Nathaniel… out of every name that exists, why does he have my husband's? Nora stared dully at the back of her cell, the rancid hide blanket wrapped tight around her body to ward off the cold. The passage of time was a torture of its own, every moment a stretched eternity of nothing but fear and misery. Neither Nathaniel or Thorald had spoken after their introductions, which left Nora alone with her thoughts.
Her body ached, the pervasive chill of the cell numbing everything other than the pain of her burns. But she didn't want to think on what had happened in the torture room. Didn't want to relive the way the bitch had smiled with each torment she had inflicted.
She also didn't want to think about the next time the woman had promised. So she thought on her husband's name instead.
She longed to hold her rings and holotags, but when she reached for them, they were gone. A guard had stolen her rings, and the interrogator had laid claim to her holotags. No doubt she wanted to study it for any Brotherhood secrets-
The thought struck Nora hard, her body jolting as her mind screeched to a halt. The Brotherhood. She kept asking about the Brotherhood.
The Prydwen had disappeared from the Commonwealth months before - what if it had somehow arrived here? What if Danse…?
A loud clanging made her flinch, her moment of hope extinguished by dread. Warily, she turned her head to peek back over her shoulder towards the cell door. She saw Nathaniel's silhouette rise stiffly in his cell and draw closer, one hand gripping the bars.
"Dinner time," his voice whispered from the gloom. "Best you get up if you want to eat."
At his words, Nora realised that she hadn't eaten in some time. The last meal she could recall was a few sips of soup back in Starlight's clinic… if she didn't count the chunks of raw meat she'd vomited the morning after. Her stomach clenched.
"C'mon," Nathaniel whispered as footsteps echoed down the corridor. "You'll need strength to survive this!"
Nora hesitated before making the effort to rise. She staggered onto her feet, only to feel dizzy and light headed. She braced a hand against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the sensations to subside before shuffling towards the door.
She arrived at the same time the guards did.
There were two of them, each carrying a wooden pail. One was full of food scraps, the other water. They stopped outside Nathaniel's cell first, the guard with food throwing a handful of slops through the bars while the other dipped a ladle in their water, before thrusting it towards him.
Droplets spattered the stone at his feet, and Nathaniel grabbed the ladle to inhale its contents before more could be lost. The guard wrenched it back in short order, and the pair turned to face Nora.
"Ah. The outlander," the one with the food pail drawled. "No food for that one. Only water."
With that he strode towards the next cell, and the remaining guard sullenly doled out the water. Nora barely drank two mouthfuls before the guard yanked the ladle away and moved on.
In his cell, she could see Nathaniel gathering up what little food had been thrown his way.
With nothing for herself, Nora retreated back to her spot and settled down as comfortably as she could. She closed her eyes, telling herself she probably couldn't have kept the food down anyway.
The guard's footsteps gradually receded, and quiet returned to the dungeon.
"Pssst. Nora."
Nora rolled over to peer through the bars, wincing at her protesting muscles.
In the torchlight, she saw Nathaniel draw his arm back and something sailed between the bars of both cells to land in hers. When she crawled towards it, she discovered a morsel of bread on the stone.
"That's all I can spare," he whispered. "Best eat it before the guards come back."
Nora picked it up, dusting it off before popping it in her mouth. The bread was stale and dry, almost too hard to chew - but the gratitude she felt at his kindness was almost crushing. Whoever he was, he had a heart of gold. Like my Nate…
Nora pushed the thought away, resisting the tide of grief threatening to overwhelm her. Instead she crept towards the bars so he could hear her whispered "Thank you."
"Don't mention it," Nathaniel murmured, slumping down beside his door.
"You shouldn't have done that," Thorald growled. "She ain't one of us."
"Enough, Thorald. A little bread ain't gonna make much difference," Nathaniel sighed. "Besides, it doesn't hurt to show a little kindness."
"She could be some kind of daedra for all we know," Thorald challenged. "Nobody knows where these outlanders come from, or who they serve."
"So let's ask the source," Nathaniel replied, and Nora could feel his eyes on her. "Where do you hail from, Nora?"
A near complete silence had fallen, and Nora wondered how many of the other prisoners were listening in. She clutched the hide even tighter as she considered her answer.
"I'm from Boston, though I guess it's better known as the Commonwealth these days."
"Never heard of it," Nathaniel replied, and Nora could hear the frown in his voice. "Is it from some realm of Oblivion?"
"'Oblivion?'" Nora repeated, and now it was her turn to frown. "No it's… it's in America. On Earth?"
