing with me. I fumbled my bedhead hair into a somewhat more acceptable form, tying it into a messy knot with the leatherstrip I had grabbed from the table next to me. The small room was dimly lit by the early sun, the wooden furniture dipped in a soft blue shade. I won't sleep any time soon, that much I knew, better make the best out of it. And by getting up and tugging on a decent thick fur cloak over my regular winter tunic, I decided to make the first move towards paying off my rent since the last two weeks. I was by no means glad about the outcome of the events happening in my past that brought me into this fairly small room. Ten septims a day to live within four walls of dust, no decoration, and my only possession; a copy of Kolb and the Dragon, a wooden chest filled with clothing and an empty table with a single melting candle on it. This was no long time solution, and I was sick of counting the splinters in the ceiling day, by day, by day.
So I grabbed Kjelds Bow from the room opposite to the dining hall and went huntin'.
It was still terribly cold, despite the melting patches of snow which revealed colourful tundra fauna, revived by the first rays of warm sunshine. The end of summer drew closer with every moon passed, and with every day longer than it's previous, the short period of the year in which Windhelms ice melts arrived. A short time span where nature allows the fields of Eastmarch to breath and blossom with live, before the deadly cold of the winter snaps its jaws tight again. A sharply icy wind hitting me in the face reminded me on how unforgiving the plains in front of Windhelms walls can be, yet they behold a beauty that never missed to leave me in awe. I tugged the fur around my neck further up to cover my lower face, and I started to get my arrow into position. The fields in front of me displayed a god-like view towards the Sea of Ghosts, and the rare patches of grass appeared to me like summer himself bled between the snow. Strong colours with the shades of gold and red blossomed between the blank white covers, a sharp contrast for the deeply green fir trees that sprout all over the fields. A white cloud of steam escaped my mouth as I tried to steady my breath. Looking for potential prey I calmed my body, inhaled a deep breath and kneeled down on the yet still frozen ground. I tried to cover my body as best as I could in the shrubs of the tundra surrounding me, forcing my mind to recall every single lession my dad had taught me when we were out hunting together. Those memories were older than a decade but I could never forget them, it almost feeled like they were carved into my deepest instincs.
I slowly made my way down the hill, focused on any moving body appearing in my range of vision, passing firs and stones on the passage down, and shamingly almost slipping on wet snow. Nearly one hour had passed when I first layed eyes on the small herd of reindeers trotting their way in to the plane. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest and for the first time in a long run I felt excitement built up in my veins. Yes, that could be it! Focusefocusefocuse repeated itself over and over inside my head like a mantra, and I lifted my good arm to tense the bowstring. I could hear the reindeers bloating from the fairly long distance when the wind was carrying their sounds over the fields in front of Windhelms outskirts. If I hadn't hurried up I could have fell in danger of the wind turning on me and giving out my position to my prey. Again I sucked in a deep breath, aiming at the animal of my choice with its shoulder presented to me perfectly. I was so very confident that I would hit his heart in no time, gifting him a short travel to hircines realm. But things turned out differrent when a wet piece of snow slipped beneath my feet, sending one of my legs sliding down the slope abruptly enough to trigger my hand on the bow. The arrow went flying instantly and hurled above the short shrubs of the groundcovers, blindly aiming at the reindeers who didn't see the unpredicted danger coming. Out of surprise I had closed my eyes, but right after I flew my eyes open again I saw the tip of my arrow smack into the neck of the animal, thick winter fur starting to soak with deep red blood as it ran down in streams before the poor thing could even react. Spooked like they saw an actual daedra appear in front of them, the other reindeers tensed up in shear panik and bursted away from the injured one of their kin, making jagged trails in the patches of snow while the one marked for death tried to limp after them, filling their hoove prints with a chrimson red pool. It could barely coordinate it's limps which were twitching with a mind of their own, caused by the stinging pain of its throat being ripped open with an arrow. The wood of the stick bounced on the side of the reindeer, visibly tugging on its trachea, causing his lungs to fill with blood in a teriffic pace, his nose and mouth already saturated with the liquid. I lunged out of my cover and jolted downwards towards the end of the slope where it fought to breath. When I closed up on the dying animal it had already collabsed to its knees, making gruely wet slurping noises while breathing. With a fast stroke I detached the weapon from its neck, a stream of blood following the removed object. The poor thing. With the arrow still in my right hand I grabbed both of its andlers, pushing it on its belly. The weak animal had no fight left in him, and even barely so a much longer remaining source of life. It fell down completly, and with an impactful jerk I twisted its head, breaking the spinal cord in an instant. The sloppy breathing came to a complete halt, and I took my time to process the unlucky accident which caused the animal more pain than supposed.
