The first thing I registered was a splitting headache when I returned to consciousness, and I groaned deeply at the pain. "Bishop, do you-"

"Hey, you. You're finally awake." That's not Bishop's voice. Panicked, my eyes shot open, and the striking light only worsened my headache. "Were you trying to scout for us?"

"Scout for you?" I groaned, trying to get my bearings. "I don't even know you." I was in a moving cart in a long line of carts, all pulled by brown horses and Imperial soldiers. Each cart was full of Stormcloak soldiers, bound by their hands and heads hung low. Not one had weapons on them, and a quick inspection of myself confirmed the same for me. I was bound and weaponless. I took a look at the others in my cart. "I don't know any of you." I glanced around, a heavy pit in my stomach. "Where's Bishop? Karnwyr? Fuck!"

The same Nord that had tried speaking to me before cleared his throat. "You were trying to cross the border, right? Into the mountains? Same as us, and that thief over there."

"The guards sure worked you over," the thief snorted.

The first Nord glared at the thief, then returned his attention to me. "I tried to tell those Imperial soldiers we didn't know you, but they didn't believe me. I guess I understand why since you're in Stormcloak armor."

"I'm not a Stormcloak. I got this armor from some racist blacksmith bitch from Windhelm who claimed she had nothing else to give me." My panic refused to fade, and I scanned the carts ahead for a familiar face.

The Nord shrugged. "I suppose we're all brothers and sisters in binds now. Anyhow, I'm Ralof. I'd say it's nice to meet you, but considering the circumstances-"

"Shut up back there!" the guard driving our cart snapped, not even bothering to turn his head to look at us.

I scowled at the back of the Imperial soldier's head. "If I had my swords, I'd cut his throat."

"They put all our weapons into a separate cart and brought it up ahead. You'll probably never see your swords again."

"Wait!" The thief peered at the finely-dressed Nord. "Who's that gagged fellow in the cart? He looks familiar."

"Watch your tongue!" Ralof snapped aggressively, his former neutral expression morphing into a snarl. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!" Although I remained silent, the thief was visibly horrified.

"That's the man who used the Voice to murder High King Torygg? The leader of the rebellion?" he choked out. His disbelief turned to anger, and he spat in Ulfric's face. "Hey, you! Ulfric! You traitor, you're the reason we're here! 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!"

"I'll gut you for that, dog!" Ralof threatened, kicking the thief's leg.

"Why bother? He's right," I growled. "Without this power-hungry sack of shit, I'd be walking across the forest with my ranger and wolf, not trapped in a cart with a couple of rebellious nutcases!" A sudden wind whipped up, tossing around everyone's hair.

Ralof returned my hostility. "Of course, an Imperial would think that." He nodded his head to Ulfric. "At least Sovngarde will be waiting for us. Our ancestors, feasting... mead."

The thief's eyes glazed over. "Gods, what I wouldn't give for some mead right now," he whimpered.

"Hey, horse thief." Ralof kicked at the other Nord. "What hold are you from? Whiterun? The Reach? Haafingar?"

"Why do you care?" the thief grumbled.

Ralof scowled and stared at the floor of the shaking cart. "Because there won't be any holds once the Empire has its way. No Jarls to rule over them. Just Legion soldiers and martial law." He looked up again, this time eyeing me. "Every man, woman, and child in Skyrim is part of this rebellion, whether they like it or not. Everyone has to fight for the freedom of the nine holds."

The thief curled up his lip in distaste. "Freedom of the nine holds? I don't remember the Empire sweeping up every cutpurse in Skyrim before you bastards started butchering their soldiers!"

The voice of an Imperial soldier from ahead of the carts carried over the wind, and it sent a sharp knife of fear through my heart. "General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!" Tullius? It can't be the same... fuck! The line of carts was fed through the town I recognized as Helgen, and for a moment, I wondered if Kaidan was still there.

I heard the Imperial general speaking from up ahead, the voice known to me well enough to confirm it was the same Tullius I'd unfortunately dealt with years before. "Good. Let's get this over with." The cart shook as it hit a large patch of rocks, and that combined with my nerves was enough to send me to the floor of the cart.

