A night in her shoes

[MadHatter]

A night in her shoes​

A story of Revenge by MadHatter​

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Chapter I​

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The cold wind blew across the Jerral Mountains, sending little specks of frost across a middle-aged Nord woman's face as she stood on the porch, watching as her husband walked up the steps of their impressive homestead. "Illia, my love. I bring dinner!" He grinned wide as he held up a handful of rabbits by their ears in his massive fists. "Come, husband. Give me the rabbits. You should go tidy yourself up and prepare for dinner. Make sure you round up the boys as well." She took the bloodied rabbits in both hands before planting a gentle kiss on her husband's snow covered and heavily bearded lips. "I'll meet you at the dinner table, love"​

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Later that evening, Illia sat at the dinner table, surrounded by her family. She looked around and smiled, taking in every face that lined the table. Hearty nords, every last one of them. From her father Herd White-Blade, the patron of Clan White-Blade to her kid brother Svir and his wife Shila along with the twin girls that they brought into this world together. She offered a nod to her brother when he noticed her looking at him. It was with him that the future of Clan White-Blade sat. He was heir to the White Blade, as was customary. She then glanced at her husband, Marki White-Blade. He was an impressive man, built like a stone wall and covered in masses of hair. He was a Nord's Nord, brought into her family through shared battles by her father's side and eventually married Illia and giving her 3 beautiful little boys, Hod, Sigmund and Froyd.​

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Herd White-Blade then stood up at the head of the table, placing his hands on that hard oak surface and smiling at his Clan. "Kin" He stated, pausing slightly. "It's dinner time. Thank Talos for that." A hearty roar of laughter echoed through the dinner hall at that. "As is customary, the provider, in this case my strong and ever resourceful son-in-law, Marki.. Shall lead us in prayer." He made a gesture before sitting down and holding his hands out as everyone joined hands and Marki led them in prayer. "Talos, God and King. Thanks you for blessing our Clan with this boon. Thank you for...." The prayer was cut short as the great door to White-Blade Hall flew open, glass shattering and wood sent flying in explosive and firey splinters.​

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"In the name of the Aldmeri Dominion and the White-Gold Concordant, you have ALL been found guilty of Talos worship! Your sentence is immediate and irrevocable DEATH!" Figures clad in gleaming elven armor forcibly invited themselves into White-Blade Hall and let loose a fury of hatred, fire and destruction. Everything happened all at once, a red blur accompanied by screams of agony. All Illia could remember was a sharp pain running through her left eye as she screamed out in blood-curdling grief and agony with her youngest son, Froyd, only 8 years old limp and lifeless in her arms. She saw her family lift up their arms to fight the intruders, she saw them all fall... even her newborn nephews were not spared. Everything went black.​

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[MadHatter]

Chapter 2​

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Illia White-Blade laid in the snow, frost gripping at her aged face, a fresh gash cut a swath through her flesh, her left eye ripped and bloodied with specks of crimson colored ice forming in the socket. She appears to be dead, lifeless as the cold winter that surrounded her. Suddenly her eyes flew open as she scrambled to her hands and knees, retching blood and bile into the snow before noticing the empty glass vial in the nearby bushes. She reached for it with shaking and frostbitten fingers, holding it up to her eye one good eye, she read the label which was in her own handwriting...Luna Wing + Nirnroot She had ran... like a coward.... Memories began to pour through her aching skull as she remembered the tragedy that had befallen her clan. She recalled every last bit of shocking pain as her family fell, one by one. She recalled her husband being engulfed in Altmeri flames. She recalled her sons being gutted like fish.... and here she was.... unable to see through her left eye... pain wracking through her frost-bitten body but very much so alive.... She ran like a coward. She saved herself and she hated herself for it.​

