There was nothing like ice cold stone against his bare skin to wake him up. As he jolted upright, his eyes scanned the land around him, finding it wholly unfamiliar, and cold. He slowly stood up, furrowing his brow and muttering curses of Sheogorath's name. He should have expected making such deals with the Daedric Lord of Madness to end in nothing but betrayal and confusion. He hadn't expected the Prince of Madness to return to the Shivering Isles, not after that troublesome battle with Jyggalag, which had cost him true sight in one of his eyes. Yet still, he remembered very clearly the moment when Sheogorath came back.
***
The air around him suddenly changed. There was a far more dream like mist to it. Sheogorath's laughter was the first thing he heard, and then his eyes fell upon the Daedra's face. Sheogorath wore the smile he always did, and his voice rang clear as day through the throne room around them. "Ah! Looks like y'did a fine job of keeping the place in perfect disorder while I was away!" Haskill's attention was caught immediately, and he turned to his lord in disbelief.
Alleyar stood from his throne, furrowing a brow. It was both a relief and a burden to see Sheogorath, though the feeling in his gut told him it was going to end up being far more of the latter. "And you've returned far earlier than expected. I thought you sealed away for eternity." He leaned upon his staff.
"So did I! Not much fun, that, is it?" the Daedra laughed, "But now I'm back, and I've come to reclaim what is mine."
The Dunmer narrowed his eyes. "And at what cost? I only assume your madness will be the death of me."
Sheogorath shook his head. "And what fun would that be? No, no, no! Not after all you've done for me! I mean, just look at this place! Despair and jubilance all around! Intertwined like a tangled spool'a rope!"
Alleyar frowned and gripped his fingers around the head of his staff. "It wasn't of my making, Sheogorath. This place has a life of its own. I have been its ruler for decades, and yet I see no influence of my own in these lands. It is still your domain. I assume it always has been." Alleyar stepped down from the throne as Sheogorath began to walk toward him. The two met in the middle of the carpet.
"And that would make you a smart one!" Sheogorath smirked. "Turns out that there's no getting rid of me. Order, chaos, the two don't exist without the other. Which is why I need my throne back, and-" The staff in Alleyar's hands flew into Sheogorath's grip. "-a staff with such unique properties as your own. I really must thank you, you know. I can't imagine what would have become of this place while Jyggalag was having his way somewhere else." Haskill stepped forward, as if he knew exactly when Sheogorath was going to call his name, which he may well have, indeed. "Haskill! We should bid our 'Prince of the Isles' farewell. His presence can't be here while I rebuild."
Alleyar tensed, hand sliding back to rest on the hilt of his sword. "I would hope you don't wish to kill me. I defeated Jyggalag, and I can do the same to you."
Sheogorath burst into laugh-cackles, shaking his head. "Always with the killing! You assume your that important, which you are, but you're also not. Ahhh, no. I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to send you back." Alleyar felt the ground quake beneath his feet, steadying himself and looking around the room. He noticed the walls falling apart like ashes, flying into blackness. "You see, while we're both here, the realm is in tatters." He looked back to Sheogorath, "It's going to take a long while to put this all back together. I assume that's around when you'll arrive home."
"What?" Alleyar said shortly before another quake.
"Or you may arrive far before any of this ever happened! Who knows! I can't guarantee when you'll be anywhere at all, but I can guarantee that you'll be there."
The Dunmer growled out, "You bastard! I have no need for your insane babbling!"
"Nor have I need for you to be here. So this is when I say, 'farewell'." Sheogorath smiled, and with a wave, a huge gust of wind sucked Alleyar backwards. He felt like he had flown in the air for eons, and when he came into contact with the ground again, it was right where he know woozily stood.
"Sod... I should have never stopped the Greymarch!" he shouted to the skies above, "I should have let you rot in your own festering insanity!" He looked down, what was he wearing? Tattered rags? He had been wearing priceless garments from the Isles, before. No doubt, another part of Sheogorath's plan. His weapons both powerful and rare, were also missing. He kicked the dirt beneath his linen wrapped feet, "Damn you, you rotten ass!" but just before his voice could roar out another insult, he heard footsteps.
They were armored, and twenty feet off, from what his elven ears could hear. He spun around, looking in the direction of the sound. His able eye could see nothing, and the breeze in the air made spotting shuffling foliage impossible. He sneered, then began to reexamine his surroundings. It was cold, there was a lack of the vibrancy Cyrodiil held, and the trees and plants looked relatively foreign. Concluding that he had no idea where he was, he settled on heading in the direction of the sun. He did so silently, with no wish to gain the attention of a possible enemy.
He walked for almost fifty yards, keeping his eyes on the skies, yet still, there was no sign of a road. As he neared what looked like a thick patch of bush, he slowed, hearing approaching horses from the other side, walking at a controlled pace. Perfect. He thought, At least now I know there are people.
"You!" he heard someone call to him in a hushed tone. He looked back, spotting what looked like a young Nord. "Yes, you! Dunmer!" The Nord neared him. "You look to be in a lost state."
Alleyar grunted, looking away. "What of it? You wish to try and rob me further? There is nothing left to steal."
"No!" the Nord said in defense, "I'm Lokir, I'm in the same situation as you!"
"I find that highly unlikely." the Dunmer sighed, one brow steeply arching.