"Look at him," Ralof sneered, "General Tullius, the Military Governor. Once the guard captain of the Imperial City, now the boot-licking toadie of the Thalmor. Speaking of those damn Elves, it looks like they're with him. I'll bet they had something to do with this!"

I crawled to my knees, peeking over the top of the wagon to catch a glimpse of Tullius. He was facing away from us, speaking to a patrol of Thalmor. The closest was a tall golden female with a nasal voice, her nose tipped up in distaste. "You are bound to listen to us, Imperial! You must bring Ulfric before the Thalmor's leaders for a trial before sentencing him to death!"

Tullius shook his head, refusing to be swayed by the High Elf's demands. "I'm sorry, Elenwen." He didn't sound sorry in the slightest. "It would cause far too many problems. That's just not possible."

The Altmer he'd called Elenwen harrumphed in irritation. "You're making a terrible mistake! My superiors will hear of this! In fact, your Emperor will hear of this! By the terms of the White-Gold Concordat, I operate with full Imperial authority!"

"More like the White-Brown Concordat," called out a Stormcloak from another cart, "because I wiped my ass with it!"

Elenwen scowled his way, but Tullius ignored the Stormcloak entirely. "I'll take my chances, Elenwen. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a war to end."

"Ugh, Thalmor bitch," Ralof scoffed, frowning heavily at the black-garbed Altmer before looking around at our surroundings. "This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here." His eyes wandered to the tavern. "Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in." He sighed forlornly. "Funny. When I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

"Who are they, Daddy?" a small voice piped up, and I looked to see a young boy, likely no older than nine or ten, tugging on a taller Nord's sleeve. "Where are they going?"

The Nord eyed us all before ushering his son into the house. "You need to go inside, little cub."

"Why?" the boy complained, peering out over the railing. "I want to watch the soldiers!"

"Inside the house," the man commanded with a hint of warning. "Now."

The boy's shoulders slumped as he trudged inside. "Yes, Papa."

We didn't have much further to go. Our cart stopped alongside the many others before it, and I again looked through each coach for a familiar face I might call friend. "Get these prisoners out of the carts!" an Imperial captain commanded, her face steeled with hate. Her bringing everyone out only made it more problematic to look for Bishop in the growing crowd. "I said, move it!"

"W-why are we stopping?" the thief stammered. It was clear to everyone, including him, why the carts had ended their journey.

"Why do you think?" Ralof said darkly. "End of the line." He stood up. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us."

The thief shook his head violently. "No, wait! I'm not a rebel! I swear, I'm not with them!" Despite his protests, he was yanked off along with Ralof and Ulfric. In the meantime, I was still desperately searching for an opening to escape. "You've got to tell them! I wasn't with you! This is a mistake!"

"Face your death with some courage, thief," Ralof hissed, his footfalls slow behind his leader. "Look at the Imperial woman here. She's not said a word for ten minutes."

The thief spared a single glance for me. "Just because she's accepted her fate doesn't mean I have to accept mine!" He pulled at his bonds. "I'm not a rebel!" he wailed.

The Imperial captain stomped up to the thief and slapped him across the face, hard. "Shut up, into the square, now." She returned to stand next to one of her subordinates, a young man with shaggy brown hair holding a long parchment and a quill. "Step towards the block when Hadvar calls your name, and don't even think about running!" Oh, I was doing more than thinking about it. I was actively planning it.

"The Empire loves their damn lists," Ralof muttered angrily.

The captain's lackey cleared his throat. "Norling Bronze-Daggers. Stormcloak rebel, guilty of treason, and sentenced to death. Skagvald Ember-Stone. Stormcloak rebel, guilty of treason, and sentenced to death. Njadva Fog-Sailer. Stormcloak rebel, guilty of treason and sentenced to death." He continued to list names, and the crowd of Stormcloak prisoners thinned one by one. No matter what, I still failed to find Bishop. "Lynllone Cairn-Singer. Stormcloak rebel, guilty of treason, and sentenced to death. Erikka Lone-Wind. Stormcloak rebel, guilty of treason, and sentenced to death." As the brown-haired Stormcloak woman stomped up to the block with her head held high, Ulfric groaned loudly through his gag. "Don't worry; you're next." Ulfric kept his eyes on the Stormcloak Erikka until his own name was said. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm. Guilty of murder, high treason, and sentenced to death."