"Earth as in soil?" Thorald sounded confused.
"No - Earth as in the world. The planet? We are on Earth, right?" Nora could hear her voice rising, her words beginning to shake. For a moment, no one replied.
"You're in Skyrim, in Tamriel, on Nirn," Nathaniel said slowly.
White noise began to roar in Nora's ears, and she suddenly felt distant from her body as his words sank in. Tamriel? Nirn? She had never heard of them - and they sounded nothing like 'Boston' or 'America.' The light headedness returned with a vengeance. This can't be right…
"Are you even human?" Thorald demanded, his voice accusing.
Human. Finally a word that made sense.
"Yeah, I'm human…" her thoughts turned to the scaled fingers she had seen gripping the cell bars when she was dragged through the dungeon. Their towering golden captors. "Are you ?"
"'Course I'm human!" Thorald snapped. "I'm a Nord!"
"What are you doing in here, Nora?" Nathaniel interrupted. "I thought your people were all the way down in Whiterun. The Thalmor catch you off guard?"
"My people? You mean the Brotherhood of Steel?" Nora's heartbeat quickened, and she leaned closer to the bars.
"That sounds about right," Nathaniel said slowly. "They're the outlanders who came from the sky in a flying castle."
"The Prydwen?" Nora demanded. "Where's this Whiterun? How do I-"
"Guards are coming!" a new voice hissed, and Nora's mouth snapped shut. In the silence footsteps echoed, drawing closer with the rattle of chains. Nora retreated as the steps drew closer, and Nathaniel did the same.
The guards stepped into sight and stopped, facing Nathaniel's cell. Nora's heart sank.
"On your feet, maggot," one of the guards ordered, readying the shackled chains in his hands. "Oriana has something special planned for you. She'll make it even more special if you're late."
The cell door opened with a pained squeal, and Nora rose uncertainly to her feet. It wasn't like she could do anything for him, but-
The guard crashed into the bars of Nora's cell.
Nora yelped, staring wide eyed as Nathaniel slammed the guard's head repeatedly into the iron. Something fell through the bars, clattering to the floor in the struggle. A ring laden with keys.
Green light flooded the corridor, and Nathaniel went rigid.
"You miserable wretch!" The second guard launched at him with a truncheon. "I'll teach you to lay your filthy hands on a soldier of the Dominion!"
Nathaniel hit the ground, unable to protect himself from the blows. The guard he'd attacked took a moment to gather himself before pushing away from the bars, kicking and stamping in a storm of violence.
Nathaniel's pained grunts were just audible over the meaty thunks of their strikes.
Nora inched across her cell, heart hammering, wincing at every strike. She didn't want to see it, how Nathaniel tried to curl up, the guards baring their teeth in vicious grins and reveling in his pain. The closer she got to the keys, the more certain she was that they would see her.
There was a loud clang to the left of her cell, the ring of shaking bars.
"You gutless snowbacks!" Thorald roared. "You pointy eared sons of horkers-"
One of the guards reared up just as Nora crouched, her hand gripping the keyring as the guard threw a bolt of lightning towards Thorald. Then he saw Nora.
She shied away as he turned to face her cell, lips stretched in a manic grin. "That's right, outlander. Don't get any ideas."
The other guard stooped to shackle Nathaniel's wrists, spitting on him for good measure before both guards grabbed the chain and dragged him away. All Nora saw of Nathaniel was a large body in soiled rags, his bare arms mottled with cuts and bruises. His face was concealed by long, matted dark hair, but she was certain it would have been battered and swollen. Splotches of blood darkened the stone.
Nora held her breath, waiting for the guards to come running back…
But their footsteps and the sound of Nathaniel's body dragging on stone faded away.
Releasing a shuddering breath, Nora dropped the hide that shielded her body and stepped to the bars, holding the keyring in the torchlight. There were six keys, five brass and one iron that matched the cell doors. Her hand shook as she fumbled the key into the lock.
When the bolt slid open, she released a breath she hadn't realised she was holding.
The door gave a traitorous screech as she eased it ajar, but there was no shout of alarm or charging footsteps. Still, Nora kept herself as small as possible as she crept towards Thorald's cell.
Inside she saw a large man with long, matted grey hair and an unkempt beard. He was pushing himself up from the floor, though his eyes cut to her the second she appeared at his door. He stiffened, and she could feel his glare piercing through her.
"It's me, Nora," she whispered, putting the key in the lock. "We don't have long."
The bolt snapped back and she turned to the cell behind her, key ready in her hand. She froze.
