Scales and Hearts | A Skyrim Fanfiction

Chapter One: Helgen's Downfall

Druthza

A day later...

The first thing I began to sense was the sounds around me, the familiar clopping noises of horse hooves and the creaking of a cart and its wooden wheels, the gentle breeze rustling the leaves on the trees, and the breathing of Nords could be heard close by. I realized that my hands were bound, I simply felt the rope tied round my wrists and quickly came to that conclusion as I began to shift ever so slightly in my seat upon the cart. I felt the slight chill in the air and I felt my pulse quicken as I further rose into consciousness, my tail swishing as I furrowed my brow.

I finally lifted my horned head and opened my eyes, my goldenrod-yellow eyes appearing dim from the overcast sky as I set my gaze on the pale, blonde Nord sitting in front of me, who was clothed in typical Stormcloak attire. His hazel eyes gazed upon me curiously as his eyebrows perked up, he too had his hands bound by rope.

He was a prisoner just like me.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake." He said, and I silently nod, my gaze drifting around the cart as I saw the Imperial soldiers off to my left leading our cart, and to my right were two more prisoners, one in rags like I was, the other was a gagged man wearing a fur cloak and he looked rather pissed to be here amongst a bunch of prisoners.

I don't blame him though, this was quite a situation to be in.

"You were trying to cross the border, right?" Asked the first Stormcloak, and I nod as I look at him again. "You walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us... and that thief over there." He gestured to the man in rags, who just glared at him.

"Damn you Stormcloaks, Skyrim was fine until you came along. The Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell! You there..." he looked at me, "you and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants!"

The first Stormcloak gave the man a deadpan expression, "we're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."

The Imperial driving our cart turned his head to glare at us four, "shut up back there!" He snapped, turning back to gaze at the path ahead. I heard the man in rags mumble something under his breath, something along the lines of: "what wrong with him?" as he gazed at the gagged Stormcloak.

"Hey- watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King." Barked the blonde Nord, causing the other man to raise his brow. "Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion." He said, gazing at the Jarl. "But, if they've captured you..." his brown gaze is suddenly full of fear, "oh gods, where are they taking us?"

"I don't know where we're going... but Sovngarde awaits." Spoke the Stormcloak solemnly, only causing the brown-haired man to panic even more. "No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening." I felt a bit of sympathy for the man, he obviously had the thought that he did not belong on this cart, he did not belong with a group of criminals on their way to be killed.

I had a feeling I didn't belong here either. Huh... I was still... oddly calm, perhaps my body understood there was no use in panicking, perhaps it understood that I would only be prolonging the inevitable if I panicked.

Yet, now that I think about it, I was truly a bit petrified about this whole thing, deep down, scratch that, I'm not as calm as I believed I was... I thought to myself as I briefly rested my horned head against the wall of the cart behind me, my goldenrod gaze was blank, my expression unreadable as I gazed skyward, letting out a small sigh from my lungs, which caught the attention of the Stormcloak.