Chapter Text
“Why did you bring me to an execution?” came the horrified cry from the young blonde woman to her father. She looked in fright at the executioner that stood just beyond them, his axe blade gleaming in the sun; her mind brought up images of dislodged heads rolling down the stone roads of this little town in the far reaches of Skyrim, blood spraying everything in their path.
“Because, Freya,” General Tullius stated in a flat, clipped tone, “it’s time for you to see the world for how it really is and stop romanticizing this insurrection. These rebels are disillusioned by the rantings of an angry megalomaniac. They have caused the deaths of many and today, today we bring it to an end.”
Freya looked at the man she called father. “You know as well as I do that this will not end until Ulfric Stormcloak is dead and his followers abandon his cause.”
“And that, my dear daughter, is what we are doing today.” He motioned toward the wagons clanking into the small town of Helgen. She looked over and suddenly felt as if someone had punched her in her stomach. There in the last wagon she saw the bound and gagged figure of the Jarl of Windhelm, Ulfric Stormcloak with two men she did not recognize but the fourth man, she knew him and she knew him very well, better than her father would have ever approved. There at the front of the wagon behind the driver sat a blond haired blue eyed Nord, seemingly in conversation with one of the other captives; it was Ralof, the man whom she had been carrying on a relationship with for the past six months behind her father’s back. Her heart raced; did she risk her father’s wrath by pleading for the life of the man she adored or did she watch in horrified silence as the executioner took his head? Then to her horror Ralof turned his head and saw her standing under the Imperial banner, his eyes showing first surprise then confusion; she turned away in shame to avoid his eyes. She looked at her father, a smirk on his face and she realized he knew. She went to run off when he grabbed her arm.
“It’s time to face reality, Freya. There is nothing but death that awaits those who rebel against the Empire.”
#
Ralof stared at Freya from where he stood with the rest of the prisoners. He was trying to think of every reason she would be here standing amongst Tullius and Elenwen under the banner of the Empire but the only thing that kept going through his head was that he had fallen victim to the feminine wiles of an Imperial loving Nord. He saw how she kept avoiding his gaze and it angered him. ‘And to think,’ he thought bitterly as he listened to Tullius rant against Ulfric, ‘I thought I could love her.’ He thought of the last time he had seen her, just a week previous when she told him she had snuck away from her overbearing father and saw him at his last post in Folkwreath. He remembered how he felt in his arms as they sat in front of the fire at the inn and how he began to wish he could come home to her every day. He had found himself wondering if this beautiful young woman could possibly want to spend the rest of her life with him. He was angry; angry that he had let his heart get so attached and angry that the woman he had started falling in love with seemingly had betrayed his heart.
Suddenly there was a loud commotion and he blinked his eyes in disbelief as he stared at the gigantic form of a black winged creature landing upon the tower behind the executioner. Suddenly fire erupted from its jaws; he leaped up, saw a guard lying dead just beyond him, the blade of his sword unsheathed, and ran to him. He quickly cut his binds off of his hands by carefully running them alongside the sharpened edge. He found a small dagger on the ground and grabbed it; Ulfric, his gag having been loosened from his mouth, called over to him and after cutting off his binds, they ran off. For a moment he thought he heard above the roar of the dragon’s fire breath and the terrified screams of the towns people Freya screaming his name, but his thoughts were now on the life and survival of his jarl and ran for cover, guarding Ulfric all the while.
#
Freya screamed after Ralof until she could see him no more. ‘Divines protect him!’ she silently pleaded as she ran through the flames of the small town, looking for an escape. She heard her father yell over the chaos, “Hadvar! Get my daughter out of here and to safety!” She spun to see Hadvar just feet from her; just as he saw her she bolted in the opposite direction, making her way past the collapsing walls and fiery explosions that erupted from the maw of this voracious monster until she found her way outside the walls of the city.
She ran. She ran until her legs hurt and her feet felt like they were going to explode and still she ran, finally collapsing in a clearing. She turned and looked back to see pillars of smoke rising in the air and started to shake. Suddenly the sobbing ripped through her chest as the full impact of what just happened sank in. Her Nord mother had spoken of the old tales of dragons but her father, an Imperial, dismissed the old tales of her mother’s people as myth and make believe. What she had just seen though was far from make believe as was evidenced by the scorch marks on her dress. She furiously wiped the tears from her face and started to pull herself together. She felt her pocket and found that she still had some coins in there; knowing that she was going to need shelter here and soon, she started walking, not quite sure which direction to turn. Should she head back to Solitude and await her father’s punishment for her relationship with Ralof or should she try to find out if Ralof survived and explain to him why she couldn’t tell him who she was? Would he even believe her she wondered? After she had seen the anger in his eyes she didn’t think he would. Slowly but with determination she headed to Riverwood, she’d make up her mind what to do after she got there.
#
Ralof sat at the table in his sister’s house in Riverwood, his mind torturing him with the images of everything he had just seen and been through. He was surprised he had made it out alive; the stench of death by fire had permeated the skies around Helgen. Gerdur had seen how shook up he was and had rushed him into her home. He knew that she wanted to know more of what happened but he was sure that she could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn’t ready. He hadn’t noticed when Gerdur had left but he took full notice when she hurried back into the house and shut the door, her eyes full of concern. “What is it, Gerdur?” he asked, the soldier in him waking up, alert and prepared to run.
“A young woman, I just passed her on her way to the inn; she smelled of smoke and fire. It looked like there were burn marks on her dress.”
“A survivor? One of the town’s people probably.” His heart skipped a beat despite himself. He remembered that when he saw Freya she was wearing a dress. “What did this woman look like?”
Puzzled, Gerdur answered, “She was blonde, wearing a blue dress and she looked scared. Why, brother?”
