Well here is another chapter. I hope you enjoy. This chapter is a bit more AU but I tried to follow most of the Elder Scrolls lore.

Thank you for the review, as for the romance it still not decided, so go ahead and throw out names if you wish.

Well hope to hear from!

Slowly he came to; the first thing he noticed was the rattle of a wagon. That didn't sound good, was his first thought. He opened his eyes, the bright light hitting them sharply. He groaned in pain and annoyance.

"Good, you're finally awake," the burly man he had first met when he entered the camp commented. Jorik glanced around him, his hands were tied, and he scowled fiercely. Across from him a scrawny man that looked like a good gust of wind could blow him over sat there looking desolate. Beside him sat the Jarl of Windhelm, gagged. This wasn't looking good, he thought with annoyed sigh.

"When I find out who hit me in the head, they won't be feeling that well when I am finished," Jorik grumbled. He smirked as he heard the burly man chuckled.

"I don't think you'll have a chance for that," The burly man said with a grin.

"Where are they taking us?" The scrawny man asked sounding desperate.

"Who knows, but we are heading towards Helgen from the looks of it," Jorik answered, sorrow building in him. He would see his family, but at what cost. The last note said his father wasn't doing well and his mother was worn thin. Now they would see their son's death, he hoped they saw nothing and stayed indoors.

"You said that was where you're from," the burly man commented.

"Aye, my parents and sister still live here. My father is dying and my mother has worn herself out aiding him. Neither of them has long left," Jorik answered quietly, his worry and sorrow lacing his words. Silence fell for a few moments before the thief spoke once more.

Jorik eyed the burley man and smirked. They were about to die at least he could know the man's name. He couldn't believe he didn't ask while staying at their camp, but it hadn't even crossed his mind. "What's your name?"

"Ralof, I'm from Riverwood," he answered and watched Jorik look at him thoughtfully. He knew Jorik was from Helgen, but didn't remember ever meeting him as a lad or man.

Jorik nodded, and turned his attention back to the thief when he began talking.

"And what's wrong with him, huh?" Lorik said staring at the gagged man. Jorik had wondered for a moment why he was gagged, but then he remembered that Ulfric had killed the high king with his voice, if what his told him was true.

"Watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king." Ralof snapped harshly. Jorik kept silent, he didn't agree that Ulfric was the true high king. He thought over his predicament, it was true they wouldn't have been in this mess if the war hadn't been happening. But he should have left, and he didn't, so he could blame no but himself.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion." Lokir ranted desperately, his plight fully coming to realization of what was about to happen. "But if they captured you…. Oh gods, where are they taking us?"

"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." Ralof murmured softly. Jorik sighed, he had no choice, but to agree with that statement.

"No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening." Lokir cried desperately, Jorik looked at him in disgust, for a Nord he was a coward. Jorik was happy when silence finally fell. He turned his attention to the Jarl to find those sky blue piercing eyes watching him intently. He didn't know what the Jarl was looking for, but there was no way to find out.

"Hey, what village are you from horse thief?" Ralof ask kindly, pity could be seen in the burly Nord's face.

"Why do you care?" Lokir mumbled desolately.

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home," Ralof tells him. Jorik agreed, it should be of home. A home he hadn't seen in years and probably wouldn't see again.

"Rorikstead. I'm… I'm from Rorikstead." Lokir answers, his voice hesitant as he stutters. Pity welled up in Jorik, he didn't understand why this man was so afraid of death. It was a natural thing, he should be happy that he's dying on Nord soil and not somewhere far from home.

"General Tullius, sir! The headman is waiting!" An Imperial guard states. Jorik looked up and found Imperial's lining the wooden walls of the gate to Helgen. He closed his eyes, home, he was home, but for how long?

"General Tullius, the Military Governor." Ralof spat disgustedly. "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this." Jorik smirked, it was so true, all Tullius needed was a rope around his neck so they could lead him.

Ralof turned sharply to Jorik, worry in his eyes. "It looks like our stop is Helgen," Ralof said quietly.

"Aye, it looks that way," Jorik murmured, closing his eyes for a moment asking the god to protect what time his parents had left.

"Hopefully your parents don't come out and see," Ralof murmured.

"If they do, the headsman will have three heads with one swing," Jorik bowed his head, silently saying his final farewells to his parents.

"Does your parents' have anyone else to help them?" Ralof asked.

"Yes, my sister. She wrote to me asking me to come home. That was one of the reasons I'm back here," Jorik told him. He looked around the area as the wagon moved, Helgen hadn't changed much, it was still as he remembered it. His eyes met a child and he hoped the child wouldn't witness what was about to happen. He remember the lad vaguely, seen him when he was but a few winters old. Jorik raised his eyes and met those of the father's, Jorlaf, an old friend since childhood.