Carted toward the block, Ulfric took his place next to Erikka and gave her a sorrowful look. I wasted no more time wondering why as the rest of my cart was called. "Next in line. Ralof of Riverwood." Ralof and Hadvar each stared the other down, and it became clear they somehow knew each other. "Stormcloak rebel. Guilty of treason, and sentenced to death."

"I'm a proud son of Skyrim," Ralof announced, heading toward the block with purpose. "And Shor will know it!"

The Imperial soldier shook his head and beckoned for the thief and me to step forward. He scanned his list. "Name?"

"I can't be on your list! I'm Lokir, and I'm not a Stormcloak!" He glanced around frantically as if hoping for someone to stand up for him. Unfortunately for him, the area remained silent.

Hadvar's quill scratched on the paper. "It says right here you are. Sorry."

Lokir tensed up, and I instantly knew what he was about to do. "No, please!" He dug his feet into the ground and sprinted away, weaving between the crowd. "All I did was steal a horse!" he wailed. "I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!"

"Archers!" With that single word from the Imperial captain, Lokir was dead on the ground. I stared at his body with wide eyes, wondering how I could avoid that fate and yet still run away. The captain turned back to me, the final prisoner. "Feel like running?"

"Step forward, please," Hadvar said idly, as though it was just a simple conversation and not a call for my death. I plodded forward, swallowing my trepidation. "Hmm... what's your name?"

"Alessia," I forced through clenched teeth. "And whether or not you believe me, I'm not a rebel. I got this armor from a blacksmith. I'll denounce these Stormcloak bastards as much as you want. I'm not one of them."

The soldier lifted a skeptical brow. "Is that so?"

I nodded, then forced the Voice of the Emperor power into my words. It had never been more important to use than now. "I'm not a rebel. Let me go." Hadvar's eyes clouded over to my relief, and he lowered both his quill and parchment.

"Captain, she's not on the list," he said, slightly dazed.

The captain snorted and pushed him aside. "Forget the list, Hadvar. She's a liar, a traitor, and a Stormcloak. She goes to the block." My heart felt like it dropped into my stomach, and I wanted to scream.

"By your orders, captain." The Imperial soldier faced me again with a reluctant expression as the captain shoved past me. "Go on. Follow the captain." Instead of fear, I was flooded with frustration as I considered what lay before me. I didn't particularly fear death. However, I hadn't killed Nade, the one thing I'd wanted to do with my damned life before I inevitably ended it myself.

Up ahead was General Tullius speaking to the mass of prisoners, and I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood. While it didn't seem like it would matter anymore if he saw me, the sight of him was enough for me to try to hide behind another Nord. "You've all committed treason in the eyes of the Empire!" Tullius announced, standing up straight with his hands behind his back. "You chose to follow a false idol, and he has led you to your deaths!" The Stormcloaks murmured to themselves, though none seemed particularly repentant. "Ulfric Stormcloak, step forward." The prisoners parted to allow their leader to pass through and approach Tullius. "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."

Ulfric grunted in protest, but he went ignored by the general.

"You started this war," Tullius proclaimed, "plunged Skyrim into chaos! And now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace!"

A shiver went down my back, gripping my spine as a distant noise rang across the mountainside.

"What was that?" Hadvar wondered, holding a hand above his eyes to scan the direction from which the noise had come. It was a harsh sound that made every hair on my body stand on end.

"It's nothing," Tullius said briskly. "Carry on."

The Imperial captain saluted the general. "Yes, General Tullius!" she announced, going on her tiptoes for a moment. "Priestess! Give them their last rites."