A pair of large, golden eyes glinted from between the bars, around which furred fingers were curled. A cat - a cat as big as a man, with opposable thumbs and human-like hands who was standing on two legs.
"Hurry, five-claw!" the cat-person hissed. "Do not leave this one behind!"
Thorald's door squealed at her back, and the sound snapped Nora from her shock. She moved into action, deciding that no one deserved to be left in the cells, human or otherwise. The sight of the cat's tail, or what was left of it, steeled her resolve.
She made her way down the cells as fast as she could, opening any she found occupied. She hesitated only a moment when she reached a cell with a lizard-person, but shook away her wariness. If there were cat-people, why not lizard-people? Maybe she'd encounter a dog-person next.
A thunderous boom exploded along the corridor with a blast of air. The open cell doors slammed shut, the torches guttered, the earth shook and dust rained from the ceiling. Nora staggered, almost knocked off her feet.
What was that? An earthquake? Some kind of alarm?
Heart hammering in her ribcage, Nora turned to where the other prisoners were congregated, only to see Thorald storming back in her direction.
"What's going on?" she whispered. "Is there a plan?"
"Leave with the snowbacks if you want," he growled, stalking past her. "I'm not leaving without Nathaniel."
Nora glanced between him and the other prisoners who were beginning to disappear around the corner. She curled her hands into fists, nails biting her palms, and turned to follow Thorald.
"I'm not leaving without him either." She wished that she sounded braver, but couldn't keep the tremor from her voice. Thorald glanced back at her, and she saw his eyes were white-ringed, nostrils flared and lips bloodless. He was as terrified as she was. Maybe even more so.
He gave her a single nod.
A distant roar echoed, and Nora glanced at the ceiling.
"What is that?" she whispered, "and what was that wind earlier?"
Thorald just shook his head. His jaw was clenched so tightly, she didn't think he could open it. She half expected to hear his teeth crack.
They reached an open doorway that annexed a corridor beyond.
Nora glimpsed two rows of iron studded doors, interspersed by empty gibbets jutting from the walls. One door was broken, the thick wood jagged and splintered. Raised voices emanated from within the room, though they were drowned out by an even louder roar.
The voices fell silent, and a familiar dark-robed figure emerged from the doorway, picking her way over the splinters as running footsteps echoed from an unseen direction. A guard sprinted into sight, skidding to a halt in front of the interrogator.
Nora's burns prickled.
"What is going on out there?" The woman demanded. Gone was the sneering arrogance from her voice. She sounded tense, shaken, and Nora noted that her hood was down, exposing long, dishevelled blonde hair that was plastered to her scalp with blood.
Something, or someone, had evidently given the bitch a taste of her own medicine.
"A dragon has descended from the mountain, ma'am. It's attacking the fort."
As if on cue the ground shuddered beneath their feet and the walls shook. More dust fell from the ceiling, and Nora felt the vibrations when she gripped the wall for support.
The interrogator cursed as she straightened up, one hand touching the wound on her head.
"There's more," the guard continued. "Prisoners have escaped the dungeons, but given our circumstances it was decided that the dragon-"
"Enough!" the woman spat, stalking in the direction the soldier had come from. "Of course the dragon takes precedence! What's our strategy?"
Another roar tore through the building, and Nora felt a gust of hot air sweep from the dungeon behind them. She could smell burning.
Well, if cat-people, lizard-people and elves exist, why not dragons?
"C'mon! He's got to be in there," she whispered, slipping from cover before Thorald could react. Nora crept down the corridor towards the broken door and crossed the threshold only to freeze, the air trapped in her lungs.
Nathaniel was strung from the ceiling by chains, naked and covered in blood. Lacerations striped his torso, arms and legs. His head hung limp, but his chest was still heaving and she could hear his laboured breathing.
"Gods!"
Nora stumbled as Thorald shoved past her, reaching for the shackles holding Nathaniel's wrists. He removed the pins holding them in place and Nathaniel dropped, emitting a pained groan when Thorald caught him.
Nora rushed towards them, hands hovering uncertainly. She couldn't think of what to do, what might help-
"Look for potions," Thorald ordered, carefully lowering Nathaniel to the ground.
"Potions?"
"Bottles!" Thorald snapped. "Look for red and green bottles!"
Nora turned on the spot, and her eyes discovered a table not unlike the one in the chamber where she had been tortured. Rows of glass bottles and vials were set upon it, and upon closer inspection she was relieved to see that most of them were labelled.
