Authors Notes:
Hello there! Thank you for taking the time to give my Skyrim fanfiction a chance. I have always wanted to write one and I finally decided to give it my best effort after being inspired by other works I have seen on this site.
This story is going to be a twist on not only how I play the game but also some of the things that I wish could've/would've happened. It will not follow the exact story line of the Dawnguard DLC but is heavily inspired by it.
Warning this will be a dark story as I believe the game intended it to be, but please leave a comment/review as I welcome the feedback.
Chapter 1 - Who Are You?
"Who are you?" The voice of an Imperial Soldier asked the Dragonborn after he got off the cart transporting himself and soldiers from the Stormcloak rebellion. The truth was that the Dragonborn had no idea who he was, the first thing he remembered was waking up on that damned cart with another prisoner commenting on how he was finally awake.
"I'm Ralof friend, it seems that you were caught in the Imperial ambush just like us while you were trying to cross the border." Ralof said introducing himself.
"I don't remember what happened. Where are we going?" The Dragonborn responded, trying his best to not show the fear that he felt. The fear of not knowing who he or anyone else was for that matter.
As the carriage was pulled along the road Ralof explained who he and the gagged man next to him were and why they were targets of the Imperial army.
"Fuck, if you're part of this rebellion and the man next to you is the leader, this Ulfric Stormcloak, then we are surly headed to our deaths." The Dragonborn said.
"Aye it would appear so." Ralof replied flatly. "Ah we're approaching Helgen, at least I'll meet my death in a familiar place with my brothers and sisters beside me."
The carriage pulled through the town and The Dragonborn vaguely remembered Ralof commenting on the Military Governor, General Tullius, sitting on his horse next to an elf who was a member of the Thalmor, whoever they were. The carriage finally came to a stop and everyone was ordered to get out.
After exiting the carriage the prisoners were marked off the list and ordered to wait at the block where they were to be beheaded. "Who are you?" A soldier wearing a set of leather armor asked The Dragonborn.
"Please there has to be some kind of mistake! I don't deserve to be here. I don't know who I am or who these people are" The Dragonborn replied as quickly as he could.
"Captain, what do we do? He's not on the list and he would be an extra prisoner that was never accounted for." The soldier asked puzzledly.
"Must be a mistake, forget it." The captain responded bluntly. "This Nord can join his kin in a swift death that is too good for the vile filth that they are." She said and spat in The Dragonborns face and led him to the lineup.
That was his first introduction to who the Empire is and what they were willing to do to those who may even be on the wrong side. The only reason he survived was that a dragon with scales as black as night ruby red eyes attacked the city moments before his head was to be beheaded. After escaping the city with Ralof, The Dragonborn set out to find out who he was and where he came from.
Two Years Later…
The Dragonborn stood alone leaning on the wooden table that resided in the outpost that had been previously occupied by Septimus Singus, a former mage with the College of Winterhold. After Septimus' death upon touching the Oghma Infinium, The Dragonborn took over his outpost as it was the perfect place to be alone with Tolfdir at the college being the only one who knew where he was.
It has been two years since waking up on that damned cart and he was nowhere closer in finding out who he is. He has learned of his power and role as the Dovahkin, or Dragonborn, which is how most people in Skyrim called him. He gained other titles as well on his vast search for knowledge. To the Companions he is known as Harbinger, to the College he was briefly known as the Arch-Mage before he passed the title to a member who was actually a master mage, and to the Thieves Guild he was their Guild Master and Nightingale.
The longer he went without answers the further the Dragonborn would retreat into darkness, both mentally and physically. He despised the fact that people in every town would practically worship him as he walked just because he could kill Dragons and steal their souls, the source of their power. Once he found out that he was the Dragonborn, the slayer of Alduin, he followed that path because he didn't think that there was any choice and he was there to fulfill some prophecy. That was, until Delphine told him that he had to kill Paarthurnax even after he told the Dragonborn how to defeat Alduin.
