The pitter patter of miniature feet. The stretch of a bow. The twang of its release . And the padded thunk of three arrows making their mark-bullseye.

There was a loud whoop as a male Bosmer picked up the marksman, his tiny five year old daughter, and spun her around in a playful hug.

"Always knew you could do it, Falja, you're destined for greatness."

"Thanks daddy!"

The tiny wood elf child ran to the targets, yanking and pulling with all her might as one by one she removed the arrows.

"I told you, Gosver, that kid's got it in her! And to think, all that from a child who's an eighth Nord. What have they ever added to the world of archery?"

The Bosmer, Gosver, cuffed his friend of the head.

"Now Arvere, no need to speak ill of my great grandfather. Nord blood or not, my daughter has the soul of a true Mer. And I'm proud of her."

Arvere scoffed and took his leave, but not before ruffling the bright red hair atop Falja's head.

"See ya 'round, kid."

"Bye Mr. Arvere!"

Gosver sighed, looking down apon his wide eyed and eager daughter. He knelt down, nuzzling his nose against hers, laughing as his blonde hair tangled with her red mane.

"Your mother will be so proud, just you wait!"

"So proud of what, love?"

And there she was, the love of his life. Tall, lithe, and hair of fire. Even after years of marriage, Gosver was still smitten with his wife.

"Kjera, you will never guess what Falja did today! She shot 3 arrows-at once- and all of them hit the target! Our little girl is turning out to be quite like you!"

Kjera smiled and knelt down by Falja.

"Did you really, now? This calls for a celebration."

Kjera stood, placed two fingers in her mouth and let out a bird whistle. Slowly but surely, Wood Elves from all over the small town gathered with food for the impromtu feast.

"Well will you look at that?" Kjera chuckled, and turned back to her daughter. "No matter where you go in your journeys, Falja, never forget that we Bosmer throw the best spontaneous parties. Always a whistle away!"

The celebration went on for hours into the night in true Wood Elf fashion. Dancing, old Elvish tales and songs, and much boasting of the hunt filled the night.

"Alright, alright!" Gosver called out, once the night had reached its peak darkness, and the flames lapping at the wood of the bonfire was the only source of light left.

"Time for the wee ones to get to bed!"

There were a few groans from the children as they shuffled back to their respective houses, but Falja defiantly stayed put on the split log the guests had been using as a bench.

"Falja, love, that means you, too."

"Nuh-uh! I wanna stay out here and listen to the warriors tell their stories!" she whined.

Kjera snatched Falja up so she dangled helplessly upside-down, laughing as she struggled to get away.

"Come now you, bed time"

Falja fought valiantly all the way through her home, up the stairs, through her bedroom door until her mother exhaustedly plopped her down onto her bed and turned to take her leave.

"Mommy?"

Kjera turned back around, surprised to see her daughter snuggled under the covers.

"Yes love?"

"Will you tell me a story before you go?"

Sighing, Kjera took a seat beside Falja's bed, smiling absently as she stroked her daughter's hair.

"Any particular story you'd like to hear, love?"

"Tell me the story about Great-Great Grandpa and Grandma!"

Letting out a wild laugh, Kjera bopped Falja on the nose.

"You've asked me to tell that story a thousand times! But okay."

Falja snuggled deeper under the covers until the sheet was just under her bottom eyelashes.

"A long, long time ago, your Great-Great Grandma was an adventurer. At a very young age she travelled from Valenwood to Morrowind and to Elsweyr and back. On her final journey when she was still only 28 years old, she ventured to the land of Skyrim. There, in one of the great nine holds, by the shrine of the God Talos, she met your Great-Great Grandfather. A strong, handsome Nord, he was taken with her at first sight. Though it was taboo to marry into an Elf family, he swore he would marry her. Two months later, while your Great Great Grandmother was packing her things to return to Valenwood, he proposed. The rest of our family has always lived in Valenwood, and therefore married back into full Elven culture, but we do not forget our Nordic heritage." Kjera smile proudly and stroke her daughter's hair. "Falja, your skills with a bow reflect your nordic heritage, which is why I want you to have this."

Kjera reached under the neck of her dress and removed a glowing amulet of Talos and gave it to her daughter, who stared at it curiously,

"Take it, my love, and remember always your Nordic blood."

As Kjera once again got up to leave, she was stopped by a muffled call of "Mommy?"

"Yes, love?"

"Will you take me to Skyrim someday?"

There was long pause.

"...Yes. When you're old enough, we will go. All three of us."

"Promise?"

"I promise love."

Finally, Kjera left, leaving her daughter to slide completely under the covers and hug the amulet closer to her. She dreamed of Skyrim, and all the adventures she would have.

A few weeks later, Gosver was hard at work, chopping wood for the hearth while his wife hunted with the other women of the village, and his daughter was off playing in the wheat fields, just far enough away so he could just hear her if she needed him.