She grabbed a few bottles of 'healing elixir' and 'fortify' before rushing back to Thorald's side. Thorald immediately grabbed one of the red bottles, uncorking it with his teeth before pressing the bottle to Nathaniel's lips.
"See if there's anything in here to help us get out," he ordered. "Any weapons or armour we could use."
The fort trembled in the wake of another roar. In the corridor, something cracked.
Sweat beading her brow, Nora turned her attention to the rest of the room. Weapons were in abundance, lining the walls with wicked blades and spikes. But there were no sheaths to go with them. No way to easily carry them.
Frowning, she focused on the desk. Aside from the bottles and a couple of dark crystals, nothing leaped out at her. Then her eyes fell upon a knapsack and wooden trunk stowed beneath it.
Within the knapsack she discovered a sheathed dagger, the same filigree gold as the armour worn by the guards. Besides that was a heavy woolen dress, a pair of fur lined boots, gloves and a cloak. She also discovered a small pouch of coins.
She quickly pulled the dress over the burlap rags she wore, and the boots over her feet. They were large and ill-fitting, but would keep her warm.
Nora then turned her attention to the trunk behind the bag and discovered even more clothes, mismatched and jumbled together. She supposed they had all belonged to previous victims. There were tunics, breeches, dresses, leathers and furs of all kinds. She grabbed armfuls of clothing and threw them onto the floor, then grabbed the biggest and thrust them towards Thorald.
"What are you doing?" he hissed, glaring at her over his shoulder.
"Thinking ahead! I don't want to freeze to death when we get out of here!"
Another roar resonated, and Nora pulled the knapsack onto the desk and began to fill it with useful-sounding potions. As she worked, she heard Nathaniel gasping in pain, and when she turned to was to find him conscious but in visible agony as Thorald dressed him.
When the knapsack was full, Nora closed it and pulled it over her shoulders. She bit back a hiss when the weight pressed against her ice burns. Nathaniel had it far worse.
With the golden dagger sheathed at her hip, Nora slipped to the door to scope the corridor beyond, and a fine rain of pebbles had her glancing up at the ceiling. A large crack ran through the stone, slowly growing into a fissure. She turned back to the room, and found Thorald half-dragging, half-carrying Nathaniel towards her.
Without a word Nora ducked under Nathaniel's other arm despite the height difference, and the three of them struggled out into the corridor. The air tasted of dust and smoke, distant shouts and screams echoing from above.
Each roar seemed to rend the fissure above them wider, and it took all of Nora's willpower to remain beneath Nathaniel's arm rather than take her chances and run. They retraced their steps through the dungeon as the cracks spread overhead, racing them.
The smoke grew thicker the further they went, stinging their eyes and irritating their lungs. Nora's eyes watered as they finally rounded a corner at the far end of the dungeons, arriving at the foot of a steep stairwell. Black smoke poured down the steps in a toxic waterfall.
She choked on it as they climbed, and from their wheezing Nathaniel and Thorald fared little better.
Then they reached even ground, and followed a gust of air through the smoky nether-sky to an open doorway. All Nora could see through it was more smoke and the dirty, frenetic light of fire. She stepped on something that crumbled beneath her boots, but her eyes watered too much to see what it was.
A powerful gale beat the smoke away and tousled her hair.
A deafening roar filled Nora's ears, and she looked skyward in time to see a monstrous shadow blot out the stars. A great maw opened wide and spewed liquid fire that fell in a burning curtain.
She and Thorald recoiled as the liquid erupted into a wall of flames, blazing white hot and blinding as the beast's wings fanned them to greater heights. The roar of the flames was almost enough to drown out the terrified screams of soldiers and horses, who were rendered into nothing more than chaotic shadows silhouetted by the blazing light.
Then Thorald lurched forward and Nathaniel's arm flexed around her shoulders, dragging her with them.
The air shimmered with the intense heat, and Nora could feel the stones cooking underfoot, even through the soles of her boots. The snow and sludge she had anticipated was evaporated, and all was fire and shadow until they reached the wooden barricade that the dragon had reduced to splinters.
The beat of wings sounded overhead, and they were buffeted by gales that almost sent them sprawling to the ground. The earth jolted underfoot with a great crack of stone, and Nora couldn't help but look over her shoulder as they fled.
Behind them loomed a monstrous shape, almost as big as the fort. It's scales glittered like emeralds in the firelight as it shifted, the dark veins visible in its wings as it splayed them, forming its own barricade to corral its prey. The dragon's head rose on a long, serpentine neck that began to glow from its inner fire before it spat more flame - and Nora turned her eyes forward, praying the beast wouldn't come after them.