Skyrim was a cold, wet, dark and miserable place, and anybody that claimed otherwise was either a madman or a Nord, which was basically the same thing.

Oh, there were many reasons for that. The weather, the distaste of mages, the undead wandering willy-nilly all over, the presence of the Thalmor. The list could go on, really.

Another, particularly big, reason was that she was sitting in the back of a carriage, bound and gagged and off to an execution. Hers.

"Where are you from, horse-thief." She'd been trying her best to ignore her fellow prisoners squabbling.

"Rorikstead. Why?"

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." She couldn't help but snort. How poetic.

"And you, elf? Summerset Isle, or somewhere else?" She shot the blonde lummox a flat look with a raised eyebrow. "Right."

They came to a stop.

Their final destination was apparently called Helgen. It was a small village on the south of Skyrim, covered in snow (because of course it was). They were lead down from their carriage in front of a Nord in leather armor with a list and a Redguard dressed in steel.

"Lokir of Rorikstead." The leather-clad soldier called.

"No, you can't do this. I'm not a rebel." The horse-thief stepped up, almost crying. She could see it coming a mile away.

Don't run you idiot.

"I'm not letting you kill me, Empire."

Of course he ran.

"Archers!" They made quick work of him. "Next, the elf in the rags."

"Captain, she's not on the list." The woman ignored him and motioned for her to walk up. "What's your name, Altmer."

She sighed, her black hair (uncommon for an Altmer as it was) falling over her green eyes. She raised her hands to the gag in her mouth, intending to remove it. But she stopped half-way.

Behind the two, sitting on a horse in the back, was another Altmer. A tall, blonde one dressed in regular Thalmor robes with a dagger on her side. Currently, she was taking to the general in charge of the Imperial forces in Skyrim. She knew that elf. It was Elenwen Ateldil, First Emissary of Skyrim.

So she remained quiet and glared at her captors.

"I see. I'll make sure your remains are sent to the Summerset Isle." She was almost tempted to remove the gag and let out the most sarcastic 'thank you' of her life, even if Elenwen recognized her.

And then, just as she laid her head on a bloody rock and debated whether or not to yell out to Elenwen just before the axe fell down, something happened.

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"Quickly now, this way."

The ruin that the black beast wrought was terrible. In an instant, the quiet village which was to be their execution ground was turned to ash and cinder. The people, both villagers and prisoners, were running around in a desperate bid for survival. The large dragon, for what else could it have been, was bringing fire and ruin indiscriminately to the area.

'No.' Alanwyn thought to herself as she ran towards a tower that was miraculously still standing. 'It almost seems like it's… searching for something? Lovely, a dragon on a mission.'

"Hurry it up." She ran, as best she could, reaching the shelter just in time to dodge a stream of fire. "What was that, Jarl Ulfric?" The blond Nord that was with her in the carriage spoke. Alanwyn found herself with many Stormcloaks. Fortunately, they were too distracted by the dragon outside to pay much attention to the elf in the rags. She used the momentary distraction to move up, not keen to spend any time among people that despised her.

Just as she'd gotten to the floor above the dragon burst through the wall, incinerating the poor fool that was on the inside. Alanwyn wasn't sure if her mind was playing tricks on her, but she could almost make out words the dragon spoke before the fire. They were almost familiar.

The black beast flew away quickly after that, giving the elf just enough time to leap from the hole it had made. She landed with a huff on the top floor of what could've been an inn. Ignoring the stinging in her side, she made her way quickly down and then out. There were a few people there, along with one member of the Legion.

'Lovely.' She sighed to herself. The Legionnaire was holding a small child, a boy no more than ten years old that was struggling to make his way to a man that was currently on fire. The Legionnaire managed to yank the boy back in time, just dodging another stream of fire.

"Take him." He handed the boy to another man. "Keep him safe. You there, prisoner!" He called out to Alanwyn. She spared him a glance. "It's time to leave, so thank whatever Divine you favor, if you think it wise. You've just gotten a stay of execution." By now most of the people had managed to disperse. "Come, we can make our way through the keep and into the old tunnels." She gave him a flat stare, but shrugged.

'It's not like I have much choice in the matter.'

They hurried through the streets and alleys, keeping to the side and out of the dragon's way as much as they could. By some stroke of luck or Divine interference they managed to avoid the winged terror. The dragon's patterns had changed slowly, eliminating areas of the village one after the other, until only one remained.

'It's almost like it's targeting us.' She thought to herself, ducking behind a wall to avoid another stream of fire. 'Targeting me.' She paused for a moment, but shook the idea off. It wouldn't do her any good now.

Focusing as much as she could on the current problem, the duo managed to reach the keep. The Legionnaire led her to the second door, motioning for her to follow. Just as they reached it, the blond Noord from before ran up to them.

"Ralof!" Her escort yelled out.

"We're leaving, Hadvar. And you can't stop us." The two Nords glared at each other for a few moments.

'Honestly?' Alanwyn sighed to herself. 'Not the time, gents.'

"Fine!" The Legionnaire finally spat out a moment later. "I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!"

The two turned to her as they finished their little spat. 'Are they honestly expecting me to choose between two parties that want me dead?' She shrugged at them both and walked to the farther door.

"Fine. Your choice, elf." Ralof eyed her, but turned towards his door.

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Alright, finally done. My very first Elder Scrolls fanfiction. I'm a big Skyrim fan.

I'm not entirely sure why my elf is British, but it kind of works, I think?