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True daughter of Skyrim	By : EiraWolfsoul Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 6362 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, it is property of Bethesda. Eira however is my own character. No money is being made from writing this fanfiction.

Chapter List
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[A/N] This is to be my first multi-chapter fanfic based on The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. I have been working on this for quite some time and have the main storyline all planned out. My in-game experiences will have some influence and only time can tell how this story will develop. I have previously written a few one-shots starring the main character, Eira Wolfsoul. My one-shot "Innocent" was written to create a little more background story for my character. The others ("Take me to jail, I submit!" and "Stop right there criminal scum!") take place at a later stage in the game. I wanted to dig into the Dragonborn's past, fill in some blanks and find out why she made certain choices or joined certain factions (why would the Dragonborn join a guild of thieves?) I hope to keep this story as lore-friendly as possible. Any important information you need to know along the way, I'll explain in an [INFO] at the beginning of a new chapter. Further warnings, if needed, will be added as I go. Finally, I hope to update on a weekly basis, but I can make no promises.
[DISCLAIMER] I do not own The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim or anything related to it, that honour goes to Bethesda. Eira Wolfsoul however is my original character and she belongs to me. I write this story for fun and to satisfy my own overactive imagination, no profit is being made.
[INFO] A matter considering time in The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim: Based on in-game information (mainly Ralof mentioning to Gerdur that the ambush happend two days ago), I took some liberties with the timescale. Basicly 1 Skyrim hour equals 4 hours in this story.
True daughter of Skyrim
Summary:
With the Emperor's letter of approval in her pocket, Eira Wolfsoul, prominent member of the Bravil Fighters Guild, set out to return to Skyrim, her homeland. All she wanted was some semblance of peace, perhaps become a member of the Companions. Fate however has other plans for her, throwing one twist after another her way.

Chapter 1. Ambushes are just as unexpected as escapes
The road was silent except for the sound of hooves and the soft murmur of soldiers making small talk. They had made could time and would reach Darkwater Crossing soon. Ulfric would speak with his informant, discuss matters with Anneke Crag-Jumper and be on his way back to Windhelm before the day was over. The Jarl’s housecarl Galmar Stone-Fist had been against the Jarl’s going, saying both the informant and Anneke could just come to the palace in Windhelm, but Ulfric was going stir-crazy and needed to get out of the palace. Ordering a grumbling Galmar to stay behind to run things should anything happen to him, the Jarl left with a select few guards.
The relative silence was broken by the shrill cry of a horse in pain. The panicked animal threw off his rider and ran. Before anyone could react the other horses cried out too, one throwing his rider off too and following it’s comrade, the others crumbling to the ground death. Ulfric and his men quickly got back to their feet, weapons drawn and ready to attack whoever had fired the arrows that struck their horses. They were shocked by the large number of Imperials that came out of hiding. Some had their bows drawn, arrows aimed at them, others held their swords at the ready. Ulfric’s eyes scanned his surroundings quickly, ‘too many’ he thought and resigning himself to this unexpected fate ordered his men to lower their weapons.
Ulfric hated giving the command, he knew his guards wanted to fight for him, for their cause, but they were greatly outnumbered and to fight now would only result in their untimely deaths. They would all gladly give their lives if it meant Skyrim would be free of the Empire and more importantly the Thalmor, but he would not allow them to die needlessly. If they surrendered now they would live perhaps long enough to escape or at the very least his men would be imprisoned until the war was settled. He thought to use the Voice, but knew that too would not be enough to win this battle. No, they would simply have to bide their time and suffer the indignity of capture. Besides, Ulfric was almost certain his time had not yet come. How he knew this, he did not know, but he felt as though something would happen, something big. And so, keeping his shoulders straight and his head held high Ulfric allowed the Imperials to bind and gag him.
Ulfric watched as his guards, four men and one woman, were bound and directed into two carts, they were good people. He did not know all of them personally, but he hoped they would all live to see another day. Three men and the woman were pushed onto one cart, the last soldier was pushed onto the second cart, before Ulfric himself was also pushed onto the second cart. The Imperial soldiers took their places surrounding the two carts and they headed off towards the South.