"Jorik?" Jorlaf whispered worriedly.

"Who are they daddy? Where are they going?" child asks, his bright eyes meeting the one his father was looking at.

"You need to go inside child," Jorlaf said.

"Why? I want to watch the soldiers." Child whined, but Jorlaf never once took his eyes off Jorik's. It had been a long time since he saw his friend. He was glad Jorik was dying on Nord soil instead of Cyrodiil. Jorlaf worried for his parents, they had been looking for to Jorik's return. Word had spread quickly that he was coming home, many of the town's folk were looking forward to his return, but they never expected this. He could see the wealth of sorrow in his childhood friend's eyes and knew. He knew Jorik didn't belong with the Stormcloaks, but couldn't figure out why he was bound with them.

"Inside the house, Now!" Jorlaf snapped angrily. This was the last thing his son needed to see.

"Yes papa," Child pouted and sulked into the house.

Jorik turned to the Lorik when he heard him speak. He had to shake his head, this man was really giving Nord's a bad name. "Why are we stopping?" Lokir asked fearfully.

"Why do you think? End of the line." Ralof stated harshly. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us."

"No! Wait! We aren't rebels!" Lokir cried out fearfully.

"Quit sniveling like a coward and face your death like a man," Jorik snapped coldly.

"You got to tell them we weren't with you! This is a mistake." Lokir said looking beseechingly at Ralof.

"It wouldn't matter, they wouldn't believe him. You're going to die whether you wish it or not," Jorik spat belligerently.

"Jorik?" a soft voice called to him. He closed his eyes, this is what he'd been afraid of. His sister stood not a stone's throw away with his parents' right behind her. His mother was helping his father move towards him.

"Aye, finally made it home sis," he answered with a brave smile.

"No, they can't do this. You don't belong with the Stormcloaks," His sister stormed.

"At the moment I don't think it matters," Jorik told her. He flinched when an Imperial guard shoved her out of the way, trying to keep her from the prisoners.

"Interfere once more and you'll join him at the chopping block!" the captain stated coldly, before turning away and returning to the front of the crowd.

Jorik flinched when he heard his mother cry out. Everyone turned in her direction, Aden, his father collapsed to the ground holding his chest. Jorik moved quickly towards his parents, he didn't care what the Imperials did to him, his family needed him. He dropped to his knees beside his mother, his bound hands looping around her shoulders holding her close as she wept. Jorik watched the light slowly fade from his father's eyes. It sadden him that his father was taken like this, but he had expected it. He held his mother, allow her to weep, his sister was leaning against his one arm, his face buried in his shoulder as she wept for the loss of their father. Jorik showed no emotions, now wasn't the time.

"Remember this mother, I die on Nord soil close to home. Do not grieve me, I go to Sovngarde. I'll see father there and give him a lecture he won't forget, just for you," Jorik murmured quietly so only she and his sister could hear.

He glanced over his shoulder wondering why no one tried to pull him away. It seemed he had the attention of everyone and they were giving him his time. For that he was thankful.

Jorik vaguely listened as names were called. His would be soon. He rose to his feet taking his mother with him. "Sis, take her home. Neither of you need to see this," he told her quietly. He watched them leave and walked back to the line a faint smile on his face. He knew this wasn't the place to smile, but the inner voice he heard before was backing telling him something big was going to happen. The last time it said that, he had been knocked out and tied up. This time he didn't know what was going to happen, but he knew it would be interesting.

"You, step forward," an Imperial ordered pointing towards him. Jorik stepped forward, his head held high even though he was dressed in rags. He wasn't going to cower or show his turmoil to these men. "Who are you?"

"Jorik of Helgen," he announced, making sure his voice carried and all heard he had no fear of what was about to happen.

Jorik shook his head as the two Imperials argued between themselves about his fate. It seemed they had a list, and his name wasn't on it. He wondered with amusement if they had this written out before they arrested everyone. He nodded, still smirking when he was ordered to follow the captain. That voice within his mind was growing louder, it would be soon he knew.

Silence descended as the Imperial spoke. Jorik glanced around rapidly, he could feel something near, something calling to him. Something deep within him answered, wanted free, but couldn't.

Ulfric ignored Tullius, he was an annoyance, but what had caught his attention was Jorik. He was glancing around wildly, not in fear, but searching for something. Ulfric nudged Ralof, and nodded towards Jorik. They both watched intently as the other Nord searched.

That was when all heard it, a roar splitting the air. Ulfric looked up at the mounts the direction where the noise came from, but saw nothing. He turned his attention back to Jorik and found him staring intently at the mountains as well.

