The Dragonborn of Kirkwall

My name is Melody Hawke. I was born a few months after the Qunari attack in Kirkwall. My mother didn't know until after visiting my uncle, Carver, at the Grey Warden Fort he lived at. According to my adopted dwarf uncle, Varric, my mother thought she passed out from traveling so hard and so far, but a mage had to tell her she was with child. She had only slept one night with one man, and she knew that it was going to be difficult telling the brooding elf that he was going to be a father. So, she didn't. She trusted a few of her friends with the secret, at least those who could keep quiet in front of my father. Some of them wondered why my father wasn't allowed to know; she answered in silence. Was it because he left her, and having a child wouldn't matter? Would it give him a reason to leave the city? No, she knew that my father would worry more about his old master coming back to kill him or use whatever means necessary to force my father back into slavery. It didn't matter in the end. Fenris, my father, walked by my mother's family mansion, wondering why he hadn't seen much of her since she came back from seeing her brother. The very moment he was going to turn away, still ashamed of leaving her that fateful night, my mother's scream reached him. "Hawke!" He broke down the door reaching for his weapon. "Uh-oh, Broody's here." Varric stopped with a bowl of water, hot in his hands. "What is going on? Is Hawke injured?" my father almost demanded answers. My mother screamed again. "Varric!" A mage named Anders yelled down the stairway. "Where is that...?" He stopped when he saw my father. "You have a lot of nerve coming here, Elf! Of all times to storm through that door..." "I heard screaming, what's your excuse, Mage?" "Now, now you two," Varric said. "I promised Hawke that I wouldn't take Bianca out in her house. Especially now. Don't make me a liar." My mother screamed again in agony, and all three men rushed to her chambers. She was covered with sweat, and when my father saw her, he knew. He rushed to her side, holding her hand. "You're nearly there, Hawke, just a few more pushes. Keep breathing." Anders instructed her, then looked at Fenris. "You can stay for her sake, but if she asks you to leave..." "Don't worry; I will." I was born minutes later — a baby girl who indeed resembled her father, even his markings. My hair was completely black, and my eyes blue like my mother. They were both proud, but their worry grew stronger. My mother didn't know what to do, but I was the only blood family she had left. Her friends became my aunts and uncles who would watch and teach me when my mother, the Champion of Kirkwall, carried out her duties in the city. My father even cleaned up his home so I could live with him every once and awhile. My parents grew closer together because of me, but it all changed. Three years had passed, and I was smarter than the average toddler. I understood that my parents weren't exactly together, but I was just happy, I had a big family. Uncle Varric told me stories to teach me bravery and creativity. Aunt Aveline and her husband, Donnic, taught me about loyalty. Uncle Anders taught me a little magic as well as how to hide it from others (especially from my father). Aunt Merrill taught me to see the bright side of things. Aunt Isabella taught me to have fun. Uncle Sebastian taught me about the Maker and a little bit about how to use a bow. Uncle Carver would visit a few times, teaching me to use a sword. My mother, Mariah Hawke, had taught me to follow my heart to do what I thought was right. My father not only taught me the true meaning of strength but a little lullaby that I could never go to sleep without. Mamae (*Muh-may* what I would call my mother) even tried writing down the lullaby so she wouldn't have to drag Papa to her place. However, I have his stubbornness and would cry and cry until I heard Papa's song from him and him only. Eventually, he would come to my mother's place first before going to his home, and he'd wake up early to go back and see me wake so that I would not be upset. One day, my parents went away to meet with my long lost aunt. Merrill was supposed to come and watch me, but she lost track of time with her secret project that she had in her room. I was taken by someone else. I was only three, but I knew I was in danger. I tried to cry out when an unknown figure swooped down, but I was knocked out with a swift hit on the back of my neck. When I awoke, I saw my parents in horror. The man who held me was my father's old master, I could even smell the blood of his magic, and it terrified me. "Danarius, you bastard!" my father growled, markings glowing. "Now, now, my little Fenris. The girl will not be harmed unless you do as I say." the old mage smiled cruelly. I was so scared, and to prove his point, the mage opened a strange portal at our feet and held me by the arms above it. "However, if you don't answer me soon, my pet, you'll never see your little spawn again." "Let her go!" My