Several hours later they had crossed the bridge South-East of Lake Geir and past the road East to Riften when they stopped at what was obviously an Imperial Camp. Another, equally large battalion of soldiers, led by General Tullius awaited their arrival. “General Tullius Sir, we’ve captured the rebel leader!” the legate leading the ambush greeted the Imperial general. “Well done men”, Tullius complimented “rest up, we leave at first light”. The general then turned to his own battalion “guard them well, do not let them escape!” With that the soldiers from the ambush took their leave, finding places to rest, while the new battalion took up positions to guard Ulfric and his men.
Knowing there would be no escape that night, Ulfric allowed himself to doze. “Throw the horse thief on a cart and let’s be off!” It was the Legate’s voice that woke him from his slumber. The sun was only just rising. A thin, dirty man in rags was pushed onto Ulfric’s cart and moments later they were on the move again, once more accompanied by the soldiers from the ambush and with the addition of General Tullius and the horse thief.

They had reached Falkreath Hold somewhere around 8 hours ago, if Ulfric’s reading of the sun’s position was correct, and were now nearing The Pale Pass, Ulfric noted. ‘Probably want to parade me in front of the Emperor’, Ulfric thought sourly. ‘There are too many guards, there’s no way we can escape and the closer we’ll get to Cyrodiil, the smaller our chances will be’. Ulfric was brought out of his reverie by the sound of swords being unsheathed and bows being drawn. There were two dull thuds, followed by swords being sheathed and bows being unstrung. “Exchange her clothes for prison rags, Stormcloak scum shouldn’t be wearing niceties” Tullius ordered. Ulfric growled behind his gag, ‘if they captured another Stormcloak, she’d be wearing armour, not fancy clothes, besides there was no reason for a lone Stormcloak to wander around Falkreath Hold’.
Moments later a young woman was thrown rather forcefully onto the cart. Ulfric glared at the Imperial who manhandled the woman. “She’s not a Stormcloak!” the other Stormcloak on Ulfric’s cart said. “It doesn’t matter who or what she is”, General Tullius said from atop his horse. “Of course it matters! She’s innocent!” one of the soldiers from the other cart tried. “Not likely” was Tullius’ reply. “The Thalmor ordered her death”. Ulfric’s eyes widened slightly, ‘the Thalmor? What could such a young woman possibly have done to warrant a death sentence from them?’. He watched as Ralof attempted to seat the woman slightly more comfortably, before ripping a piece of cloth from his cuirass to gently dab at the bleeding wound on her head. Whoever hit her, had done so excessively hard. The horse thief watched her intently, obviously impressed by the curves revealed by the rough spun tunic she was forced into, a fierce glare from Ulfric and an elbow jabbed into his side by Ralof turned his lecherous gaze away.

Eyes opened slowly to a blurry sight, no doubt a result of whatever caused the throbbing headache. A hand attempted to reach up to feel if there were any injuries to explain the ache, only to find both wrists tightly bound with rough rope. ‘Well that explains the burning wrists’ came the wry thought. She was sitting, in a carriage if the feeling of movement and the sound of hooves were any indication. As her sight cleared somewhat she noticed the red and brown leathers of the man driving the cart ‘an Imperial then. What happened?’ As her senses slowly returned to her she noticed the scratchy feel of rough cloth against her skin, not the feeling she was used to. ‘Someone redressed me from my travel clothes to this rough spun tunic! They better not have done anything else while doing so’ she thought sourly.
“Hey, you’re finally awake” a strong male voice cut into her souring thoughts. She looked up, her sight now fully cleared revealed a blond Nord man dressed in blue armour ‘a soldier by the looks of it’. He had friendly, clear blue eyes, a short boxed beard and bulging muscles. “You were captured trying to cross the border right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there”. Not sure of the strength of her voice, she simply nodded, an action her head did not agree with, before turning to the thief the blond Nord had indicated. A scrawny looking man in the same rough spun tunic as hers, with deep blue eyes and dark hair. “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 halfway to Hammerfell” he said before turning to her. “You there. You and me, we shouldn’t be here. It’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."