All fell silent as Jorik voice cut through the air, his eyes black as he stared at nothing, his voice deep and thundering, stopping all in their place. Ulfric's eyes widened as he stared at this Nord. He could swear that there was a glow to the nord as he spoke. He knew this voice wasn't Jorik's this voice was from elsewhere.

"When misrule takes the place of the eight corners of the world,

When the Brass Tower walks and time is reshaped,

When the thrice blessed foil and the Red Tower trembles,

When the Dragonborn ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls,

When the Snow Towers lies sundered, kingless, bleeding,

The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Lost Dragonborn." Jorik whispered the words that shouted in his mind. He could feel a presence, someone, or something not of here. He felt as if a god was standing next to him, forcing him to say these words. He didn't know but he knew he had no choice in the matter. When he came out of his trance or delusion, he wasn't sure which it was he found everyone everyone's attention on him. The words were still ringing in his head. What they meant he wasn't sure but he knew they were a prophecy of some type. For what he needed to find out. What scared him more was the presence was still with him, guiding him. Something told him what was happening now was very important and about to change everything.

They watched as one head fell into the basket from the first prisoner called. Jorik bowed his head in silent prayer and then raised his eyes as another roar rented the air. Jorik mind fogged, and words that made little sense to him even though they were in the common language reverberated through him, forcing him to speak the words. .

"Here stands my chosen one, blood and soul of both."

Jorik stumbled forward, barely catching himself as he came to and the voice in his head disappeared once more. He closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind and prepare himself for what was to come.

Once more everyone attention was on Jorik, most shifted uneasily, while others looked bewildered.

Ulfric stared at the lad. He knew, he didn't have to be told. This man was the Dragonborn. If he got free of this somehow, though he knew that was unlikely, he would need that man next to him in his stance against the Imperials.

"The Nord in rags step forward," the Captain announced. Her eyes narrowing on the man, all had heard what he said and she considered him too dangerous to be set free no matter what those words meant. . Most looked at him in awe, while other in fear. She glanced at General Tullius, to see what his reaction was.

Tullius had noticed how the Nords reacted to the Nord in rags words. Any Nord within his sight looked to this Nord in awe. He also noticed that Ulfric had taken an interest in the Nord also. He turned his attention back to the Captain ready to allow the man to go free, but his head was already on the chopping block.

Ulfric was watching intently. His gaze snapped to the top of one of the towers. A massive black dragon landed, with horns and spikes coming out of its body, massive black wings spread out. Dragon. He couldn't believe it, he was seeing a dragon.

"Alduin," He heard Jorik whisper, before the dragon let out a blast of fire and something else.

Ulfric couldn't wait around, this was his time to get to safety. He ran to another tower, away from the dragon's gaze. He watched from the door as Ralof stayed with the prisoner. He sighed in relief, they needed that man.

Ulfric backed away from the door as they both ran into the tower.

"Jarl Ulfric, what was that? Could the legends be true?" Ralof asked, his shock showing in his voice. Jorik waited for the answer. Could the legends be true? Oh yes, they were very true.

"Legends don't burn down villages," Ulfric stated, his gaze never leaving Joriks.

"Really, I'd hate to argue, but it seems like a legend is doing just that outside," Jorik spat glaring at Ulfric.

"You dare argue?" Ulfric growled, his deep voice holding a warning that most would heed. Jorik figured this out when he saw Ralof grow pale.

"Aye, I do. Alduin is back," Jorik growled, not backing down from the lethal look in the Jarl's eyes. "If he's not, explain to me, what in the nines is that outside."

Jorik shook his head disdainfully when Ulfric didn't answer. There was no answer he could give. He glanced at the other and then down at his bound hands and scowled. They needed out of here, this tower wouldn't last, he knew Alduin was looking for him. He didn't know how he knows, but he knew.

He turned for the stairs, he couldn't wait around here. "We need to get out of here," Ralof stated.

Jorik rolled his eyes, just what he was thinking. He ran up the stairs and stopped before coming to a window. He gasped when a dragon breathed fire into the tower. "Damn, that dragon isn't giving up," Jorik grumbled and rushed to the window when it was clear.

"Jump to the inn," Ralof told him.

He stared at the inn for a moment before jumping across. Thoughts of his sister filled him. He needed to find his family. He moved quickly through the inn and dropped down to the main floor. He stopped dead when he saw the dragon once more and also that Imperial that had been asking him the questions. He remembered the sadness in his eyes when he was told to forget the list and execute him anyways. That made him hesitate, this man could be a potential ally.

"Still alive prisoner?" The man asked with a relieved look.

"Looks that way," Jorik answered, moving closer to the other Nord. "Got a name?"

