Beyond the Border

Three: To The Block

When Nolwenn finally awoke, she blinked rapidly, gaining her vision as she observed a blurry image of passing trees. Her head ached, but it was nothing unbearable.

"Hey, you!"

She glanced over at a blurry image of a man with long, blonde hair. He wasn't the leader, that much she could figure out. Luckily, her vision cleared, revealing a young man in blue armor.

"You're finally awake," he said, glancing her over, as if instinctively checking for visible wounds on her body.

Nolwenn merely groaned as a response.

The pale man smiled a bit, as if to reassure her. "You were trying to cross the border, right? ...walked right into that Imperial ambush... same as us, and that thief over there!"

Nolwenn followed the man's head notion to see a filthy individual  dressed in rags. She had not seen him during her observation, but perhaps he was as she was...sneaking around the soldiers, trying not to be seen. Clearly, that plan failed for them both.

"Damn you Stormcloaks... Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy... If they hadn’t been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and be half way to Hammerfell ," he griped out, glancing over at the young woman, “You there. You and me--we shouldn’t be here! It’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants.”

She glanced at the two other men in the carriage, the lower ranking man huffing in slight anger.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief," the man, now known to be a Stormcloak, said, putting an emphasis of distaste on the word 'thief'.

The Imperial soldier handling the horses up front growled in annoyance. “Shut up back there!”

Hearing the command caused the woman to freeze in fear, glancing downwards to hide her chattering teeth.

The thief glanced up at the man across from him, next to Nolwenn. She also glanced up at him, recognizing the man as the leader. Strangely enough, not only did they bind him like the rest, but they also wrapped a cloth around his mouth, preventing him from speaking. But why him? Why couldn't he speak during his last hour like the rest?

“And what’s wrong with him?" the man in rags asked, motioning towards the one of power.

The soldier immediately glared at the thief with such hate, it frightened Nolwenn a bit. "Watch your tongue! You're speaking of Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king!”

“Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You’re the leader of the rebellion... but if they’ve captured you... oh, gods! Where are they taking us?” the thief worriedly asked, his eyes tearing up.

The Stormcloak sighed, looking away. “I don’t know where we’re going, but Sovngarde awaits...”

Nolwenn tuned out of their conversation then, her own nervous thoughts plaguing her mind. If what the soldier spoke was really true, then this would be the end of her life. At the age of twenty, she hadn’t quite completed her journey. There grew, out in vast, undiscovered lands, a variety of assorted herbs and other strange ingredients... waiting to be found and brewed. But most importantly... she would never return home to High Rock and see her father again.

He moved to High Rock from Valenwood with her mother when Nolwenn was but an infant. They agreed that her mother’s homeland would prove more safe to raise a Halfling.

And now, she would never see her family again. Her father always worried that something like this would happen. Nolwenn, of course denied it.

But as they entered the gates of an unfamiliar settlement, her stomach dropped in utter despair.