The blond Nord addressed him and conversation between the two men continued as she discretely looked over the last man in the cart, another strong built Nord sitting next to her, wearing much fancier armour and a fur cloak. He too had blond hair and a short boxed beard and his eyes she believed were green. Oddly he was the only one that was gagged. ‘Someone of importance, a general perhaps?’ she wondered. “And what’s with him huh?” scrawny guy asked. “Watch your tongue!” Blond Nord’s voice “You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!” She allowed herself a small smile ‘so I was right about him being someone of importance, I wonder why they captured him’. Her question was answered by scrawny guy “Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You’re the leader of the rebellion”.
‘Well that wasn’t good’, she thought. ‘How did I get myself into this situation?’ Her parents had taken her to Cyrodiil years ago, when she was but a child. Her da was offered a better job there and they had taken the opportunity in hopes of a better life. Now that both had passed away there was little left for her in Cyrodiil and so she decided to return home. She had heard rumours of a rebellion but thought little of it. She remembered clearly now, she ran into the Imperials shortly after crossing the border. They did not ask questions and did not give her the chance to explain her purpose either. They just knocked her lights out before she had gotten over the shock of being suddenly surrounded by soldiers with their weapons drawn and aimed at her. ‘Probably think I’m a rebel or that I wished to join the rebels. Well damn, talk about wrong place, wrong time!’ she thought.
“This is Helgen, I used to be sweet on a girl from here” blond Nord said. ‘So this is where I grew up, ironic that I should die here, for die I most likely would. She didn’t remember much of her childhood, but Helgen looked pleasant enough, if you weren’t headed for the executioner’ she thought sarcastically. The carriage had stopped now and they were all getting out. She felt strangely calm as she stood before two imperial soldiers, a brown haired Nord man in leather armour holding a thin book and quill and an Imperial woman wearing armour made of a combination of steel and leather. Ulfric Stormcloak was called out first and made his way to the block proudly. Ralof of Riverwood was the next name on the list and the blond Nord followed his leader to the block. Then Lokir of Rorikstead, the thief stepped forward panicked “No I’m not a rebel. You can’t do this!” he babbled before he started running. The woman’s “Halt!” did not stop his flight so the archers shot him down swiftly. “Anyone else feel like running?” the woman asked annoyed as both she and the man with the quill turned to her.
“Wait”, quill guy said, “you there, step forward”, she did so slowly. “Who are you?” he asked as he looked her over. “Eira Wolfsoul” she answered softly. “You picked a bad time to come home to Skyrim, kinsman” he said as he scribbled something in his book. “Captain, what should we do? She’s not on the list” he asked the woman next to him. “Forget the list, she goes to the block” was the bitch’s answer. “I have an Imperial edict from the Emperor, allowing me to cross the border”, Eira said, eyes narrowed. The Captain looked her over, “very well, show me then”, she said. “It was in my pocket, the soldiers must have taken it when they exchanged my clothes!” The Captain scoffed, “nice try prisoner. Send her to the block!” “By your orders Captain” quill guy said before turning to her again looking a little guilty “I’m sorry, at least you’ll die here, in your homeland. Follow the Captain prisoner”. And so she did, joining the other prisoners at the block.
After a short speech from a scrawny looking Imperial who must have been in charge there was a loud roar up in the sky. Everyone looked up confused, but there was nothing to be seen. “What was that?” someone asked. “It’s nothing, carry on!” scrawny Imperial said. “Yes General Tullius” the Captain answered before telling the priestess to give us our last rights. ‘So that’s General Tullius huh, doesn’t look like much to me. A man like Ulfric Stormcloak definitely inspires more confidence and respect’, Eira thought as the priestess began her blessing. “For the love of Talos, shut up and let’s get this over with” a redheaded Nord male spoke gruffly as he stepped forward. “Come on I haven’t got all morning!” he said and Eira couldn’t help the little smile at his impatience and seeming fearlessness. ‘Well that’s one way to take control of something that’s out of your hands’.
“Next, the Nord in the rags” the Captain called out, just as there was another roar in the sky. “There it is again, did you hear that?” quill guy asked a little worried. The Captain would have no delays though and so quill guy turned to her once more “to the block prisoner, nice and easy”. Eira resigned herself to her fate and stepped forward slowly, head held high. She dropped to her knees before the block and tried not to think or inhale the scent of blood as she laid her head on the block. Just as the headsman raised his axe she saw an enormous black creature flying towards them to land upon the tower behind the headsman. “DRAGON!” a woman shouted.
