Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to TES. Bethesda does.
Hey everyone! Hope you all had a wonderful Christmas holiday with family and loved ones. It was difficult to find the time to write, but I did it! Here's another chapter.
Happy New Years! Here's to a great 2012!
Chapter 2: The Legends Were True
I sensed light through closed eyelids as I regained consciousness. I felt nauseated, my stomach queasy and in knots.
A horse snorted, the repetitive click clack sound as its hooves hit the ground. The jarring movements from rolling over rocks and holes caused my head to bounce off the wooden bench I rested on. Wherever I was, I was moving. This wasn't good.
I struggled to pry open my eyes. The sun overhead blinded me. I could only make out various shades of grey as my eyes adjusted. Ugh, I felt like shit.
The arrows that struck me were laced with poison. I could smell the nightshade on the arrowhead. I knew the archer who stuck me wasn't in the mood to play. Damn Imperials. The poison was strong enough to penetrate my Savior's Hide protective enchantments.
My head lolled to the side. Sitting across from me was a large, muscled, blond Nord male. He was quietly conversing with someone near me. I couldn't see who the other person was let alone understand what the Nord was saying.
I attempted to blink the grogginess from my eyes. My body felt heavy and incredibly sore. My energy had been zapped out of me, sucked dry, leaving me weak and fragile. I couldn't even muster up a simple restoration spell for the life of me. Damn that fetching poison.
The blond Nord noticed my half-assed attempt to wake up. His blue eyes locked onto mine and he leaned forward. He's saying something to me, but I could not make out the words. Why were his hands bound?
I tried to sit up but my encumbered body refused to cooperate. "Sleep," the Nord said. My eyes rolled back, eyelids fluttering closed, and I welcomed the embrace of sleep as I slipped into unconsciousness.
My eyes snapped open. I instantly sat up, eyes darting around and trying to make sense of my surroundings. My hands were bound, tied up in rope. Where the fetch was I?
"Look who decided to finally wake up?" the blond Nord joked.
"What in Oblivion is going on?" I panicked. Did I just panic? Yes, yes I did. If anyone was able to catch me by surprise and bind me, I would be in serious trouble because these things never happen to me. I mean ever. I'm the hunter. Not the hunted. This was not good.
I was still in a daze. This all felt like a horrible dream. I glanced around at the others in the wagon. There were two other Nord men and a Breton male. The very same Breton male who ransacked my camp. All bound and tied.
"You...," I spat at the Breton, glaring at him in ire. "You fetching s'wit!" I tried to stand up so I could strangle the wretched male. His intense glare cut through me. It was clear he wouldn't go down without a fight.
"Pipe down, little lady," he teased. "Wouldn't want to bruise that pretty face of yours."
I jackknifed to my feet. I was going to introduce the Breton to my fist, regardless if my hands were bound. Instantly I felt wobbly and my vision blurred.
A pair of strong, bound hands gripped onto my arm and yanked me into him, stopping me from kicking the Breton's teeth in.
"Easy, little one," the man whispered. "Save the strength you have." He released my arm once he felt certain my fury had quelled. He wore a braid at each temple in his unkempt, dirty blond hair. His presence commanded power and respect, his eyes a soulful, piercing blue.
"You settle down back there!" shouted the Imperial steering the wagon.
I instantly regretted getting worked up. Nausea coursed through my stomach and my head became fuzzy.
"You're feisty," the blond Nord chuckled. "I like that."
I shook the daze out of my head. "What's going on? Who are you people?"
"I'm Ralof," the blond Nord said. "The one sitting next to you is Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak. You and the Breton were caught crossing the Skyrim border by the Imperials. The two of us," he motioned to himself and Ulfric. "Were in the battle with the Imperial Legion. Him over there," he pointed at a bewildered looking Nord male sitting across from me. "He was caught stealing a horse."
"I wasn't stealing!" screeched the thief. "How many times do I have to tell you? I wasn't stealing?" He turned to me. "We shouldn't be here!" He turned to Ulfric then to Ralof, "This is your war, Stormcloaks. Not mine. I shouldn't be punished with you!"
"Talk won't get you anywhere, thief," replied Ralof. "All I know is Sovngarde awaits me."
He was taking about Sovngarde? Oh, great. Today was not my day to die.
The thief turned to Ulfric "This is your fault! You killed the High King! You brought civil war amongst the citizens of Skyrim. You and him," he angrily pointed Ralof. "Should be sent to death."