After a particularly rough swing, he hunched over, taking deep breaths and swiping the sweat away from his brow. When he looked up again, he was greeted by the sight of High Elf, dressed in elaborate dark robes.

"Hello brother. I'm sure you must be curious as to who I am."

"Yes, I am. So just who the hell are you?"

The man chuckled darkly.

"I am a member of the esteemed Thalmor. We have recently sent a branch out to Valenwood to after acertaining that there were enough Altmer here to be concerned in, ah, buisiness, here. We also observe the behavior of the Bosmer here."

"Yeah, well what does that have to to with me?" Gosver asked roughly. "I'm not in charge around here, try the House of White Moss."

The man let out another chuckle and shook his head.

"Oh we've been. Actually, the conversation I had with the village elder is what caused me to come here. You see, I hear you daughter is a marvel with a bow. A little training and, well, she could be quite the asset to the Thalmor... "

"What? No! She's five years old! Yes, she's amazing with a bow, but it doesn't mean she's some super warrior! You can't have her, now get the hell away from my house!"

"I can't garuntee you won't regret this decision in the future, Gosver."

The reply was a wood axe that narrowly missed his head.

And then years passed. With each year, Falja grew stronger and more and more talented with all assortments of weaponry. By her 19th birthday, she was recognized as the strongest female in her village. There was much to celebrate, but the most anticipated was the hair tying ceremony. An old Bosmer tradition, Falja's hair was tied up in to an intricate design. The right side of her hair was allowed to hang down, where it went past her shoulders. The rest was pulled into a tight bun. Four braids,two on either sides of her head, curved back into the bun. Tradition dictated that her hair could be taken out of this fashion only after she had lain with the man she felt she truly loved, and he had to be the one to undo it. A pin imbued with glowing blue magicka sealed her hair, and the celebration insued.

Not more than a day later, her mother was visited by three strange men dressed in elaborate black robes. All but one were High Elves. One was a Wood Elf.

"Hello, sister. I'm sure we greet you well, in these times. Word is your daughter has come of age."

Kjera frowned deeply at being reffered to as sister by an Altmer. As she folded the clothes she had just washed, she sized them up. The Wood Elf was very quiet, obviously not a good sign. The High Elf who was not speaking was sweeping the house with his eyes, taking in the layout of her small bedroom to find the best cover, no doubt. As for the last elf...

"Cut to the chase,Altmer. I know you want my daughter for your little army or whatever. Of age or not, the answer is no. Talos as my witness, you will leave this house!"

"Talos?" the man scoffed. "Talos worship? And I thought the people of this filthy tree-slum went by the old traditions! And here you are, speaking of that Nordic garbage."

There was a muffled step outside the door, clearly from the stairs. Kjera recognized it as her daughter's footsteps. Acting fast, she attempted to look nonchalant as she let out a small chuckle, looked down at her feet, kicked them at nothing in particular , and let out three earpiercing whistles. It was a warning call, and Falja must have gotten it, as she stopped just before reaching the door, which was slightly open.

Kjera bit her lip and quickly realized she'd made a mistake Looking up, she turned to see the wood elf's reaction, who wouldve undoubtedly recognized the whistle.

He was quiet.

"So, you barge into my home, demand my daughter, and insult my gods? You have some nerve you snobbish High Elf ass."

Fury filled the man's eyes as he steped forward to get in Kjera's face. He stood a whole head and a half taller, but Kjera was by far more intimidating.

"Talos worship is officially outlawed," He spat. "We could punish you severely for this blasphemy. But we may be willing to overlook it if your daughter was to join us..."

Kjera stood her ground.

"To Oblivion with your laws."

The man frowned, and stepped back. He snapped his fingers and the two men moved into action. Outside there was a sudden clanging of metal together, and a shouts poured in from the roads.

Befor she had time to react, Kjera felt a hand on her shoulder, pushing her down on to her knees and heard a bow string being pulled back as far as it could go. This wasn't a shake down anymore. It was an execution.

"Well Kjera, I see we can't see eye to eye on this. Last chance to save yourself before my Bosmer friend here causes a scene."

Kjera looked straight at the door. Through the tiny gap that was left open, she could see Falja kneeling down and looking through it.

"I only have this to say. I love my faimily, and I truly love my daughter. I know Sovngarde is not open to the elves, though I wish it so, but I hope wherever my soul goes, Talos's light may be there to guide it."

"Well said."

The snap as the Bosmer released the string was more sickening to Falja then seeing it go through her mother's head. Suddenly remembering she could be next, she rose and ran.

"After her!"

Flying past the stairs and out the door she watched her father struggling to keep off a guard with an old sword that hadn't been sharpened in years.

"Falja! Run! Go!"

Falja brandished her own sword and started forward.

