AN: Guys, guys! What is up. Long time no see, literally. Sorry for dropping off the face of fanfiction. But here's the rewrite of IAD, under a new name and hopefully it will read more smoothly than my last try. I will try to update as much as possible and I am also rewriting BFRE. Honestly, how did you guys not cringe at my previous writings...
Deep breath in...
My prey is sitting only a few meters in front of me. I draw back, arrow ready to fly, waiting for the right time to release. I won't allow myself to move an inch until my arrow hits its mark.The late summer heat bared down on me, but there was a light breeze in the air. Hunting from the trees kept my prey from scenting me, but it still knew I was there. It looked around cautiously, determined to find the predator that threatened it's peace before they striked. Another breeze, and it went back to grazing.
Exhale and release.
Years of practice and experience guided my arrow, and like so many times before, it struck true. Only a small sound of distress from the deer and then it hitting the ground was heard for a few seconds before the forest noises resumed. I not so carefully jumped down from the tree and made my way to my kill. There was always a cold silence before death, but you can hardly notice. Soon after the heat comes rushing and your blood pumps faster under your skin until it doesn't. At least that's what I think when I black out. Nope, nevermind. Just cold metal to the back of the head then nothing.
I knew better. Just because you're hunting, that doesn't mean you're the only predator. That was the first thing I learned. I should've heard other people in the woods, but I allowed myself to be put in a state where it's only me and my prey. Yeah, I might've deserved whatever I got hit over the head with.
There's a deep breath in, then an exhale of smoke that follows. A deep rumbling growl surrounds me. I turn and bright, flaming red eyes bore into me with hatred mixed with a confidence you get only from being feared from any and all.
"Dovahkiin, hi fen ni kron," the voice rumbles. He dare challenge me? Wait, challenge me? Who's challenging me, and to what?
"We will see Alduin," I responded. Who's Alduin? Sithis, my head hurts…
I opened my eyes and immediately regretted it. "Bright light, bright light! Holy great tits of Mara, bright fucking light!" I yelled out. Multiple men and women laugh at my dismay, and I can't help but laugh too. After a few long seconds, I open my eyes and all laughter stops. Three bound men stare at me. I don't know if it's because of my unnatural eyes, or they realized that this would literally be their last laugh.
"Thank you for that friend, at least I've had one good last memory. The name's Ralof. How'd you end up here? Imperial ambush like us and that horse thief?" He asked genuinely. I guess I could give the man an answer since you know, he asked nicely. I was going to, honest, until the horse thief rudely cut me off.
"I don't-"
"Damn you Stormcloaks! Skyrim was fine before you came along, Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've had that horse halfway to Hammerfell," he spits out. His crazed eyes landed on me, " You there! You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's the Stormcloaks the Empire wants. Especially Ulfric the Kingslayer there." Ah, I see now. Bound rebel soldiers? Check. Imperial soldier escorts? Check. Ah, multiple carts of Nords in blue? Check.
I'm screwed. Well, at least I had a semi-good head on my shoulders while I'll have it, at least. I watch for a few minutes as the two grown men bicker like five year olds over the last sweetroll. I admit it was entertaining till it wasn't. The bound and gagged man besides me started radiating annoyance and they weren't picking up on it. Then the Imperial soldiers started to slowly move towards our cart as they got louder. Soon the annoying argument turned to straight up irritating yelling.
"For the love of- Just shut up and sit down before they cut out your tongues instead of your heads! We're on the way to the block and you wish to spend your final moments acting like pups." The floor and the trees behind me suddenly became the most interesting things in the world to them. There was a collective sigh of relief and I could swear I heard a few 'thank the Nines' in the mix.
Unfortunately, the new calm soon turned into anxiousness and fear as Helgen's watchtower came into our view. I don't know about these battle-hardened soldiers, but I don't really like the idea of riding to my death in dead silence. So I did the next best thing…
" Oh, there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red, who came riding to Whiterun from ole Rorikstead,
And the braggart did swagger and brandish his blade, as he told of bold battles and gold he had made!"
There were a few reluctant chuckles on my choice of song, so I continued hoping for a better reaction.
"But then he went quiet, did Ragnar the Red, when he met the shieldmaiden Matilda who said,
Oh, you talk and you lie and you drink all our mead, now I think it's high time that you lie down and bleed!"
I can hear that Ulfric caught on to my joke and was humming loudly beside me while Ralof joyfully sang along. The horse thief just glared into the trees. It was still too quiet for me. "If you milk drinkers don't sing along to this Gods' damned song, I promise I'll behead you all myself," I shout out.
"And so then came clashing and slashing of steel, as the brave lass Matilda charged in full of zeal
And the braggart name Ragnar was boastful no more, when his ugly red head rolled around on the floor!
And the braggart named Ragnar was boastful no more, when his ugly red rolled around on the floor!"