He got up suddenly, looked at his clothes and threw open the wardrobe where some of his brother-in-law’s clothes were. He pulled out a pair of work pants and an old tunic of his and put them on followed by swapping out his fur boots worn by all Stormcloaks in exchange for a pair of Hod’s work boots. “Could it be?” he mumbled to himself. “Did she make it out alive?”
“Who, brother? What are you talking about?”
“I have to see; I need to know. I have to go to the inn.”
“Ralof! Are you crazy?” she cried out. “If an Imperial sees you they’ll take you away!”
He looked at his older sister, the worry and concern in her eyes evident and he smiled. “I’ll be careful, Gerdur; I promise you I will. I’ll be back, I just have to know something.” He planted a kiss on his sister’s cheek and slowly opened the door. He slipped out of the house and carefully made his way to the inn. He scanned the room and saw a flash of blue go into one of the rooms on the left and headed over to the closed door. He closed his eyes for a moment, not sure if he wanted it to be Freya or not. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes and rapped on the door. A moment later the door opened and he found himself staring into the emerald green eyes of his blonde haired beauty.
“Ralof!” she breathed excitedly as she pulled him into the room and shut the door behind him. “You made it out!”
He looked at her, their eyes meeting. The hardness in his eyes making her stop short of throwing her arms around his neck. “What were you doing in Helgen? And why were you standing with Tullius?”
Her face fell; her eyes downcast as she sat on the bed, dejected. She looked up at him, her voice soft as she said, “I’m sorry, Ralof. I should have been honest with you a long time ago. I just didn’t want to lose you.”
He felt his heart drop at her admission to not telling him the truth. “What did you lie to me about? And why?”
She sighed and fiddled with her hands as she said, “I didn’t really lie. I just didn’t tell you that my father is General Tullius.”
Ralof’s eyes widened and his jaw fell open. “Your father?” She nodded hesitantly. “So, what? This whole thing, you and me, that was nothing but a set up by Tullius then to capture Ulfric?” His mind raced with the first thought that came to his head as it was well known that Tullius had sworn to capture the rebel jarl.
“No!” she shook her head vehemently. “Not at all! I wasn’t lying when I told you that I was skipping out to avoid being around my father. He’s always been overbearing with me, nothing I do is ever right by him. Ralof, when I met you, I really as just running off to get away for a bit. I’ve done it thousands of times before. Whenever he goes on a campaign that takes him away from Solitude he leaves me there and I usually run off for a couple of days.”
“If so, why were you in Helgen?”
She shrugged and tossed her hands up. “He didn’t give me a choice this time; he said it was time for me–.“ She stopped as she recalled his words to her. “He knew that he was going to capture Ulfric; he was so confident as he headed out, having Hadvar escort me from Solitude to Helgen; he wanted to prove his point to me.”
“And what point was that?”
“Some time ago we were discussing current events as he is determined to have me follow in his footsteps by joining the Legion and working my way up the ranks like he did. He just insists that Ulfric would surrender to him but I insist that the only way he’d be able to capture Ulfric was if his men didn’t fight till their deaths to protect him and that the Stormcloaks loyalty to him was so strong that that would never happen.”
Ralof could not help but smile at the support she gave to the Stormcloaks to her Imperial father. “What did he say to that?”
“He said he would be able to get Ulfric to surrender without his men dying. I told him that that would never happen and he said he’d prove it.”
Ralof sat at the table by the bed and sighed. “Well, you both were right about it.” At her confused look he continued. “We were not about to surrender whatsoever, that’s not the Nord way. But a messenger came across from Tullius side with a message to Ulfric. I have no idea what it said but whatever it did say it was enough to make Ulfric give the stand down order and allow himself to be bound and gagged. I have served with Jarl Ulfric for many years now and I have never seen him back down from anything.”
“Did Ulfric make it out?”
Ralof shrugged, unsure. “We were separated. I got out and came right here to my sister’s house. I’m waiting till it’s safe for me to get back to Windhelm.” He looked at her again, his eyes soft. “Why are you here in Riverwood, Freya?”
“I couldn’t go to Solitude. My father knows about us, I realized that when the wagons came into Helgen. The execution, that was supposed to be only the first part of my punishment. My father is a sadist when it comes to punishments. He was going to force me to watch you be killed and then the real punishment would begin. He doesn’t teach by love; he doesn’t teach by example. He teaches by fear and what happens when you don’t obey the rules. He will not let me get away with having a relationship with a Stormcloak.”
Slowly Ralof nodded in understanding. “Then come with me to Windhelm.”
“Oh yeah, go to Windhelm, right in the middle of what he calls an insurrection. Just give him more reason to storm the city under the guise of taking his daughter back. I need to go where he won’t know where I am.”
He reached over and stroked her cheek. “Freya, my love, you’ll be safe in Windhelm. I promise you. We’ll keep you being there a secret. We can get a room at Candlehearth and you can stay there, with me.” He looked her deep in the eyes. “Please.”
Freya looked at the pleading in his eyes and quickly changed her mind. She nodded and said, “Okay. I know you’re right. Father isn’t going to attempt any move on Windhelm right now, not when he just had Ulfric slip through his fingers. I’ll go. I’ll go to Windhelm with you.” Ralof smiled at her, nice and large and she asked, “When do we leave?”
“After dusk. I need to tell my sister that I’m leaving or she’ll worry. I’ll be right back,” he leaned toward her and gently kissed her lips. “We have a lot to talk about.” He smiled at her and slipped out of the room.
#
Ralof and Freya headed out of Riverwood that night, hoping to avoid any Imperial eyes that might be on the road. They slipped out of town believing that no one saw them but they did not see Hadvar sitting on the banks of the river watching them.