Lokir shrugged. "We're both on our own, with no weapons or food, nor coin. I'd say we're closer in circumstance than you believe. Listen, all I need is your help. There could be coin in it for you."
Though reluctant, Alleyar found no other real choice but to listen. "... What is it you need help with?"
"Just... I'm not strong enough, but you look like you are! There's a rock over yonder, if you move it, we can get to the road!"
"What coin is there to be had in moving a sodding rock?!" Alleyar snapped.
Lokir pulled back in mild surprise, but continued on all the same. "The coin comes afterwards, I promise! Please, just move the rock, it will help both of us!"
Once again, what other choice did he have? To go and move the boulder for himself? He'd end up helping, either way. "... Fine."
With a small smile, Lokir began to lead the way. Alleyar followed, and soon saw the rock of which Lokir spoke. It was indeed hefty, but Alleyar had moved larger statues. He approached the rock silently, looking for the best spot to place it.
After a few moments, he gripped the boulder, muscles beginning to flex and strain as he pulled the rock aside with a grunt. Before he could even react, Lokir had run through the opening, and headed down a small hill to the road. The horses were approaching, each mounted by a civilian. Alleyar began to head down the hill, after Lokir, when he saw the Nord quickly run up to one of the horses.
Lokir grabbed the man atop the horse, yanking him off to the ground. "Hey!" Alleyar shouted out as he ran over. Lokir payed no heed, climbing onto the horse and rearing it up on its hind legs to force its rightful owner and Alleyar to both back away. Lokir raced away, while the other rider dismounted her horse. Alleyar quickly climbed atop it.
"What are you doing!?" shouted the maiden.
"I'll bring them both back, I promise you!" Alleyar insisted, then speeding the horse after Lokir. It wasn't hard to keep pace with the other horse, and though Lokir had a lead, he wasn't as skilled a rider as Alleyar, who was slowly gaining. "Come back, you bastard!" Alleyar roared. Lokir said nothing.
However, Lokir was suddenly forced to halt when he saw something that made him go sheet white. "U-... Ulfric!"
He had little reason to pay heed to a name he knew nothing of, so Alleyar stopped his horse next to Lokir, grabbing him by the collar. "You'll take the horse back, or I'll break your arms!"
"Ul-Ulf..." Lokir pointed towards the blockage. Alleyar looked in the direction of his hand, seeing five other Nords, all wearing matching armor but one, who was dressed in a far more expensive manner. Two of the armored flanked either side of the aristocrat, who rode on a very fine horse. He assumed this to be 'Ulfric'.
"Halt!" was all either of them heard before a rush of twenty Imperial guards came rushing from the trees and bushes. Alleyar saw them approaching from behind, as well, locking Lokir and himself into the fray. The first arrow fired landed directly in the rump of the Ulfric's horse, who reared up before falling over, knocking its rider to the ground. The armored Nords each drew a weapon, but were quickly overtaken by the forces.
"Get off the horses!" One of the guards ordered, his sword drawn. Alleyar looked at him for a while, eyes almost glaring, then yanked Lokir off the horse, and dismounted. Lokir fell flat on his face, and was then hoisted up by another guard. The sword stayed drawn, now poised at Alleyar's throat. "You have three seconds to tell me what you're doing here."
Just before Alleyar could speak, he heard another guard interrupt, who had come rushing from behind on horseback, followed by another guard on his own horse. Behind each of them, sitting on the extra space on the saddles, were the riders the horses had been taken from, "These two are thieves, captain!"
"I'm no thief! I was trying to catch this one and make him bring the horse back!" Alleyar protested, though he was cut short by the tip of the sword poking at his jaw.
The captain, who held the blade, looked to the two riders, "Is this true?"
The maiden gazed at Alleyar, with just a flicker of regret in her eyes. "No. They were both working together. The Nord pulled my husband from his horse, and this Dunmer pulled me from mine." In that instant, Alleyar felt his chest grow chilled. He looked directly into her eyes for a moment longer, piercing her with his gaze.
"Take these two along with Ulfric and his lieutenants." the captain said with a hint of distain. Alleyar kept his eyes fixed on the maiden as he was bound. He only broke eye contact when he was forced to turn around.
"Typical of men to assume a mer has done wrong." he said lowly.
The guard who led him glared over his shoulder, "You be quiet, Dunmer. Your kind are in a bad enough light as it is."
"No doubt you thought I was trying to steal the horse to eat it, right? Because I'm a greyskin?" Alleyar spouted. He couldn't help but provoke. However, it turned out to not be such a good plan, as the hilt of the guard's blade met with his temple, and everything fell into blackness.
It remained that way for a while yet, until the sounds of wooden wheels against stone paved roads pulled him from his forced slumber. He slowly lifted his head, gaining the notice of one of the captured Nords, "Hey, you. Finally awake! You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial Ambush, same as us, and that thief over there." The blonde looked sidelong at Lokir.
"Damn you Stormcloaks..." Lokir grumbled, "Skyrim was fine until you came a long. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell."
"Don't think yourself that lucky, swine." Alleyar replied, still groggy from his headache.
"You and me shouldn't be here." Lokir looked to the Dunmer, "It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."
"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." The other Nord offered.
Alleyar looked away, out of the wagon they were being hauled in. "In that regard you are right." He said simply, falling silent afterwards.