Everyone including the Imperials sang the last lines. We were already stopped in Helgen in front of the chopping block, citizens watching morbidly. I can gladly state that the captain was not amused, especially since her soldiers were singing along. She angrily called for the prisoners to be lined up. Each cart had its own list to be called off, and we so happened to be the last to go through, thanks to the star of today's execution.
"Ralof Woodshire of Riverwood, Lokir Lowvein of Rorikstead, Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak of Winterhold, and wait. You," he says grabbing my attention from my cloud watching. "Who are you?"
"Vulen," was my reply. He looks at me expectantly, and with a glint of curiosity.
"Vulen what? What is your surname? Or maiden name?"
"I don't have one."
"Well, where are you from? Hammerfell? You seem like the sellsword a name like that, you must be from the Isles if not?
"I don't know," I state with a shrug. He just stares at me stupidly.
"You don't know," he says back slowly, as if he's trying to understand why the Dwemers disappeared. "Are you sure? We have to have a place to send your remains."
" I do not know, Nord," I say again a little harshly. He caught my rising temper and turned to his superior.
"Ma'am, she's not on the list," he reported softly. She turned to face me and looked me up and down, then stared me dead in the eyes. She had a dangerous look swirling in the hazel colouring.
"I don't care, she goes to the block as well," she snapped at the man. When he went to argue her glare quickly put him in his place and he simply nodded.
"Everyone to the block!" she ordered. Lokir's nerves must have fired out, because he chose this time to break the line and run to the gate for an escape. He didn't get too far before he was shot down by Imperial archers. I couldn't help but laugh when he fell and neither can some of the soldiers. He was so dramatic up to his last breath, cursing everyone and everything from the Gods to his own legs for failing him as he tried to crawl to the gate then finally slump with a loud 'oof'.
Despite the deathly serious situation, there were still some amused smiles in the crowd. The priestess started going throughout the last rites when a distant thunder interrupted, she tried again only to be stopped again by a Stormcloak's impatience. His end was swift and clean as the giant of a man swung his axe down on his neck. As the head landed in the basket, the thunder returned louder, but this time it didn't sound like thunder.
"Next prisoner," the captain called off. When she sees everyone's attention is still on the sky, searching, she pushes me forward. "I said, next prisoner."
Time slows as I'm pushed to my knees. Blood rushes in my ears blocking out everything else and the next breeze freezes me to the bone. For a second, it even feels like I'm suffocating, then heat.
STRUN BAH QO!
My senses come rushing back full force, as if a mammoth ran into me then its giant clubbed me after.
First came my hearing. There's screaming surrounding me. From men, women, and children. There's crying, and the sound of giant wings beating. Stone breaking, wood snapping…
Then touch. It's hot, scorching. My skin feels like it's sitting in a campfire, but it doesn't hurt, it only feels like a warm embrace, as if it's the perfect day and the sun is lightly kissing your skin.
Taste. It tastes like ash. Like a badly burnt piece of meat sat in the fire too long then dipped in the remains then rolled in the hottest peppers of Nirn.
The smell, I think the smell will always haunt me. I take pride in my unusual sense of smell, but now I wish it stayed gone. The burnt smell of flesh, scares me. It's the first sign I get that something is wrong, more than the few loose shards in my bones. The smell is the best. The ash is strong and the burning wood has the pairs perfectly as an underlying tone.
The sight is enough to give a daedra nightmares, but if it wasn't morbidly beautiful... The fire eating at the wooden homes burn brightly, even as the sun sits high in the sky. The chaos of people running every which way to escape the tragedy happening. Those same people tripping over dead or dying people and rubble. The once strong stone walls and towers, reduced to boulders and pebbles. A giant black mass flying around, spraying white flame onto the world. Then his attention turned to me, burning red eyes full of hatred.
"Vulen. Vulen! This way!" Turning, I see Ulfric motioning to the only standing watchtower. I push myself off my knees and make a mad dash for the small haven. I had to slide into a stop to keep myself from running into the wall and other survivors.
"Jarl Ulfric, could it be? From the legends?" a soldier asks from the back.
"Legends don't burn down towns," was his only reply as he started motioning to go up. We weren't even halfway up the tower before black scales broke through grey stone and fire followed after.
"Through the hole Vulen, I'll follow." Taking no thought, I jump. Falling out of trees taught me how to land without killing yourself or breaking anything in the process. Even if I was still bound. Seriously, no one picked up a knife or sword in the midst of this? How in Oblivion did everyone else get free, because it looks like I'm the only one still restrained. Not okay. And since when did this place turn into a fucking maze. Wait, found the training-
Ow. Sitting up, I saw the list guy. We stared at each other for a few brief seconds, and at the door leading to the inside of the keep across the training yard. Then back to each other. I don't know who moved first, but we were almost to the door when Ralof ran past us, not even looking back, black shadow following close behind landed on the wall. We pushed ourselves against the wall as much as the hard stone would take us, which wasn't much. Thankfully he didn't linger long and we were able to slip inside.