A woman in a drab brown robe stepped forward, holding her hands up as she spoke to us all. "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you!" The Stormcloaks collectively broke out in protest, most likely at her usage of 'Eight' instead of 'Nine' for the Divines. I didn't give a shit about Talos or whether or not he counted as a Divine. After all, he hadn't helped me while I was trapped in Oblivion. No one had. "You are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved-"

"For the love of Talos, shut up, and let's get this over with!" one of the Stormcloaks interrupted, shouldering the priestess out of the way and taking his spot in front of the chopping block.

The priestess scowled at him in annoyance. "As you wish," she snorted, walking away in a huff.

The Stormcloak turned and sneered at the Imperial soldiers surrounding him. "Come on; I haven't got all morning!" One of the soldiers put his foot on the Stormcloak's back, forcing him to set his neck into the bloodied curve of the block. "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" The axe came down, severing the Stormcloak's head in one fell swoop. The onlookers released a collective groan as it fell into the waiting wooden basket.

"You Imperial bastards!" the Stormcloak I recognized as Erikka hollered.

"Justice!" called out a Helgen villager.

"Death to the Stormcloaks!"

Ralof sighed to my distant right. "As fearless in death as he was in life."

The odd feeling took hold of me once again as the same cry echoed over the land, but it was much louder this time. The soldier with the list approached the captain, fear in his eyes. "There it is again. Did you hear that?"

"The general already told you it's nothing, Hadvar. Now, next prisoner!" Another was carted to the block and swiftly executed in the same manner as his Stormcloak brother, though in the meantime, Hadvar seemed to be speaking lowly to the captain. As he did, she grew more and more frustrated with him. "That's enough!" She pointed to me out of the blue. "Next, the renegade from Cyrodiil!" I stared in surprise that she'd have chosen me out of the countless Stormcloaks that had been there long before me. "Did you hear me? I said, next prisoner!" Hadvar stared at me regretfully as I walked up to the block, and I realized he'd likely signed my death warrant by trying to convince the captain to let me go.

"To the block, prisoner," he said sorrowfully. "Nice and easy. I'm sorry you got caught up in this mess."

"Yeah," I murmured, "me too." I clenched and unclenched my fists as I walked over. Just like the others, a foot was placed sturdily on my back, forcing me to my knees and neck onto the block. The block was wet with the still-warm blood that had poured from the necks of the dead Stormcloaks, and as the headsman lifted his axe, I squeezed my eyes shut and wished fervently for something to save me.

"What in Oblivion is that?!" Tullius' voice rang out, distracting the headsman and bringing attention to the giant black creature in the sky. It gave a booming roar that split the sky, bringing about a red hellstorm of fire and stone.

"Sentries! Shoot it down!" Stormcloaks, villagers, and Imperials alike were rushing about in panic, and I stared wide-eyed at the beast flying above Helgen. With scales black as night, eyes a dark crimson like blood, vast wings that blocked out the sky, and a jaw full of viciously sharp teeth, it could only be one thing.

A dragon.

"Don't just stand there!" Tullius commanded his troops. "Don't you dare abandon your post! Kill that thing!"

I used the skirmish to jump from the chopping block and run in any direction, terrified of the gigantic beast that now bathed the ground in unholy flames. People screamed as they burned alive while others wept as the dragon destroyed their homes and families in seconds.

A villager ran past me, screaming in terror. "A dragon! It's a dragon! Gods help us!"

"Guards, get the townspeople to safety!"

"It's the end times! The end times have come!"

"Divines help us!"

The dragon tipped its head and let loose a massive concussive sound, sending the headsman flying against a wall, the man's neck snapping against the hard gray stone. Its bloodred eyes fixed on me, and panic roiled in my belly as it opened its mouth again. I was pinned to the spot with fear, and the dragon's mouth glowed with flame. Smoke billowed from its nostrils as it prepared another gout of its blazing breath, yet I couldn't move a muscle. It thrust its head forward, ready to turn me into a pile of ash.