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The Nord woman grabbed for a severed tree branch and used it to raise herself to her feet and began the hard walk though she was completely clueless as to where she was. She walked for what seemed like forever before she finally came to a stream, a campfire with a troop of imperial soldiers sitting around it. Her cracked and dehydrated lips parted, her heart filled with hope of survival as she attempted to reach out.. Collapsing in a heap of rags and bloodied flesh..."Hel...Help!" She certainly got the troop's attention and they came strutting up to her with their hands on their hilts. Eying the middle-age woman with suspicion. One of the soldiers, a rugged man whom smelt like ale and old meat knelt before Illia and grabbed her by the hair, noticing the wounds, he beckoned for one of his comrades to step forward. "What do we have here, eh? Heard there was a raid on some Nordic Talos worshippers somewhere near Bruma last night. Must be a survivor, huh?" The stinky one looked up at his fellow soldier. "Doubt it, aint many that survive a Thalmor raid. Let alone a little middle-aged woman. Regardless, she's obviously some kind of scum. Crossin' the border and whatnot. Throw her in with Ulfric and his boys." Stinky nodded and dragged Illia up to her feet by her hair as she screamed in agony and another soldier tied her hands with rough rope that practically tore through her skin. "Aye, Let the Eight sort em out."​

 

[MadHatter]

Chapter 3​

"Empire and their damn lists" muttered a strong looking nord dressed in the well recognizeable Stormcloak armor next to Illia as a young imperial soldier began calling out names on a piece of parchment. Illia scowled as she watched some dirty little horse thief run off in fear before imperial arrow tore through his back and sent him sprawling into the mud. Illia was anything but happy with the situation but at the same time, she felt the sour pang of survivor's guilt settle over her soul like a blanket of thorns. Tears dripped down her weather worn and bloodied face. It took everything she had to not simply collapse in the mud and then she was pushed forward by rough hands. "Step up, prisoner! Let the captain get a good look o' ya! What's your name?" It was that same stench ridden soldier that bound her and threw her into a cage. She glared at him with a hate-filled teary eye and said "I am Illia White-Blade, last of Clan White-Blade. A curse on you, Imperial. A curse on you and your entire bloodline." Illia felt a white hot pain surge through her already wounded face as the soldier's armored gauntlet reached up to crash into her jaw and the last of the White-Blade's fell backwards into the mud, much to the grumbling displeasure of the Stormcloak captives and even a few of the imperial soldiers.​

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"Enough! Put her to the block!" Came the ringing words of truth from female captain, Redguard by the looks of her copper colored skin. Illia in a daze was deftly lifted up by her arm and dragged to the block, kicking and screaming curses as several imperials held her down for the headsman. "I'll have mine, Imperials! I'll have mine! You're all scum! A curse! A hefty curse on your blood! By Talos! I'll have mine!" The headsman's axe lifted up high, the sharp blade gleaming in the evening sun... all appeared to be lost. It would have been the end of Clan White-Blade if not for the deafening roar... that horrifying roar that Illia would never forget.​

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Everyone came to a pause, even the headsman dropped his axe to his side as all eyes looked skyward. A dragon of all things came tearing through the clouds and began an onslaught of fire and destruction. The imperial soldiers all grabbed for their bows and blades. Screams echoed through the small town that hosted the execution. "Kill the dragon!" screamed some of those voices, but most others answered with pain and agony. Illia took this chance and dashed towards a nearby stone tower with several of the stormcloaks, tearing at her bindings with her teeth as she did so.​

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Inside the tower, Illia leaned against the stone wall and continued the bite at her bindings. The Stormcloaks around her were in complete disarray. When a familiar face caught her eye as he walked up to her, it was that same strong looking man who stood next to her at the execution. "C'mon! We need to go! Up through the tower!" He said as he grabbed hold of her arm, cut her bindings loose and up through the tower they went. When they got to the top, they discovered that the dragon had torn half of the tower into a pile of rubble at the base and it was all Illia could do but scream as the young warrior grabbed her up by her hips. "Over into the inn! Make your way to the keep! I'll meet you there!" before she could even respond... he threw her.​

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[MadHatter]

I had plans for this story but it is indefinitely on hold. I dont have time to play skyrim or write stories at the moment.