Taking a look around, we decided it was safe enough to take a breather. My escape partner stalked toward me with an iron dagger. Not taking a chance, I automatically get in a defensive stance. He immediately stops and raises his hands. Relaxing a little, he tossed the knife to me. Finally, my hands are free!
"We're inside the barracks. Look around, there should be plenty of supplies laying around," he advises. I passed on the armor, the last thing I need is people to start attacking me on sight because I'm wearing red. I did take advantage of one the pocketed knapsacks laying around. There was plenty of food, gold, and small potions lying around. Grabbing a sword off the wall, I make a motion for us to move into the next room. We jogged through the hallways until we could hear voices. We peeked around the corner to see blue uniforms.
"Stormcloaks. Maybe we can reason with them," he suggested. I was going to tell him off but it might just work. I nod and tell him to stay put for the time being. I slowly move out with my hands raised.
"Hey! We're just trying to make our way through, can we pass?"
The men jumped up in surprise, their pillaged weapons at the ready. When they recognized me, they relaxed slightly. They were about ready to respond until they tensed back up. On a whim I so happened to look behind me and there was my escort through this hellhole. I mentally sighed and cursed him. They made motion to the opposing soldier.
"Wait!" Once again their attention was on me. "He's with me. So you can let us both through, yeah?" For a moment it seemed as if they were going to deny us both, but the weapons lowered. They had no motivation to fight after what just happened outside. I could see the disbelieving shock in their eyes as they moved to the side and sat back down.
Unfortunately any and every other soldier that we met after weren't as compromising. The next half hour was spent moving through Helgen's keep and looting supplies for when we escaped. Finally we made it to the torture room held in the dungeons. The several minutes spent arguing with an old man had solidified my dislike for this war.
Needless to say, I was quick to leave through the open hole in the wall at the end of the hallway. Like many places in Skyrim, it looks like they made use of the many caverns and systems and built into it. It's also sad but expected that there would be more fighting. I can't believe that there's a giant fire-breathing reptile flying around above ground and these people can't set aside their differences long enough to at least escape. After moving through the rest of the keep, a new bow, a pack frostbite spiders, and a bear later, we finally escaped.
Hadvar decided to set up camp and I decided to stick with him. We weren't too far along when a black shadow passed overhead. I know my companion doesn't notice it, but Alduin stared right into my eyes. How do I know its name?
"All done! Even managed to russell up some rabbits."
"You know you didn't need to go hunting right? I did get food on our way out and we did just kill a bear," I explained as I pulled out food and drink from the bag. He only shrugged as he sat down by the fire and properly introduced himself. We had small talk before the fire started dying down, deciding we should sleep now to be up with the sun.
We continued our journey before the sun came up and by mid morning, we were met by three large stones. They seemed to emit a strange energy, almost vibrating. Hadvar explained that these were called Guardian Stones of the Standing Stones and they dotted all around Skyrim. He wasn't too sure if there was any out of the province but knew there was plenty here. Only the worthy and the strong can use the power the gods blessed men so long ago through the stones. By sun down we made it to the village of Riverwod.
There was a small wooden wall with a bit of stone as reinforcement surrounding the village, each end meeting the river's edge. It seemed like a close knit community with the biggest attraction being the lumber mill that took up the whole riverside of Riverwood.
"Uncle Alvor!" Hadvar yelled as we passed the gate to a man pounding away at the forge. I watch as the man's face brightens through the dirt and grime then falls.
"Shor's Stone, boy! What happened? And who's this?" Taking a glance at me, then looking around to make sure no one noticed the disheveled soldier.
"Not here, inside," he whispers into his uncle's ear as he walks into the house, prompting for us both to follow. We were met with a child jumping up and stealing a hug from her cousin and an older version coming up the stairs. We locked eyes as I flashed a small smirk. She made bowls of stew for everyone and offered me a seat.
I sat down as Hadvar told the events of what happened the day prior. A look of disbelief settled on his face until his nephew swore the truth by the gods. He quickly offered bedding to his kin. The offer was extended to me, but I politely declined.
"Do I have your blessing to use your forge though?" I ask, finishing up the meal, ready to leave.
"Aye, what is mine is yours, short of my wife," he jokes. He must have seen me and his wife staring at each other. Same sex relationships weren't fround apon in Skyrim like in some other places. With a strained smile, I leave and take a deep breath of fresh air. The smell of the White Rive's water was strong, mixing with the evergreen and pine trees that were recently cut.
I made my way to the inn across the road cutting through the middle of the village. I slightly relax at the soft lighting and the light strumming of the resident bard's lute. With the pillaged gold from Helgen, I pay for my stay for the next week. Retreating to the large room provided, I burrow under the furs, falling asleep. Only this time, it wasn't a dragon with red eyes that met my gaze.
