Gisele Viliane

The Nord stared at me for a moment. "Captain. What should we do? She's not on the list."

The officer, a captain apparently, grunted. For a moment I expected her to send me to the block anyway, but she stared at me for a moment. "Alright, take her to the keep. I will interrogate her later."

"By your orders, Captain,” he said, seemingly relieved. “Follow me, prisoner."

"Ulfric Stormcloak,” Tullius said, as I followed the handsome Nord. “Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like The Voice to **** his king and usurp his throne."

Ulfric, still gagged, grunted. He seemed calm on the surface, but his deep blue eyes betrayed a storm raging within. It made me a tad flustered.

"You started this war,” Tullius continued, as I passed through a stone arch leading into the bailey of the keep. “Plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace."

The wind turned, and suddenly I heard a deep, rumbling roar on the freezing air.

The Nord shivered. "What was that?"

I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t familiar with the sounds of Skyrims mountains, though the icy peaks were wondrous to behold. Our lady teaches us to appreciate beauty wherever we find it, and though this seemed like a harsh land, nature’s elegance reigned supreme here.

“Follow me, prisoner,” the Nord said, as he opened the door to the keep itself, and gestured for me to enter.

“My name is Gisele,” I said, stepping inside.

“Hadvar,” he said, and he brought me deeper into the keep, through a circular room and down a flight of stairs to a wide hallway.

“Thank you, Hadvar,” I said. “I was afraid I would die here.”

“It is alright,” he said. “You don’t look like a rebel.”

“Then what do I look like?” I teased, as he opened a door on the left, to which the smell of roast meat and vegetable soup greeted me.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“I am, thank you,” I said, smiling at him as he poured me a bowl of soup, which I took gratefully. “You’re taking such good care of me.”

“Don’t forget you’re still a prisoner. I’ll have to take you to the dungeon.”

“I understand,” I said. “Still, I wouldn’t mind spending a bit more time with you.”

“Uh, okay.” He said, unsure of how to respond, I think. He was handsome, and frankly, I think the uniform made him even more attractive.

“Maybe I could… you know,” I said. “Thank you a bit more.”

It had been a long time, and I was cold. Don’t judge me. I was just about to say he didn’t have to untie me, when the earth shook.

“What was that?” I stammered, before shouts came from upstairs.

“Hide,” Hadvar said, before he jumped up and went to investigate, sword unsheathed. I froze for a moment. Had the prisoners escaped? Where we attacked by other rebels? Either way, my fate now was uncertain. I whispered a prayer the blessed lady, and hid behind a couple of barrels. As I quietly slurped my soup, I felt another tremor, followed by more shouting. After a short while, I heard the door fly open.

“Quickly,” I heard the rebel from the cart say, “take a good look around, there must be a postern or something.”

The stormcloaks had escaped. If I planned on no longer being a prisoner, now was my chance. Then again, that meant leaving Hadvar the Handsome Soldier behind as well. I closed my eyes and asked the lady Dibella for guidance.