"Don't speak to Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak in that tone," boomed Ralof, anger radiating from him. "He's our future and rightful High King. Show respect!"
The Breton placed his head in his hands and sighed heavily. "This was the wrong time to come to Skyrim."
"Really?" I replied, annoyance seethed from me. "I'm still going to smash your face in once I get untied."
"She's a tigress," chuckled Ralof.
The Breton gave me a wink and a smug grin. I sighed and sat back against the wooden wagon seat and worked on loosening the bonds around my wrists. No such luck. I wiggled my fingers to cast a small flame spell. Only a small plume of smoke emitted from the palms in my hands. This. Was. Perfect. No strength to fight my way out of here. No magicka to cast a simple destruction spell. And where was my damn dog? Fang never leaves my side for this long.
After quite some time, we were carted into a small town. The dreary, stone encampment walls loomed over us as we passed through. The atmosphere felt heavy and dense with a gloomy fog blanketing the town. Ralof mentioned this town was Helgen.
I'd hate to live in a place like this.
Citizens whispered to one another staring, pointing at us. Some giggled. Others shook their heads in disgust. I heard "rebels" murmured a couple of times.
Once the horses came to a halt, Imperial guards surrounded the wagon and began shouting at us to dismount. One by one the men jumped down onto the muddy, gravel street. Dizziness and nausea still overwhelmed me as I tumbled off the wagon. The Breton caught my arm and saved me from face planting into the gravel below.
"Whoops-a-daisy, beautiful," he joked as he helped me regain my balance and steady my feet.
I jerked my arm out of his grasp. "Touch me again, and I'll cut off your hand."
"Ralof of Riverwood," an Imperial guard stated, sounding bored and obvious he'd rather be anywhere else.
Ralof stepped forward. The Imperial guard scribbled on the parchment with a charcoal pencil.
"You've been charged for your involvement with the Stormcloaks and in the rebellion against the Empire and the Imperial Legion," continued Hadvar. "For your crimes, you've been sentenced to death."
Imperial glanced up. "Wait a minute. You're Ulfric Stormcloak."
"He goes to the block, Hadvar," interrupted the female Imperial Captain as she walked up to the guard. "For your crimes against the Empire, nothing would please me more than to see your head roll."
Both Ralof and Ulfric were ushered off with a group of prisoners leaving myself along with the Breton and the thief behind.
"I don't deserve to be here!" shouted the thief. He took off in a dead sprint down the cobble streets. Before he got far, the Imperial archers shot him full of arrows, killing him instantly.
Hadvar faced me, arching an eyebrow, curious who I was.
"I'm not on your damn list," I spat.
"Send her and the Breton with the others to the block," the Captain said, waving her hand in dismissal. "They'll share the same fate as the others."
"Well, at least we'll die together," joked the Breton as a guard shoved us towards the other prisoners sentenced to death.
I rolled my eyes. I couldn't believe my two hundred and fifteen years of existence was ending because of this twerp. I couldn't go out like this. Mother would be disappointed. Gods, my father would be mortified if he knew his daughter, his own flesh and blood, was caught and killed by an inferior race like the Imperials. Even though Hircine wanted me dead, he still wouldn't wish an embarrassing death like a stupid beheading by Imperials to befall me. No sir indeed.
I tried once more to summon a fire spell, even a simple shock spell, but nothing but a minute sizzle and spark emitted from my fingertips. I groaned in frustration. I still felt ill from the poison. If I somehow got out of this, I would summon Hircine and tell him his Savior's Hide was complete crap. I'm sure he'd love to hear that.
The feeling of impending doom was tangible amongst the prisoners sentenced to death. All of us prisoners stood waiting for our fates to be delivered by the large man who was leaning against a massive, silver ax.
A prisoner was shoved to the block. The Imperial guard kicked his legs out from under him, dropping the prisoner to his knees. The guard then slammed the prisoner's head onto the beheading block, the executioner looming overhead with the ax ready in his hands.
"Today is a good day to die," said Ralof proudly as he gazed up at the sky. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, savoring the little time he had left to live. "I am happy we will die for our cause. For our rebellion." He raised his voice, ensuring the surrounding guards heard him. "You Imperials can't take Skyrim from the Nords nor will you take Sovngarde from me."