I lowered myself on one knee and pulled out my hunter knife, tracing the shaggy soft fur on the reindeers back. Even if my hunt didn't end like I had planned out, I still slayed an impressive prey. A lot of coin could be made out of the meat and hide of the fresh carcass in front of me. I took a swift look on the arrow that killed the stag, still resting in my palm, the wooden shaft slightly shattered from the impact were it had met flesh, the black feathers on the end of it stained red. Black...black feathers? Since when did Kjold use black feathered arrows? I reached behind my back where I had slinged the quiver over my shoulder. My hand pulled out an arrow out of it and brought it right next to my right hand. My other arm was holding an arrow with white goose feathers, like I was used to see, but the other one was pitch black and appeared to be made of ebony. What in Talos's name? Only then I recognized a familiar arrow stuck in the dirt only a few feet in front of me, the end of it prepaired with white feathers, a missile which completly missed its target. Missed,..I had missed. I jerked my head around looking for other people close to me.
But too late, a sharp pain suddenly appeared on the back of my head where someone had placed a good hit on me. I fell over the corpse of the reindeer, stumpling over its belly and landing in the small puddle of blood behind it. The only thing I had felt for solid amounts of seconds was a shreaking throb at the backside of my head, my eyesight blurry and my fingertips numb. When I came back to I felt a sticky sensation on my eyelashes. Blood. Uncertain wether it had belonged to me or the dead stag I smeared it away with the back of my hand. Suddenly Adrenaline filled me, and so much like the Reindeers only minutes ago I jumped up on my feet in panic and attempted a jolty escape, but soon tripping in the dirt and falling back on my back. My head still pounded awfully, but at the corner of my eye I could see the shadow of a bear of a man looming in on me, and that was causing enough ambition from my side to grab on tight on my hunter knife. I crawled away from the feet that were slowly following me, alertingly armoured in heavy steel boots. It was hard for me to get a good look on my opponents face, vision still blurry and the sun standing high in the sky, but he looked daunting, armour outlining his silhouette and a warhammer resting in his fist."I-if it's about the deer, you can have it" I spat at him, still anxiously crawling away from him. The man roared at that, and he came close enough to me so that his body was blocking the sunrays off my face. In this moment I saw the most upsetting look of joyful fury on his face, his skin weathered and dirty as he lunged at me with his feet hitting me harrowingly painfull on the knee. He left me squirming in the grass in pain, clutching my leg as if a stone shattered it in pieces. The fear racing through my limbs helped me collect myself soon enough to see a second person emerge from behind a small row of trees, a bow in his hands and equipped with familiar ebony arrows. „M' sorry champ, I wasn't intending to miss you that badly, even for mah standards. Ya' head would've been much more pleasing on'ma arrow 'nstead of the poor thing'ere." He gruffed, covered in used leather armor much like his friends. Enpowered by the trap I found myself in, the only thing that came to my mind was to spit fire at them, crawl and bite my way out of this place as fast as possible. „Eat Shit, bandit!" I spat at him, struggling to get back up to my feet. Beastial laughter ringed in my ears.