The Province of Skyrim
201 Fourth Era
With a pounding head, the sound of horse footsteps not helping, the female blinked awake. With a groan, she moved to raise her hand to her head, confused when she couldn't move her hands. Taking in her surroundings, she noticed that her hands were bound with rope, explaining the itchy feeling it was giving off. The second thing is that she was on a cart that was winding down a cobblestone road.
The last thing she remembered was trying to cross into Skyrim, on the search for her remaining family when everything went black.
"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 looked up at the man. Long blond hair slightly pulled up, the blue of his attire marking him as a Stormcloak. His face was grim, lips drawn into a thin line.
"I was trying to cross to find my parents. Haven't seen them since I was a child. Thought Skyrim would be the first place they would go." The female shrugged lightly.
"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. The Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell. You there... You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." Another man spoke, anger clear on his face. War paint decorated his face, and his hair was messy.
"I am Ralof, of Riverwood." The first man spoke.
"Hela, Hela Thorisdottir." She said, glancing at him.
Ralof turned to the man beside him, "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."
Of course, by now their chatting had gotten the attention of the guards that were driving the cart. "Shut up back there!" They called out. Hela had to stifle a laugh. Looking at the three others in the cart, she was the only female. Huh.
A man, gagged and hand bound like the others, was dressed in finer clothes than anyone else. Who was he?
"What's up with him?" The man beside Ralof asked, confusion in his voice.
"Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King of Skyrim." The black haired woman's eyes widened marginally. That's how she knew him. Even back home in Cyrodiil they had heard of him. If Ulfric was there, they were fucked. Truly and utterly fucked. Blowing out a breath, she tried to loosen her bounded wrist a bit more and with some luck, she was able to almost slip a hand out. Apparently whoever tied her wrists, didn't do such a good job of it.
The road turned and in the distance she could see a large gate open, showing the town inside the walls.
"Where are we going?"
"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." Ralof's voice was grim. It was like he had already accepted his fate.
" No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening." The man was panicking, that much she could tell.
"Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?" Ralof asked, tone softening ever so slightly. Hela could see what kind of person he was.
"Why do you care?" The man bit back.
"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."
"Rorikstead. I'm...I'm from Rorikstead. And my name's Lokir." Lokir spoke, nodding at Hela. "What about yourself? Said you were crossing the border, so what town did you come from?"
"Cheydinhal. I'm from Cheydinhal." She spoke, voice wavering slightly.
"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. 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." Ralof said, and Hela found herself nodding with him.
"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!" A woman called to the man in front of her. They were dressed in Imperial clothing.
"Good," the man spoke, "Let's get this over with."
"By the nines, please protect me." She murmured under her breath. She loosen the binds on her wrist ever so slightly, prepared to flight at any moment if needed.
The cart turned again, and they entered the town and she could see the town sign, declaring it as Helgan. The cart parks next to two other ones. A father was leading his young son back into the house she noticed as she took next to Ralof. Her mind was moving a million miles a minute.
She could hear Lokir speaking, voice frantic.
"Why are they stopping?"
Ralof spoke, " Why do you think? End of the line. Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us."
Lokir went on, and she could tell he was going to do something so stupid. " No! Wait! We're not rebels!"
"Face your death with some courage, thief." She spoke with a sneer, glaring at the man out of the corner of her eye.
One by one they were forced out of the cart and forced into lines.
"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!" She was close to punching him.
"Step toward the block when we call your name. One at a time!" The Imperial Captain spoke, in his hands was a clipboard.
"The Empire loves their damn lists." She heard Ralof mutter, and she let out a laugh at that, catching the eyes of the guards around her.
"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm." the one holding the clipboard called out.
"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric." Ralof called out to the man as he passed.
Next, Ralof of Riverwood. Lokir of Rorikstead." Ralof patted her on the back softly, and she tried to smile but it came out grim.
"No, I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" Lokir spoke, and then he did something stupid. He ran. He fucking ran.
"Halt!" The female captain called, hoping that it would make him stop.
It didn't. Not a chance apparently.
"You're not going to kill me!" Lokir called as he ran towards the gate on the far side of the town.
"Archers!" She called, voice full of command.
Within a second, an arrow pierced his back and Hela watched in horror as the man fell to the ground, dead.
"Anyone else feel like running?"
" Wait, you there. Step forward. Who are you?" The man turned to Hela, a look on his face. The Nord stepped forward slightly.
"Hela, of Cheydinhal." She spoke, willing her voice to not come out as weak. She stood tall, around five foot eight, slim and firm. Blue eyes burned into the man in front of her, black hair that was down to her shoulders was a mess. She was sure to have dirt on her if she had time to look.
She didn't have the time.
Something black caught the corner of her eye, but she shook it off. It was probably nothing.
Right?
"You picked a bad time to come back to Skyrim, kinswoman"
She wasn't going to bother to correct him.
She wasn't a native of Skyrim. Hela was the product of two Nords that moved to Cyrodiil and had her when they were around twenty. Her parents had been a part of the group, the name she couldn't tell you of. They were on a mission together, their first one, when they were killed during it. That was when she was sixteen. Her birthday had just passed a week earlier, so now she was twenty-two.