mother screamed with a fireball in her hand. "Fenris doesn't belong to anyone, and I will certainly not let you use my daughter in any way." "Ah, so the Champion of Kirkwall is the mother, how interesting. Maybe I can convince you to give me immunity here, Champion." I grew even more scared; the marks that I inherited from my father started to glow and burn Danarius. He yelped in pain and dropped me in the portal. "Melody!" my mother's scream was the last thing I remembered hearing as I fell to Maker knows where. The next thing I knew was that I was on the top of a snowy mountain. My bonds came loose, and I took off my gag. I sat there in the cold, crying, trying to sing my father's lullaby to myself to calm down. Suddenly, I heard a vicious roar from above. A dragon flew down to me. I was too scared to move. He breathed fire in a spot away from me and scooched me gently towards it with his head. As I warmed up, I was no longer afraid. He sheltered me from the wind and snow, allowing me to finish the song before falling asleep under his wing. The next day, a man in dark robes came and took me to what looked like a castle or fortress. There I was kept until I was brought to the nearest village at the base of the mountain. There I stayed with a family of elves until it was time we had no choice but to leave the country. That was twenty years ago. I live out on my own, trying to find a way back. I looked in the Empire, Morrowind, Elswyr, searched the forests and swamps and spoke with every mage I could see. Nothing. My best bet now is returning to the place where I was found, Skyrim. I don't know what I'll find if anything at all, but I have to try. As I grew, so did my marks and every time I use them, my hair turns white. Right now, it's just my bangs that are white, but that's not the problem. The marks are also killing me slowly. I don't know how long I have, but if I can find my family again, I have to try. I have just reached the border. The scenery looks familiar, but I may need a guide, at least for a while. I can't be close to anyone. Just as I thought where to start, a horse with a Nord on it nearly ran me over. "Hey, watch it!" I yell as he rides away. Then I turn around to find an Imperial soldier coming at me. Before I even reach a weapon or ask what in Oblivion is going on, I get hit to the ground. I wake up to the rocking of a wagon. I look down to see my hands tied. An Imperial soldier is driving the cart, and three other men, including the man who nearly ran me over with a horse, are also tied up. One of the other men looks like a soldier, but I am unfamiliar with the crest he carries. The third man looks like a noble, and he has a gag on his mouth. The soldier is relieved that I finally woke up and explained that the ambush was for everyone in the rebellion under Ulfric Stormcloak and that the horse thief and I got captured because the Imperials thought that we were with them. I didn't understand, for I have been away from Skyrim since I was six and have had no interest in wars and rebellions. I have one goal, but it just will have to wait until I'm free. We're approaching gates to a small town. Helgen. As we pass through the gates, the soldier points out that the general of the Imperial army is here along with the Thalmor or High Elves. When people look at me, they think that I'm a High Elf and Wood Elf hybrid. They are only partially right. I'm half-elf, half-human, but here it's complicated. It's not like back home where the only differences with humans and elves are where they're from. Here, there are three types of humans and about four technical types of elves. Nords, Bretons, and Imperials are humans. High Elves, Wood Elves, Dark Elves, and Orcs are the elves. Had I not grew up in this world, I'd be baffled. Back home, we have City Elves and Dalish Elves, and as for humans, it depended on where they were from and what land or city that they called home. The carts have come to a stop. I see an executioner's block. As I silently figure out what is going to happen, the thief panics, calling out for his Divines, his gods. We step off the cart as a woman who appears to be a captain orders the man next to her to go through the list in his hand. One by one, names are called to line up to the block. They must be checking that they have everyone. They call the thief's name. "I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" He runs. "Halt!" The captain yells. "You're not gonna kill me!" He nears the gate. "Archers!" The captain shouts her order, and as he fell to the ground, I look away. "Anyone else feel like running?" it sounds like she is daring everyone to try to escape. He was a thief, but he didn't deserve to die. I wish to tell the captain that she is nothing but a cowardly b***h, but she'd kill me next. Plus, no one respects elves here. With the fact that I look like one, they'll just be happy to get rid of another pointy-eared wench. "You there, step forward." the Imperial with the list looks at me. "Who are you?" "Melody Hawke."