"Watch it, ladyship!" Just before the blast struck me, I was bowled over and sheltered from the flames by a thickly muscled form. Once the heat faded, I was able to look up into the eyes of my savior.

"Fucking hell, Bishop!" I breathed, throwing my arms around his neck. "Where were you?!"

Bishop winced and pushed me off, keeping his eyes on the sky. "Can we talk about this later?" He whipped out his knife and cut my bonds. "We need to get the hell out of here first!" He tossed me my silver swords. "Figured you might need these. Now let's go!" The ranger dragged me into a tower where several Stormcloaks were taking refuge, including Ulfric Stormcloak. They were all too busy talking amongst themselves to notice either Bishop or me, and I was perfectly okay with that. "Up through the tower, ladyship. Let's go, move it!" He damn near shoved me up the steps, and it was only adrenaline that kept my legs moving.

"We just need to move some of these rocks to clear the way!" a Stormcloak soldier said from the second floor, trying to clear away a pile of rubble that had half-buried his buddy.

"Dammit, the windows are blocked," Bishop cursed. "Get-" A massive explosion threw me backward into Bishop's sturdy grip. A way had been cleared to move, but unfortunately, an obstruction in that path happened to be the dragon. It released a blazing inferno over the barely-living Stormcloak, setting him aflame and ending his life. Bishop had pressed me against the wall, hidden from the eyes of the beast.

The dragon eyed the destruction with grim satisfaction and used the broken tower to launch himself back into the sky. Bishop released me and ran to the edge, and I quickly followed. He watched the giant beast soar through the sky, then surveyed the area. "See the inn on the other side? I'm going to jump through the roof, and I'll catch you once I'm sure the ground is stable!" He didn't waste any more time on explanation, simply dug his feet into the gravel and launched himself into the air. The ranger landed with a roll, negating any damage he might otherwise have taken. Brushing himself off, he faced me and held up his hands. I couldn't hear what he was saying over the ensuing shriek of the dragon, but it wouldn't take a genius to guess he was urging me to jump. I nodded and took a step back to give myself more room for a running start, hoping to avoid any injuries. Taking what couldn't be anything other than a leap of faith, I launched myself through the broken tower into the waiting arms of my ranger. He stumbled back at the force but still managed to keep himself upright and set me down carefully.

Bishop continued to move through the inn, not wasting time on talk. We jumped down through the inn's broken flooring to the ground level, hearing Hadvar speaking from outside. I didn't bother listening, but Bishop yanked me back just as the dragon landed outside. If he hadn't been there, I'd have been a smashed pile of flesh underneath its sharp black wing. Hadvar ushered the boy I'd seen earlier into a nearby house, but the boy's father died underneath the hellish fire erupting from the dragon's maw.

It took off again, and Bishop pulled me along. "Stay close to me if you want to stay alive, ladyship," he ordered, running across the open area to the wall. "It's coming for the wall! Take cover!" I obeyed the ranger's orders without question, tucking myself into a small nook away from the dragon's perch. It killed a slew of Imperial soldiers firing arrows at it in one breath, their burning bodies slowly crumbling to ash. "Don't bother feeling bad for them, sweetness. They deserve every bit of this!" Bishop gripped my wrist and yanked me along as soon as he deemed it safe, weaving in and out of soldiers that had been trying to kill me ten minutes before.

"Die, dragon!"

"How in Oblivion do we kill this thing?"

"Just... die!"

While I had to admit that the appearance of the dragon was a lucky break for Bishop and me, the death and destruction it wrought wasn't something I'd have wished on almost anybody.

"Ralof! You damned traitor, out of my way!" I recognized Hadvar standing ahead of Ralof, both with their swords drawn against each other.

"I'm escaping, Hadvar! You're not stopping me this time!"

Hadvar glanced back and forth between the flaming sky and Ralof. "Fine! I hope that dragon takes you to Sovngarde!" They fled into opposite sides of the keep, though Bishop brought me into the one the Stormcloak had escaped into. Inside were several other Stormcloaks, though a vast majority seemed either to have died outside or were still running around like maniacs.