There was a lot of noise, her eyes clouded with sand thrown up by the creatures enormous wings. As she tried to get her bearings there was that blond Nord’s voice again ‘Ralof’ she thought. “Come on, the Gods won’t give us another chance!” Eira scrambled to her feet and ran after him, into a nearby tower. Ulfric and some other soldiers were already there. “Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends be true?” Ralof asked. “Legends don’t burn down villages” the Jarl rumbled. ‘By the nine! That voice!’ Eira thought.
“WE NEED TO MOVE, NOW!” the Jarl roared and Eira obeyed, following Ralof up the stairs. They jumped back as the dragon’s head burst through the tower’s wall and breathed fire, narrowly missing them. The moment he was gone they raced back up and looked out. Ralof pointed to a burned down building. “See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going!” he said. When she hesitated he added “Go! We’ll follow when we can!” Eira nodded firmly now, swallowed and jumped. She felt a jolt of pain in her calves as she landed, but nothing serious so she pushed on.
Outside she ran into quill guy who coaxed a young boy to his side just in time before the dragon landed where he had been standing. “Still alive prisoner? Stay close to me if you want to stay that way!” he called out to her, before ordering a man to take care of the boy. “Gods guide you Hadvar” the man said as they took off. ‘So that’s his name’ Eira thought idly as she followed him, not seeing Ralof and having no idea where to go from here she figured it was her best option for now. Hadvar led her through the town, dodging soldiers and attacks as they went, until they ran into Ralof again. “Ralof you damned traitor! Out of my way!” Hadvar shouted. “We’re escaping Hadvar, you’re not stopping us this time” Ralof answered. ‘So they knew each other, interesting’ Eira thought. Eira decided she’d rather follow a fellow prisoner then her captor so she rushed after Ralof, into the keep.
Ralof rushed to the body of a fellow soldier, Gunjar he called him, paying his respects. After he cut her loose she donned Gunjar’s armour, which was a bit too large for her, but would have to do for now. She was testing his axe when they heard voices. The bitch Captain and another soldier, Eira noticed as they entered through the previously locked gate. Both she and Ralof charged from their spots on either side of the gate and made quick work of them.
Using the bitch Captain’s key they made their way further into the keep. They quickly disposed of the two soldiers in the storeroom and took whatever potions they could find before pressing on. They heard the sounds of another fight further in and quickened their pace, until they reached what Ralof called out was a torture room. They quickly joined the Stormcloak in his fight with an Imperial mage and soldier. Sadly another Stormcloak had already fallen before they got joined up. Eira picked up a book, dagger and backpack from a small table when she heard Ralof’s voice. “Hey, see if you can pick this lock, we might need that gold when we get out!”
Eira huffed ‘does he think I’m a thief?’ She found a lockpick set in the backpack and set to work. The lock clicked faster than she thought it would. ‘Well that was easy’, she thought as she opened the cell and took the gold and spellbook inside. ‘I wonder why he had these? Shouldn’t the guards have taken them when he was imprisoned?’. “Come on”, Ralof’s impatient voice called out and she quickly followed after him and the other Stormcloak.
Voices betrayed the potential enemies in the cavern ahead, so they drew their weapons and proceeded cautiously. They had been right, several Imperial soldiers wandered the cavern, but between the three of them, they made quick work of the soldiers. She and Ralof moved on, while the other Stormcloak stayed behind in case Ulfric came through there. ‘Ulfric’ Eira thought ‘I really hope he makes it out of here alive. It would be a shame if he doesn’t, I really want to hear that voice again!’ she shook herself at the stray thought and focussed again on the task at hand.
She followed after Ralof as he led the way. They killed a few gigantic spiders and snuck past a bear before they made it outside just in time to watch the dragon fly off. “I can’t believe we made it!” Ralof said, obviously relieved. “We should head to Riverwood, my sister owns the mill there, I’m sure she’ll help us out”. Eira nodded and continued following him.

[A/N] Some of the first blanks I wanted to fill in: the ambush, the horse thief and the Dragonborn, where did it happen and how does it all fit together? Hopefully I did it justice! Reviews are greatly appreciated and constructive critisism is welcome too, especially if it helps me improve my writing and/or this story! So please take a few moments to comment and make my day ;)
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True daughter of Skyrim