"No! Go! Please Falja, I'll be all right!" she didn't believe him. She stood, unsure of what to do while her father held off the other man's sword. His eyes begged to go.

Running faster than she ever thought she could, she left. Tears streamed down her face and she screamed out as she heard a man groan out his last breath. Whether that breath was her father's or his assailant's, she would never know.

'Where do i go? Where do I go? Where do i go?'

She stopped only after hours of running. She didn't even know if she was still being chased, but it was dark, and the chances of being found were slim.

She curled into herself, feeling cold and alone as she tried to gather her racing thoughts. Her parents were dead, She'd no where to go, and Valenwood wasn't safe anymore. She sighed and clutched a hand around her mother's amulet for comfort. Gasping, she stood, tearing it from her neck so she could look at it.

Her mother had been right, there was no Sovngarde for the elven dead, only the nords. But where the nords were, a part of her heart was, also. There could be no waiting, no idle time spent fiddling with the notion. She had to get to Skyrim. There were no if, ands, or buts about it. She needed to go and she would do whatever it took to get there.

A moment ago her legs were worn, her feet and legs ached, and her lungs burned. But now she didn't care. And so she took off sprinting in the completely wrong direction.

Through the mountains, past the snowy hills and under the noses of the unsuspecting Nords, Falja reached Skyrim within a month. Screaming and dancing, she kicked up snow and laughed, happy to be in the place of the forefathers. What was more, her amulet now glowed with blue magicka, reminding her of the woman who payed the ultimate price to protect her.

Her celebration had been cut short, however, as the sounds of swords clashing filled the cold air.

Unsheating her Elven sword she ran toward the sound. There, men in bright red armour were all working to overtake one helpless looking older man.

"Get away from him, you creeps!"

Rushing in, she slashed at one the the guards who would've otherwise killed the man. Behind her there was a great shout of "FUS-", but was cut off by what must've been a gag. The last thing she saw before her vision went black was the sky above her, and she heard her mother call her in the distance.

Falja groaned as she reawakened. She was in a cart with other prisoners who were all dressed in rags.

"Finally coming 'round, eh?"

She looked up blearily to see a kind faced nord smile at her.

"You got caught up in an Imperial-Stormcloak scuffle. Saved Ulfric the way I heard it."

He jerked his head toward the back of the cart where the man from earlier sat, gagged. Her was staring furiosly at the floor, but at the mention of his name he looked up, and locked eyes with Falja.

His eyes softened, and he nodded at her in a silent thank you.

Falja smiled in return and turned back to the kind faced Nord.

"Name's Ralof. I'm a Stormcloak troop. Figure there's no harm in telling you if we're going to die soon any way."

One of the passengers started panicking.

"Die? What? No! I didn't do anything! I'm too young to-"

"Can it, theif. You should've known better than to steal so close to a fight."

He started whining again until the guard on the horse behind the cart told him to shut up.

"So we're being executed?" Falja asked, surprisingly calm. "Where exactly are they taking us?"

"Helgen. It's the nearest place with a block."

"Fantastic."

Falja again turned to the gagged man, Ulfric. To her surprise he was still staring at her, confusion in his eyes.

"I think he's wondering why an Elf would save him," Ralof mumbled.

Ulfric let out and annoyed hum from under the gag, sighing in an equally annoyed matter as he remembered he couldn't talk.

"Why wouldn't I save someone who was getting attacked?"

"It's not that simple, lass. You see-"

The cart jerked suddenly as it came to an abrupt stop and they reached their destination.

"No! No! I'm innocent! Please!"

Falja rolled her eyes as the theif had to be jerked out of the cart. Then the names of the captured were read aloud. Falja's name, as she expected, was not on the list.

"Hey! Elf!" (Ulfric let out another annoyed hum.) "Who're you?"

"Falja, sir."

"Falja what?"

"Falja ass down the stairs!" was one of the guards snarky calls. A few of the younger guards laughed, but no one else found it funny.

"Falja Everglen."

The guard checked the list over again before calling out to his superior.

"Hey! The Elf isnt on the list!" (Ulfric sighed, giving up) "Whadda we do?"

"Kill her, too. You can never be too sure with these Stormcloak types."

As they started moving toward the block, a great rumble could be heard in the distance. Clearly, some heard it, but others were too distracted by the thief attempting to get away.

"Alright, lets get this over with."

One of the men stepped up to the block, bypassing the priest. As his head rolled away, another rumble was heard. This time the guard asked what to do about it.

"Just ignore it. Elf! You next!"

Falja sighed, disgusted as she pressed her face into the pool of warm blood from the last prisoner. As the executioner raised his blade, the source of the rumbling was revealed. A massive black dragon perched itself on the building above, and blew fire in every direction. What was scarier still, it was speaking.

And Falja could understand it.

A/N: Hey guys! Well this here is my first ever anything for Skyrim! I do hope you enjoy! Read and review.