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Chapter Text

I awoke with a splitting headache and the world was bouncing and rolling like crazy. The sound of creaking wheels and horse’s hooves broke the silence. Sunshine and shade dappled across my closed eyelids, and a fresh breeze made me realize how underdressed I suddenly felt. To make matters worse, my hands were bound in front of me. I groaned softly and sat up. I was on a carriage on a road that looked the worst for wear, trees looming overhead against a blue backdrop.

“Hey, you. You’re finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there.”

Confusion clouded my head. I had heard this conversation before a thousand times to know what it meant, and I didn’t like where this was headed. I looked at the man who spoke and was surprised at how handsome he looked when he wasn’t pixelated with his honey-blonde hair and brown eyes. I realized that I was staring at him, so I turned my head to look at two other men. I recognized both men from the many times I played through Skyrim.

The man named Lokir spoke up. Lokir of Rorikstead had a hawk-like beak of a nose adorning a pinched-in face, his dark hair and eyes flashing with anger and resentment as he yelled at Ralof.

“Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn’t been looking for you, I could’ve stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell. You there. You and me- we shouldn’t be here. It’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants.”

I nodded in time to his words, though the action hurt my head. Before Ralof could speak, I said, “We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief.” Ralof shot me a look as if to say “What are you doing?”

“Shut up back there!” the Imperial soldier shouts without bothering to look back.

I notice Lokir look at the gagged man and know what is coming next. Ralof leans in and whispers to me, “How did you know what I was going to say, lass?”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have stolen your line.”

“My line? You aren’t from around here, are you?”

“Understatement of the decade.” I reach up with bound hands, trying to ascertain why my head hurts so bad and my fingers come away wet with blood. I feel sick to the stomach. I never could abide the sight of blood, which is why I prefer Skyrim over the Fallout series.

Lokir speaks up, “And what’s wrong with him?”

“Watch your tongue! You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King.”

Ulfric Stormcloak was a great, big man with hair and beard the same honey blonde as Ralof, but with eyes as gray as a stormy sky. He easily dwarfed over the smaller form of Lokir. Even though Ralof, himself, wasn’t really much smaller than Ulfric, he lacked the sheer muscular mass of the Jarl of Windhelm.
I watched the wheels connect in Lokir’s head as the implications sunk into his little brain. “Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You’re the leader of the rebellion. But if they captured you… Oh gods, where are they taking us?”

My head was throbbing like crazy, and I didn’t feel like putting up with this conversation right now. It was torture starting up the game and reliving this conversation over and over again. Now I was hearing it in person, it suddenly took on new implications. My face went pale as I realized the implications. I was bleeding. This was real!

“I don’t know where we’re going, but Sovngarde awaits.”

“Maybe for you,” I retort.

“No, this can’t be happening. This isn’t happening.” Lokir cut in before I could explain that Sovngarde only worked if you were a true Nord and not a milk-drinking thief like Lokir. Once again, Ralof shot me a strange look.

“Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?” Ralof asked Lokir.

“Why do you care?” I mouthed along to Ralof’s words, seeing as how I practically had them all memorized. Now Lokir and Ulfric were looking at me, too.

“You’ve heard this conversation before, lass?” Ralof asked me.

“Lokir is predictable, that’s all,” I answered, my explanation sounding lame to my ears.

“Nonsense, lass. You anticipated his words and then you shot a look at me as if you knew that I was going to speak next.” Ralof’s eyes narrow suspiciously.

“A Nord’s last words should be of home,” I say with a resigned sigh. “That is what you were going to say, was it not?”

“How did you know my name is Lokir?” The man asked suspiciously.

“I know many things, horse thief,” I say. “Horse thief from Rorikstead.”

“Rorikstead?” Ralof snorted, and so did Ulfric.

“Blink and you miss it,” I teased. Lokir glared at me.

I noticed the village of Helgen up ahead and suddenly felt a twinge of nausea rise up in my stomach. Lokir sulked as we mocked his village. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about what was going to happen next.

The wagon wended its way through the streets of Helgen and I looked at Ralof but didn’t say anything. “Lass, you know something,” Ralof said.

“I know a great many things, and I know I don’t want to be here,” I said in a snarky voice, my head throbbing in rhythm to the creaking of the wheels. “My head hurts bad.”

“Well you took quite the hit to the head there,” Lokir spoke up, I shot him a glare.

I heard an Imperial soldier speak in the distance. “General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!”

General Tullius? I looked around and found the bastard looking smug. “Good, let’s get this over with.”

Lokir started praying, and I shot him an amused glance knowing his cowardly fate. “Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines please help me.”

Ralof spoke up. “Look at him, General Tullius the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this.” He looked around him and noticed where we were. “This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in.”

“Is this Vilod attractive?” I ask curiously, for some reason feeling a twinge of jealousy at the mention of another woman. It was silly, I know, but I couldn’t help but notice small details about Ralof that had been less defined in the game. For one thing, his muscles.

“Yes, she is. Why do you ask, lass?” He looks at me curiously.

I blushed as I realized that I was staring at Ralof like he was a piece of meat. I see Ulfric staring at me in much the same way and my blush deepens. “I was just curious, is all,” I answer, aware of how hot my face feels under the scrutiny of the two men in the wagon.

A man and son were sitting in front of their house and watching the procession of wagons drive past them. The young boy pointed out at the wagon curiously. This was probably more excitement than he had ever seen before. I took note of the boy because I realized that his parents would be dead before the day was out.

“Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?”