"Ralof!" Ulfric waved him in. "So you managed to survive after all? The gods must favor you." While they caught up, chattering among themselves, I was gripping Bishop like a damn lifeline. "This is it. I don't think anyone else made it."

"Is Erikka- oh, thank Talos." Ralof breathed a sigh of relief at seeing her sitting in a chair behind Ulfric. Her eyes were wide with terror, lips pressed together tightly. "Good, good. Hopefully, the others find another way out of Helgen."

Ulfric crossed his arms. "I don't know where that dragon came from, but without it, we'd all be a foot shorter and a lot less talkative."

Bishop stepped forward, gently pushing me off. "Yeah? And without you, we wouldn't be here in the first place. Those dead 'Stormcloaks' out there would be alive and with their families." Ulfric's expression soured, but the ranger wasn't done. "Think of how many people-"

"Bishop!" I pulled him back by his hood. "Now is not the time to start fights."

"Listen to your lady, ranger," Ulfric advised, "or I'll do to you what I did to Dead King Torygg."

Ralof stepped between the feuding Nords. "A dragon, a real live dragon. Just like the children's stories and the legends. The harbingers of the End Times!" He turned back to Ulfric. "What do we do, my lord? I'll help in any way I can."

Ulfric scratched at his thick red beard. "Keep Erikka safe, at the cost of your life if need be."

"Of course, my lord."

"The rest of you, if you haven't already, find weapons and armor. There's no doubt we'll find opposition further in. Those damn Imperials won't care that there's a dragon wreaking havoc. They'll want to see our blood on the stones. Skagvald, try to get that door open."

"Right away, Jarl Ulfric." The Stormcloaks obeyed the commands without a second thought, treating Ulfric like he was Talos himself. After a few moments, Skagvald gave an annoyed groan. "It's locked, my Jarl. There's no way through."

"If I had a couple of picks, I'd have that gate open in seconds," Bishop muttered.

"But we don't have any picks, so we're going to have to rely on them to try to get us through."

"Njadva, try the gate."

"Of course, my Jarl." She played with the wooden gate for a while, then reached for a lever on the other side. "Damn! No way to open this from our side."

Ulfric's frown deepened. "Both of you, keep trying. One way or another, we need to make it through the keep."

"...Come on, soldier, keep moving!" The disgusting voice of the Imperial captain echoed through the tunnel through the gate, and I squeezed my fingers around one of my swords. As soon as they showed their faces, they instantly became aggressive. "The prisoners are escaping! Kill them!" I darted through the crowd and thrust my blade into the captain's neck the second they opened the gate, and the two soldiers at her side died at the hands of Ulfric and Njadva.

I wiped the blood off on the captain's body, spitting on her face as a last fuck you before digging around in her armor. "Aha. A key." I lifted the rough iron. "This might open the other gate."

"Excellent. Good job," Ulfric praised his men. "Between us and the dragon, not many Imperials will be making it out of Helgen today." The Stormcloaks gave a cheer while I rolled my eyes and headed for the other door. The key clicked in the lock, almost echoing as the door's hinges creaked open. The Stormcloaks let Ulfric take the lead, filing through like a couple of well-trained monkeys. On the other hand, I waited up for Bishop.

"Nice going, ladyship." The ranger patted my shoulder. "I'm almost surprised we survived." Another roar shook the tower. "But the conversation's still going to have to wait for now. Let's get out of here before that damnable dragon brings the whole tower down on our heads."

I nodded. "Agreed. Let's go."

"We need to find our way out of here, and quickly. The dragon's determined to have this tower down, by the sound of it." Ulfric's powerful voice sounded up the stairs to his soldiers.

"No, I thought he was trying to mate with it," I muttered to myself, earning a low chuckle from Bishop. A deafening roar followed, and the tower shook violently. I slipped down the last two steps, barely catching myself as half the ceiling collapsed in the tunnels up ahead.

"Damn, that dragon doesn't give up easy, does it?" Ralof mentioned, watching Ulfric as he checked on Erikka, then on the rest of the Stormcloaks. The tower shook again, but this time didn't fall apart.