The Dragonborn and Paarthurnax battled Alduin on the Throat of the World together and won, but Alduin escaped to Sovngarde, the Nordic afterlife. Paarthurnax was seriously wounded due to the battle and the Dragonborn decided to converse with the old dragon before he made his decision.
"The Blades say you deserve to die." The Dragonborn said coldly.
"Ah, I understand why they believe this to be the case." Paarthurnax responded slowly. "Yet what do you think? I have helped have I not? Have I not changed in the way that no Dov has done before?"
"It doesn't matter what I think. My destiny is to rid Tamriel of dragons and while I do appreciate your help, you are still a dragon."
"Do what you believe you must but you control your own destiny, no one can make the Dragonborn do anything. It is up to you to decide who you are or who you will be."
Hearing his words the Dragonborn was left dumbfounded, he had never thought about what he wanted or should do. He has been following the path that others laid out for him. Without another word spoken the Dragonborn fled, not sure of his destination, but he simply ran until he could not run anymore.
After his conversation with Paarthurnax the Dragonborn decided to disappear from the public as best he could. He left most of his belongings in his house in Riften and outfitted himself with his Nightingale armor besides the hood. He needed something that gave off the same look as how he felt inside, the mask of the dragon priest Vokun allowed him to do exactly that. He went by the moniker Nightingale until he could find out who he was.
Nightingale looked at himself in the reflection of the ice in the outpost and removed Vokun to look at the face that he did not even recognize. He was a large man, even for Nord standards, standing at 6 foot 5 inches tall he stood taller than most of the men in Skyrim. He was in great physical shape with broad shoulders, he seemed to get more muscular with every dragon soul he absorbed. His eyes were ice blue, he was clean shaven, he had a long scar across the right side of his cheek from the claw of the first dragon he killed, his hair was shoulder length and a dirty blonde.
"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!" Nightingale bellowed into his reflection. Even without using the Thuum his voice had power, his yell echoed throughout the outpost causing ice to crack in front of him.
There was a knock at the entrance and Nightingale quickly put Vokun back on before heading to the hatch to see who dared to intrude.
Before he could get to the hatch Tolfdir came running down the ramp from the entrance. "My boy! I heard the commotion. Are you alright?" He asked with that caring look that he so often had.
"I'm fine." was all the response Nightingale gave the man.
Tolfdir did not believe him but knew better than to press Nightingale for any more information. "Anyways I hate to intrude but it seems that we have a bit of a situation that I believe could use your help."
"I'm not one to help anymore, you know this." Nightingale shot back.
Tolfdir took a step back with his hands up. "I know and I would not have come if the situation was not dire my boy. The college has been noticing an uptick in vampire attacks the last few months and we even just got word that the Hall of the Vigilant was decimated."
"Fucking vampires." Nightingale said with hate in his voice. "The last time I came across a pack of those blood suckers they were trying to take over Morthal." Nightingale hated vampires, they were a plague upon Tamriel whose only purpose was to kill without remorse and devour their victims.
"Yes I figured that's how you'd react to the news." an unsurprised Tolfdir replied.
"Well what do you want from me?"
"There is a group called the Dawnguard, they are trying to reform and have sent out scouts to all major towns and villages looking for anyone who wants to join them." Tolfdir continued. "They are in the old fort near Riften and I figured you would want in on hunting vampires."
Nightingale strapped his blade that Karliah gave him to his belt and started for the exit of the outpost. "You were right." He simply called down as he climbed out of the outpost.
That was the most pleasant interaction I have had with that man in a long time. Tolfdir thought to himself. "Plus I finally got him out of this forsaken hole in the ice.
Nightingale averted his gaze as the sun shone in his eyes, he knew it had been a while since he stepped outside but now thinking about it, it had probably been weeks since he went underground.
Now to find this Dawnguard and see what they are all about. Nightingale thought to himself. Finally something I want and choose to do.
He started the long trek to the fort on foot to stay away from as many people as he could.