"Hadvar," The nord answered as he gave Jorik a searching look. He made his decision about the prisoner. "Follow me if you want to live Jorik. We'll try and find your family on the way," Hadvar yelled over the noise of the dragon.

"Thanks," Jorik yelled, back as they raced through an ally that he often ran through when he was a child. It was sad, he was relieving old memories as his village was being destroyed.

Jorik followed closely behind and hesitated as Hadvar led him through a ruined house.

His parents' house…. He walked in slowly, and stopped dead. Not three feet away from him where the two charred bodies. Jorik ran to the bodies, dropping to the ground in front of them. He was sure it was his sister and mother, but what made it positive was the necklace his mother wore. He had given it to her a long time ago. Jorik bowed his head and said a silent prayer to Akatosh to guide them safely to Sovngarde.

Hadvar noticed that the man wasn't right behind him. He backed tracked finding him in the house staring at two dead bodies. "I found them. They are in Sovngarde now," Jorik whispered before rising to his feet and continuing through the house. They both stopped at the door, Jorik hand firmly on Hadvar's shoulder, stopping from moving further.

"Zu'u Alduin. Pahlok joorre! Hin kah fen kos bonaar! Nust wo ni qiilaan fen kos duaan!" the dragon voice roared over the mayhem.

"Is he speaking?" Hadvar asked astonished.

"Yeah he is," Jorik answered quietly. Hadvar hesitated when he saw Jorik eyes go black, his voice went eerily deep as if another was speaking and not him. "Arrogant mortals! Your pride will be humbled. Those who do not bow will be devoured."

"How can you understand him?" Hadvar asked looking at him strangely. Jorik didn't answer right away, his eyes focused on the dragon. Hadvar watched as his eyes slowly changed back to a vibrant green, one eye still blind.

"Understand what?" Jorik asked, his voice was filled with confusion and fear at the incredulous look on Havdar's face. He just came home to help his family and find answers. This is what happens, you lose your family, and then legends return, breathing fire and decimating towns. Worse was, it seemed as if that dragon had been speaking to him.

"We need to find General Tullius," Hadvar stated, before leading the way once more. Jorik didn't say a word, but followed the Imperial. They found Tullius, and were ordered to the castle. He wasn't sure about entering the castle, he thought the best bet would be to head for one of the gates. He couldn't do that with his hands bound, so he had no choice but to follow.

He hesitated when he saw Ralof running towards them. He listened as the two argue. He wasn't sure who to follow, both had helped him, but he knew whoever he followed the other would probably be his enemy when they met up in the keep. Jorik bowed his head and followed Ralof into the keep.

"Was that really a dragon from legends?" Ralof asked more to himself than anyone else. He wasn't actually expecting an answer.

"Aye, it was," Jorik answered. It felt odd admitting that dragons had returned.

Rolaf watched Jorik, Ulfric had told him that they needed Jorik on their side. He needed to get this man safely out of Helgen. Rolaf wasn't sure why the Jarl had been so adamant, but Ulfric had made it sounds as if this man was important. He didn't know what to think of Jorik, especially when his eyes go black and he speaking as if he were another person or speaking dragon tongue. He would do his best to get Jorik out of Helgen, but that was the best he could do.

~oooooooooo~

Akatosh watched his chosen make his way through the crumbling castle. He had watched Jorik all his life, listened to his prayers and answered them when he could. He had shown Jorik his path when the high king of Skyrim died. The last foretelling of his son's return.

He knew he had chosen right. These people needed Jorik and he needed him. Now his true future would start and while his future unfolded he would watch and help when he could. It was the only thing he could do….

~oooooooooooo~

Jorik took a deep breath of fresh air as the exited the cave. Freedom, finally. Now he didn't know what to do or where to go. His home and family lay dead behind him. For the first time since everything started, his eyes burned. He turned back to where Helgen laid and watched as billows of smoke rose in the sky.

Everything gone.

Jorik walked slowly, he was in no rush now. He followed at a distance behind Ralof, the man was in a hurry to get away before more Imperials came. He turned his attention to Ralof when he stopped.

"You should hurry before the Imperials come," Rolaf said urgently.

"Ralof, I just lost everything - my family, my home in a few hours. If the Imperials catch me right now, I don't really care. They have bigger things to worry about," Jorik snapped coldly as he turned back to the smoking village in the distance. He shook his head sadly and continued on.

"You mean you have no one left?" Ralof asked.

"I had an uncle in Markarth, but he passed away last spring. My other sister was killed by bandits a year ago. And any other relatives I had died while I was gone. The last of my family was in that village," Jorik stated harshly. He didn't bother waiting for Ralof as he continued down the road. It would be pointless, he needed time to mourn, but he wasn't getting that.

He may never get that and that was a depressing thought.