"That dragon's going to have this tower around our heads if we don't keep moving!" Ulfric hollered. "Let's go!"

The following rooms were little more than storerooms and prisons. The Stormcloaks took care of most enemies for us, which I was grateful for. I hadn't missed the way Bishop's movement was slowed, showing he was hiding an injury.

After all the Imperials were dispatched, frostbite spiders took their place, and I almost jumped into Bishop's arms at the eight-legged freaks. Normally, I'd have expected him to laugh, maybe make a joke or two at my expense, but the ranger was stoically silent.

The final obstruction to freedom was a big brown bear, but again, the Stormcloaks dispatched them before either Bishop or I had to lift a finger. While the Stormcloaks filed out, Bishop hung back with me for a minute, catching his breath. I rubbed at my stinging eyes, watching the ranger and waiting for a remark.

I didn't have to wait long.

"Ladyship?" Bishop huffed, hands on his knees.

"Yeah?"

"...What the fuck just happened?"

I threw my hands up. "I have no idea. No fucking idea whatsoever." I chewed on the inside of my cheek. "Shit... where do we go from here?"

"What, we can't take a rest?" Bishop grumbled, then followed up with a sigh. "You're right, you're right. We should get Karnwyr, get to a city, and get a few potions." He scratched at his back and winced. "I need one."

"What?" I walked around him and checked the backside of his armor, putting a hand to my mouth as I realized the entirety of it was scorched, some burned away to reveal screaming red flesh underneath. "Bishop, you-!"

"Got burned? I noticed." He slapped my hand away. "Well, don't touch it!" he snapped crossly.

"Bishop, what happened?! I thought we managed to avoid the fires!" I tasted blood from gnawing on my cheek and commanded myself to stop.

The ranger glared at me out of the corner of his eyes. "Does it matter?"

"Of course, it matters," I insisted. "Here." I pulled out a small red potion. "I nicked it in one of the storerooms, but I didn't think I'd need it so soon." I moved to Bishop's back. "Here." I dumped it over his angry broken skin, and he sucked in a breath as it started knitting itself back together. It wasn't enough to fully heal the bad burns he'd sustained, but at the least, it was enough to make him somewhat comfortable.

He closed his eyes and leaned back. "Thanks, princess."

"You're welcome. Now-"

He rescued me. I was going to get burnt to a crisp by that dragon, and he rescued me. He shielded me from the fire.

I faced Bishop with my jaw hung open, and Bishop's expression instantly turned suspicious. "What?"

I bit my lip again. "Nothing. Nothing, it's nothing."

Bishop quirked an eyebrow. "Liar." With a huff, he slapped his knees. "Well, that's enough waiting around. Let's go. I asked Karnwyr to circle Helgen until I could get your dumb ass out, but with the dragon, he probably wandered off." I nodded meekly and again took the lead, fighting the urge to turn around and stare at the Nord.

He saved my life.

The fresh air outside the cave was a refreshing break from the stale tower and smoke inside Helgen. "Holy shit," I breathed, closing my eyes to take in the cool breeze. "I can't believe we-"

Bishop's hand snaked out around my head and covered my mouth, and he yanked me against him before dropping us to the ground. Although I fought for a second, the dragon's reappearance over our heads made it clear why he'd taken the measures. "That yapping of yours probably would have brought that overgrown lizard right back to us, and then all this would have been for nothing." He released my mouth and allowed me to crawl back to my feet. "It headed up north, so we'll have to be careful from here on out if we want to avoid another confrontation."

I nodded and brushed off my pants, looking back and forth between the ranger and the direction the dragon had disappeared. A feeling of foreboding held onto my consciousness and refused to let go. "Bishop?"

"Hmm?"

"Why do I get a distinct feeling that's not the last time we'll see that thing?"

…

…

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Opening Scene Overhaul SE by Publick Gamer

(Plus, not quite a mod, but a quote from the Skyrim Scribbles on YouTube)