I watched in awe as the executioner brought down the silver ax onto the neck of a prisoner. So clean. So...dead. The headless body slumped to the blood-stained ground.
A faint sound in the distance perked my interest, tearing my attention away from the severed body laying motionless in the wet gravel. What in Oblivion was that? It sounded like a lion roaring...but in the sky?
I glanced over at Ralof and Ulfric. They too must have heard the same sound since their gazes faced upward towards the heavens.
"You, the female Nord, you're next," the Captain snapped her fingers and pointed to the chopping block. The executioner rested the ax on his shoulder, eagerly waiting to lob off my head. I could tell he loved his job.
My eyes scanned the sky as two guards pushed me towards the block. I could hear the roaring coming closer. Whatever it was, it was big. And it was coming right towards Helgen.
Pure chaos. That's the only way to describe the mayhem.
A large booming crash caused massive stone blocks from the building before us to tumble to the ground. My eyes widened in awe at the sight of the largest beast I've ever seen. Before me, less than twenty feet away was a terrifying, onyx dragon, plated with thick scales and covered with jagged horns. It opened its maw and bellowed a earthshaking roar, announcing it's presence to everyone within Helgen's walls.
The legends were true. Dragons existed.
Citizens screamed as they scrambled to safety. Imperial archers drew back the strings to their bows and launched arrows at the massive beast. Guards and soldiers scurried to control the prisoners as they began to take cover from the falling tower stones.
"Run!" Ralof grabbed my arm and jerked me up to my feet then dragged me behind him with the Breton in tow. Ulfric was a few paces in front of us.
My instincts to survive, to preserve my life, kicked into overdrive. The hunt was on. Unfortunately I was the prey. The poison effects from the arrowheads quickly diminished as my will to live dominated my senses.
Plumes of scorching hot fire poured from the dragon's gaping mouth, igniting anything and everything on fire. Screams echoed through the town as it's citizens fled the infernos.
Adrenaline pumped through my veins as my group of escaping fugitives dodged Imperial guards and fiery obstacles. The dragon roared and flapped it's iridescent wings, fanning the fires, causing them to spread to other buildings and homes.
I focused energy in my palms, summoning a simple flame spell. Instantly a small fireball erupted in my palm, burning through the thick cord that bound my hands. Yes! I felt relieved. My magicka had returned.
"Ulfric," I yelled trying to grab his attention. He spun around to face me. I grabbed his wrists and burned the rope, freeing his hands. He gave me a nod in thanks as he rubbed his raw wrists. I turned to do the same to Ralof's bindings but the Breton was already burning through the cord with a small flame spell.
"Ulfric, you traitor, halt!" shouted Hadvar stepping in front of us. He unsheathed his sword, readied to strike. "I can't let you or the others escape."
"Quit being a fool, Imperial," shouted Ulfric. He stuck his arm out holding me back, protecting me from the Imperial's reach. "This isn't a time for heroism. We're getting out of here and you're not stopping us."
The Imperial turned to me. "If you want to live, woman, come with me."
The Breton shoved his way to the front of the pack. "I've had enough of this. Get out of our way, damnit!"
Hadvar raised his sword to attack, but the Breton was too quick for him. A shock spell sprang from his fingertips and slammed into the the guard's chest, causing him to fly backwards, the wind escaping his lungs as he impacted the ground.
"Let's go," shouted Ulfric.
The dragon continued to breathe fire, burning down homes, shops and buildings in Helgen. We had to get out of there quickly, but the beast blocked every possible passage of escape. The main gates were ablaze. Buildings and towers crumbled as the dragon smashed them with its powerful tail, blocking streets. The dragon leapt to the ground to snap up anyone within reach, devouring them whole. Cries rang throughout the hold as citizens desperately searched for an escape.
"In here," Ralof shouted as he opened a wooden door to the Imperial Keep. Ralof slammed the door shut and barricaded it once we were inside.
I quickly scanned the room, searching for a weapon. Leaning against two barrels rested a long bow. I grabbed the weapon, hastily ran my fingers over the wood looking for cracks and splinters. I pulled back the string to test the tautness and released, the strings bouncing back. Not the greatest craftsmanship, but it will work.
"Here," the Breton yelled as he tossed a quiver full of iron arrows towards me.
I caught the quiver and secured it to my back. "Would be better if they were the bone arrows you stole from me, Breton."