Twenty-two and she was going to die.
Great.
"Captain, what should we do? She's not on the list." He spoke, glancing at his commander.
"Forget the list. She also goes to the block."
" By your orders, captain.I'm sorry. At least you'll die here, in your homeland." His tone was soft, and regret was noted. She was moved next to Ulfric, who had a deep frown on his face.
"I'm sorry that we're about to die." She spoke, a sigh escaping her lips. He gave her a tight nod.
"Perhaps in another life we would have been good friends."
'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." General Tullius said as he made his way near the block. Disgust clear on his face.
All he got was a grunt from the Jarl.
Tullius went on, a smile growing on his face as he spoke. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace."
Hela sneered at him.
From above, in the far distance came a weird noise, almost like something was screeching.
What was it?
"What was that?" The one with the clipboard spoke. Everyone looked up to the sky, trying to pinpoint where the noise came from.
"It's nothing. We carry on."
"Yes, General Tullius. Give them their last rites." Hela started to zone out slightly.
A priestess, Hela, noted by her clothes, stepped forward. As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved.." She was cut off by one of the prisoners walking forward.
"For the love of Talos, shut up and lets get this over with."
"As you wish…" The priestess trailed off, moving back over to the side.
"Come on, I haven't got all morning. My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" He spoke, before he was forced onto the block of wood. The blade sliced his head off cleanly. Hela found herself flinching, not used to seeing death this close up.
She ignored the cheers that came from the people watching.
Teeth sunk into her bottom lip.
Would she be next?
How would it feel to die?
Would it be fast?
She would see her parents again.
"Next, the Nord in the rags!" Was called. It took her a second to realize that they meant her.
Another cry, more so a roar was heard.
It was closer.
So much closer.
"There it is again. Did you hear that?" The man cried out, neck craning towards the skies to see what was causing the noise.
"I said, next prisoner!" The captain barked out.
"To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy." The man's hand went to the back of her neck to guide her to the block. Her nose scrunched in disgust. She was forced to her knees and her neck onto the block, blood still fresh on it. Her head was forced to the side.
This is how it would end.
If not for the big black creature that swooped down from the clouds.
She could hear people, and could only watch in horror as a dragon, who was supposed to be fake. They were a fairy tale, ones told to her by her parents when she was younger. The dragon, large, black and angry, landed on top of the tower in front of her.
"Dragon!" Someone yelled out.
With a shout, and she could almost know what it said, the dragon made the skies cloud over and rocks, flaming rocks that started to fall.
"Don't just stand there, kill that thing! Guards, get the townspeople to safety!" Tullius called out.
She was pulled to her feet, and it took a second to get her footing.
"Hey, you! Get up! Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!" Ralof spoke as he grabbed her hand in his. They were quick, weaving in and out of others and they stopped when they made it to the tower, shutting the door behind themselves. Her breath came out in short pants, as she rested her hands on her knees.
"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?" Ralof spoke.
"Legends don't burn down villages. We need to move, now!" His voice came out strong, and she could hear the leadership within it.
"We can go up through the tower. Let's go! This way, friend! Move!" He once more grabbed her hand within his.
A Stormcloak soldier spoke up, "We just need to move some of these rocks to clear the way!"
Just then as they were climbing the stairs, a shout, and the rocks were blasted from besides them, fire blocking their way.
The Dragon.
The dragon was breathing fire.
Great.
"See the inn on the other side?" Ralof pointed to it. " Jump through the roof and keep going! Go! We'll follow you when we can!" She nodded and took a deep breath and jumped.
It was higher than it looked, luckily she was able to roll out of it. Though her knees and hands took the blunt force, nothing seemed to be broken. She made the way out of the half burning inn, and saw a group of people. The man with the clipboard from earlier was there. Something told her to ignore him.
Where was Ralof?
With a grin on his face the man noticed her.
"Haming, you need to get over here now! Thataboy. You're doing great! Torolf! Gods...everyone get back!"
Another blast of fire had her bending out of its reach, warmth on her back.
"Still alive, prisoner?" he let out a laugh. " 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 spoke to the man beside him.
"Gods guide you, Hadvar." The man spoke before running off.
Well that answers her question of what his name was.
"Stay close to the wall!" He turned to her, as they started to creep alongside the wall of a building. The dragon landed on top of the roof and shouted again. Fire came from him.
"Quickly, follow me!" He shouted over the noise that was slowly starting to build. Hela took in the sight quickly. Buildings were toppled and burning, dead littered the street and she watched the dragon eat one. A shudder went through her. As they reached the main gate, she could see archers firing arrows in vain.
They wouldn't do much.
Her own hands itched to get one of her own.
She spotted Tullius coming towards them.
"Hadvar! Into the keep, soldier, we're leaving!"
"It's you and me, prisoner, stay close!" Was called out to her.
As they neared the Keep, she could see Ralof. Finally!
"Ralof! You damned traitor, out of my way!" He sneered at the man.
"We're escaping, Hadvar! You're not stopping us this time."
"Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde." Hadvar spoke, as he ran the direction from which they just came.
"Come on! Into the keep!"
Taking the man's hand, she didn't think twice before she entered the Keep with him.