Chapter Text
Lilyah’s head pounds with pain as her body sway from side to side. The creaking and groaning, along with the clip-clopping of a horse’s hooves, tells her that she is currently traveling by wagon. The only problem is that she can’t remember how she came to be sitting in said wagon and what she had done to warrant her arms be tied together. She remembered running- Monia had taken it upon herself to secure an escape for Lilyah from her Altmer master in Valenwood and she had found the nearest cave as soon as her guide abandoned her on the border of Skyrim where she had fallen asleep on leaves and cold frozen dirt.
She opens her eyes with a few quick blinks and then squeezes them closed just as quickly as the sun flicks through gaps between branches and her ebony hair. Squinting now, she can make out others sitting in the wagon with her, but other than a flash of blue she cannot distinguish anything more.
Blue… blue… NO… I slashed them… I know I got the one above me good… one of them must have knocked me out… and they’ve taken my dagger…
“You’re awake, Elf.”
Lilyah slits her eyes open to glare at the human speaking and notices two others sitting in the wagon as well and that she is not the only one with her hands tied. She remembers how she ended up in the wagon now.
They tried to… they almost… I was sleeping and… I will kill them all…
“Look like that… I’d wager they knocked you on the head pretty good then…”
A feral hiss escapes her lips as she bares her teeth at him. Pleasure vibrates through her limbs as he recoils from her.
Good.
“Okay then…”
Being able to finally focus and open her eyes fully, Lilyah scans her surroundings. Only one of the blue armored men travels in the wagon with her- blonde and clearly a Nord. Another is dressed well, also a Nord, but has a rolled cloth gagging his mouth. The last is a ragged Imperial man radiating fear.
Bet he’s the first to try to run… Coward… if I run it’ll be to the first one I see with a spare dagger… granted I’m not sure how I’ll grab it with my hands tied behind my back… I’ll figure it out…
Drowning out the conversation between the non-gagged men takes a depth of concentration that Lilyah cannot seem to conjure up at the moment and as she looks away from them her eyes scan the landscape in a daze. Apparently the gagged man is a Jarl of Skyrim and the one who leads the ‘Stormcloaks’. Her new hatred for these Stormcloaks now extends to this Jarl and she finds a smirk forming on her lips at the sight of him gagged. The coward is also a horse theif.
“Shut up back there!”
Hmph… if he wasn’t leading me to my probable death I’d tell the driver that his voice was rather sexy… rough and full of gravel.. HA… maybe I’ll still tell him…
A dip in the road had everyone with bound hands tipping to and fro, and though the Jarl and his Stormcloak soldier kept themselves from falling completely over, Lilyah couldn’t stop herself from tipping towards the driver and slamming her upper arm upon the top of the wooden slat. Gritting her teeth she tried to use that same point of contact to get herself back into a sitting position. She succeeded in sitting up and growled loudly from the pain as she did so.
That’s going to hurt for a few days…
Scrunching her eyes close and shaking her head at herself couldn’t shake the knowledge that she was currently on Death’s door. If she couldn’t think of something quick the pain in her arm wouldn’t even matter in a few moments. Wiggling her wrists hurt, but outside of the pain she could possibly release herself.
I just need time…
“Where are we?”
“Where do you think? End of the line.”
“No… it can’t be… they can’t do this…”
“Face your death with some courage man.”
Not likely…
“Get up, Elf.”
Here’s your chance…
“You know… you have a very sexy voice…”
“No one asked you to speak.”
Lilyah was going to comment further, but the man put his hand to her back and shoved her towards the back of the wagon. Balance and grace were natural qualities in Bosmer, but after sitting for who knew how long and being shoved unexpectedly had her a little off her game. Off her game and face first into the dirt below everyone else’s feet.
“That was uncalled for… warn a girl before she tries to compliment you next time…”
ASShole…
“SOLDIER… there is no need to be cruel.”
Hmph… what is with these men and their sexy voicesOH… oh my…
Lilyah was staring right into the eyes of a very handsome red-headed Nord and for the life of her she couldn’t remember what it was she had been about to say. The man released her as soon as she was on her feet and retreated back towards a well armored woman who seemed to be his commanding officer. She flexed her jaw and watched as that very woman handed him a clipboard and bellowed out the order for him to call off the next prisoner.
“Ulfric Stormcloak…”
Mmm… if you could just keep talking… maybe I could… NO… not even your voice could keep me here to face an unjust death.
“NO, YOU CAN’T DO THIS!”
“STOP!… ARCHERS!”
She watches as the horse theif runs past the soldiers on the ground and makes it only a handful of yards before snicks of a dozen bows are heard and the Coward’s back becomes a pincushion.
Called it…
“Who are you?”
Is he? Oh… he’s talking to me…
“Lilyah of Valenwood…”
“You’re far from home… Captain, she’s not on the list.”
Of course I’m not… but… you’re still not going to let me go…
“Forget the list… she goes to the block.”
Bitch.
“By your orders.. Captain.”
You know she’s wrong… please!
“I am sorry… we will make sure your remains are sent back to your family in Valenwood.”
You’d have to find them first.
“Good luck with that.”
Lilyah notices his brows furrow with pity and she hates that her own flares as well. Why should she pity herself that the only real memory of her family was her mother selling her to the highest bidder? Though someone had to have taught her how to use a bow as a child because, though her many masters had taught her many things, none of them had been dumb enough to teach her to shoot. This General Tulius stands before the Jarl and accuses him of starting the war and killing Skyrim’s previous king with his voice. A loud bellowing noise echoes through the valley. It seems to startle everyone in the square, but after Tulius says to ignore it the Captain calls forth the first prisoner to the block for beheading.
Damn these ropes… I WILL NOT DIE LIKE THIS!
As the Stormcloak soldier walks confidently towards the block and kneels down of his own volition, practically spitting in his executioner’s face with his words, she feels something other than hate at his fearlessness before the axe falls and severs his head from his body. The Captain kicks his body away from the block and looks straight at Lilyah.
"Imperial scum!"
"DEATH TO THE STORMCLOAKS!"
I feel your sentiments...
“The elf next.”
Hesitating from shock Lilyah stares wide-eyed at the woman, to the handsome Nord then back to the woman, when she notices the look the woman gives her. She can feel the jealousy rolling off of this woman now. She could understand the sentiment as she’d probably be the same way with a man like him at her side.
“To the block, Prisoner… nice and easy.”
The soldier who pushed her from the wagon grabs her arm and drags her towards the bloodied block and just as she thinks she might have felt a dagger it is out of her reach as he shoves her to her knees. Pain lances through her from the sudden contact, but she only has a second to comprehend it before she’s kicked towards the block.
Gods be damned… this is it… I don’t want to die…
Heart pounding, and mouth as dry as Elsweyr sands, she doesn’t even try to stop her eyes from seeking out the handsome Nord who had been the only one to show her some small kindness since she entered Skyrim, but he is not looking at her- the sky was more interesting it seemed. The blood under her cheek squelches and Lilyah’s body trembles as they all hear a deafening roar blast through the skies. Lilyah feels a strange recognition throughout her body at the sound.
“WHAT IN OBLIVION IS THAT?”
“SENTRIES! WHAT DO YOU SEE?”
Lilyah watches the headsman continue to lift his dripping axe above his head when a massive black dragon lands on the tower before her. She closes her eyes, not wanting to see the axe fall and not wanting to see that death had come for her on massive wings. A single tear slides down her cheek to mix with the blood coating the block before everything in her life falls into chaos.