He gave me a sheepish grin as he sheathed an iron dagger in the holder on his tunic. Ulfric and Ralof found swords for themselves and were waiting for us at the end of a narrow hallway off the main room.
"We have to split up," said Ralof. "It will be harder for the dragon to catch us if we remain in smaller groups. Not to mention the damn Imperials are still out there, well, what's left of them anyways." Ralof chuckled.
I nodded in agreement. There's no doubt Imperial guards were not only out there attempting to fight the dragon, but they also wouldn't hesitate to kill the escaping prisoners.
Today was not my day to die.
"Ralof and I will go together," said Ulfric. "If you need anything, sister, come find me in Windhelm. I could use someone like you in my court and fight the Imperials as a sister Stormcloak." Ulfric held out his hand, my hand grasped his forearm and his grasped mine in a forearm shake.
"If you survive," joked Ralof. "My sister, Gerdur, lives in Riverwood. Ask for her as she'll make sure your stomachs are full and you have a place to rest. It was a pleasure to meet you, tigress," Ralof smacked me on the back. Hard.
"Yea, you too," I muttered.
With that, Ralof and Ulfric turned and ran out of the corridor into the next room and out of the shop. Faint screams and guttural roars could still be heard outside, which meant the dragon was still out there.
"Well it's just you and me, little lady," the Breton said, wiggling his eyebrows and a smirk across his lips. "After you." He bowed, extending his arm out.
I rolled my eyes in annoyance.
"Just don't get me killed, Breton," I scoffed as I walked past him and out of the corridor. "And stay out of my way or else you'll get an arrow in the back of your head."
"I have a name, you know," huffed the Breton as he followed me.
"Don't care," I waved my hand, dismissing him as I charged out of the building and onto the street outside. "Don't want to know."
Outside it was pure mayhem. Charred bodies littered the damp, cobble streets. Shop booths and wagon vendors were crackling and popping as fire consumed them. Buildings, towers as homes lay in rubble. People wailed in agony as their whole lives collapsed in front of them. The Imperial guards shouted commands to one another, firing arrows at the dragon perched on a crumbling guard tower. Helgen reeked of death.
I crept along the side of the building, scanning for a way out of Helgen. The Breton followed me, staying low to diminish his silhouette. I preferred him this way. Quiet. I couldn't wait to get out of here and lose the twerp. He had been nothing but trouble since he looted my camp. A constant pain in my ass.
I could hear the roars coming from the far opposite side of the hold. Now was our chance to escape while the dragon was occupied.
"I say we make a run for it. Look over there!" He pointed to an opening in the hold wall. It was large enough for us to pass through easily. If we could get to it, we would be free. Not just free from Helgen, but free from the pursuit of the Imperials. Freedom was all I could think about.
"Follow me," I said quietly.
I took off at a full sprint, leaping over dead bodies and remains from Imperial soldiers and Helgen's citizens. I couldn't believe the carnage. Images of the Danes massacre from over two hundred cycles ago flashed through my mind. I vividly remembered the contorted faces of the dead clan men, women and children, suffering and agony carved into their expressions.
So many dead. My heart tore at the sight of the innocent children, bloodied and burned from the dragon's fiery breath. The noxious smell of burnt flesh intertwined with sulfur choked my senses. My feet pounded harder on the gravel as the Breton and I raced towards the wall opening. Just a little further and we'd be free.
I heard it long before I saw it. The dragon had returned. It jumped from one guard tower to another until it was directly in front of us.
"Keep running!" I shouted. "Get to the opening." I skidded to a stop as the dragon clumsily jumped to a toppled tower, roaring with such ferocity.
Usually in fight or flight situation, I hold my ground and fight. I always come out the victor. But in this situation, I was being an idiot. My instincts screamed from the back of my mind, begging me to run, but my pride kept me grounded, urging me to fight back.
The dragon's gleaming, demon red eyes locked onto mine. I lost my breath. Such wonderful yet terrifying beauty rested in the soul of this beast. It was a god. A god of cataclysmic destruction but also a part of the cycle of life. How beautiful.
I swear I saw the beast smile. Arrogantly. It felt me. Just like I felt it. Our connection was strong and instantaneous like the dragon was the missing component to my incomplete soul.
With my left hand I cautiously reached behind me and grabbed the long bow secured to my back, never breaking eye contact with the beast. I reached with my opposite hand into the quiver and pulled out an iron arrow and notched it. The dragon continued to watch me, taunting me, challenging me to attack. Slowly I aimed the arrow tip right between the beast's eyes. The dragon grunted gutturally as I aimed the arrow at it. Did it just laugh at me?
"What in Oblivion are you doing, woman?" screeched the Breton. The twerp should have kept running.
I ignored him. Shut him out of my mind. All my concentration focused on the dragon.
Inhale...Exhale... Inhale... Ex...hale...
As I let my breath pass over my lips, I released the string from my fingers, sending the arrow sailing towards the dragon. Instantly I grabbed a second arrow, notched it and let it fly. The arrows simply bounced off the hard scales protecting the dragon's face. The simple iron arrows were unable to penetrate the thick armor.
I readied a third arrow, aiming carefully. If I could just strike...right...between...the eyes.
"Zu'u hin daan, Dovahkiin!" growled the beast.
I froze. Oh, Talos. It spoke. Not only did it speak, but I understood it. I understood every word, every syllable, even though it was in a foreign tongue. But I understood it.
"I am your king, Dragonborn."
How did I understand that? What's more, it called me Dragonborn. I've heard old Nordic legends of the heroes who possessed the Thu'um, the Voice. My mother used to tell me bedtime stories about men with unbelievable courage and strength who could harness the power of the dragons. But that's all they were to me, just stories.
I stood there mesmerized, enchanted, staring at the massive dragon. The beast opened it's giant jaws and inhaled deeply. Was it about to speak again?
"YOL TOOR SUHL!"
A massive, blazing ball of fire erupted from the dragon's mouth. I froze. I was paralyzed, Completely entranced with the dragon. I knew I was in danger, yet I didn't care. I welcomed the fire and heat with open arms. Such beauty.
Before I could blink, I was tackled to the ground, air escaping my lungs as a heavy body collided on top my own. I opened my eyes to witness the fire blast soar overhead. I'm pretty confident that massive inferno attack would have killed me. Easily.
"Dovahkiin, hin kah fen kos bonaar!" the dragon roared, leaping into the air and flapping it's jagged, gossamer wings. With a few pumps of it's wings, the dragon flew from the destroyed town of Helgen.
"Dragonborn, your pride will be humbled." The words echoed in my mind.
The mass on top of my grumbled in pain. It was the Breton. He dove into the path of the fire to save me from being consumed by flames and burnt to a crisp. The Breton. The man who stole from me. The man who I hunted down into Skyrim. The man who I vowed to kill, saved me.
At that moment, I absolved him. He was forgiven.
I tried to wiggle out from under his body. He was a lot heavier than I expected.
"Get up," I ordered. That was a harsh thing to say to someone who just risked his life for a complete stranger. An incredibly, ungrateful stranger.
He lifted his head, his deep green eyes gazing into my own. Relief, confusion, then anger flickered across his face. After a few seconds he tore away and pushed himself up to his feet. He quickly scanned my body, checking for any obvious cuts, broken bones and wounds.
"You're one crazy skeever, you know that?" he scolded as he extended his hand to help me up. When I grasped his hand, I felt the strange tingle of a healing spell seep into me, curling through my limbs and curing all pain and bruises. The twerp was a mage.
"I'm fine," I mumbled as I wiped the mud out of my hair with my free hand. "No need to worry."
I tried to pull my hand away from his grasp but he held on tight. He took a step towards me, closing the distance between us and narrowed his eyes at me. He was pissed.
"No, what you did was not fine," the Breton insisted. "You are not fine. What you did was fetching stupid. You could have been killed by Arkay's sake!"
Annoyance surged through me. My hands balled into fists at my side. I didn't let my anger show. No point to let him know he got to me. No point to get emotional.
"Okay," I calmly said, a blank look on my face.
The Breton looked at me with anticipation, expecting me to continue talking, apologize, anything but respond with a simple "okay." I shrugged my shoulders indicating I had nothing left to say.
He threw up his hands, exasperated and turned to walk towards the opening in the damaged wall.
"A fetching dragon!" he exclaimed. "You tried to take on a fetching, fire breathing dragon."
I sighed and followed him out of Helgen and into the forests of Skyrim.
-0-
I have a beta reader so after he cleans everything up for me I'll repost the chapters. Thanks again for reading. Hope to hear your reviews because they will help keep me motivated. I start school again in January so I may be a little slow on the updates but new chapters will be posted as soon as possible.
-Lady Luna83