“You need to go inside, little cub.” The man spoke. I remembered that his name was Torolf, and the little boy was named Haming.

“Why?” Haming asked innocently. “I want to watch the soldiers.”

“Inside the house. Now.” I looked back at Torolf and realized that this man who cared for his son’s mental well-being was going to die not too long from now. I looked at Ralof who saw the expression of resignation on my face.

“Lass, that is the expression of one who knows something bad is about to happen.” I looked at Ralof, surprised by his insight. Before I could speak, the wagon came to a complete stop.

“There is nothing that I can do to stop what is about to happen,” I said in a resigned tone as the opening of Skyrim unfolded around me. I watched as the light of truth dawned in Lokir’s eyes.

“Why are they stopping?” Lokir’s voice sounded as shaky as my stomach felt.

“Why do you think? End of the Line. Let’s go. Shouldn’t keep the gods waiting for us.” I felt closer to Ralof than I ever had before. I looked at him with appreciative eyes and winked at him. He smiled back, cheekily returning the wink.

“You’ve got to tell them! We weren’t with you! This is a mistake!

The imperial captain rolled her eyes as if she had heard this line a thousand times. “Step toward the block when we call your name. One at a time!”

“Empire loves their damned lists,” Ralof said to me. I could see he wanted to say more, but the man up ahead started shouting names.

“Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm,” Hadvar announced.

“It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!” Ralof shouted as the stately and handsome man in the clothes of a Jarl stepped down from the wagon.

“Ralof of Riverwood,” Hadvar announced. I watched Ralof leave the wagon and take his place with the other prisoners. “Lokir of Rorikstead.”

“No, I’m not a rebel! You can’t do this!”

I watched him make a break for it, and I couldn’t look away as I heard the inevitable barking order of “Halt!” from the Imperial Captain.

“You’re not going to kill me!” Lokir shouted and the Imperial Captain shouted, “Archers!”

It was too late to look away as the arrow found its mark. I felt like I was going to vomit, and not just because of the headache. It was one thing to watch Lokir die in the video game, but the grim reality struck me harder watching it in real life. He didn’t rag doll-like in the game. If all it took was one arrow to snuff a life, then I could actually die without a reset.

“Anyone else feel like running?” I was staring in stunned horror at the splayed body of Lokir. It was so sudden and final, and I realized that I wasn’t as desensitized to violence as I thought I was.

“Wait, you there. Step forwards. Who are you?” Hadvar’s voice cut through the pain and the fog in my head, reminding me that I was up next.

It’s at this point in the game where I would have the luxury of picking my race, gender, and appearance, even my name. I would have normally taken a Kajit, stealthy and strong. But now, I was stuck with my petite frame, red hair and green eyes, and skin paler than any option the game would give. Chances are they’d think I was some sort of Nord farm girl.

“I am Emma Steele,” I say bluntly. “And I doubt you would recognize the name of the city where I am from.”

“It doesn’t matter,” the guard said. “She goes on the block.”

“By your orders, Captain,” he said, and I mimicked him precisely. “We’ll see to it that you receive a nice burial,” he looked at me as if ashamed that I was being included in this mess.

I went and stood next to Ralof and I barely came up to his shoulder. He was warm and real and solid. I felt comforted by his presence in a way I never had before. He looked at me as if wondering why I was standing so close to him. The truth was that I was scared, and he was literally the first person I saw in this world upon waking. I looked up into his eyes and he returned my gaze, a softness in his eyes, and something else.

Tullius spoke up, breaking the moment, and I looked at the silver-haired bastard in annoyance. “Ulfric Stormcloak, some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn’t use a power like the voice to murder his king and usurp his throne,” Ulfric grunted in response to the accusations and I felt his gaze on me briefly before Tullius continued.

“You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace.”

I heard the sound of Alduin and looked off in the distance, praying for a miracle. The last thing I wanted was to go to the headsman’s block and actually die. “What’s that?” Hadvar asked, to which Tullius responded, “It’s nothing, carry on.”

The Imperial Captain nodded, “Yes General Tullius. Give them their last rites.”

I groaned softly as I realized what was about to happen. Ralof looked at me. “What is it?”

“As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved—” I listened to the priestess start their blessing and couldn't help but wonder how the rest of that would have sounded had she been allowed to continue.

“There is a dragon headed our way,” I say to Ralof as a prisoner steps forward and shouts for the priestess to shut up because we haven’t got all day. Ulfric was looking at me again, a strange expression on his face.

“As you wish…” the priestess sounded genuinely pissed off at the prisoner’s interruption.

“A dragon, you say, lass?” Ralof looked at me as if I lost my mind. “There hasn’t been one of those for a thousand years.”

I watched as the prisoner knelt and placed his head on the chopping block. I closed my eyes and buried my face in Ralof’s chest, not at all ashamed to look away from yet another death. I wished that my hands weren’t tied up so that I didn’t have to hear the sound of the axe chopping the man’s head off. The meaty thunk sickened me and I gagged at the sound. “Courage lass, it will be over soon,” Ralof whispered to me.

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the next one to the chopping block,” I snapped to which Ralof simply chuckled as if I had said something funny.

One of the Stormcloaks shouted out, “You Imperial bastards!”

“Justice!” Vilod shouted from the onlookers who came to gawk. I didn’t feel as sad about her imminent demise, and then I remembered that Ralof used to be sweet on her.

“Death to the Stormcloaks!” shouted Ingrid. I glared at the woman.

“As fearless in death as he was in life,” Ralof said, and I looked at him, knowing that I was next.

“Next, the redhead!” the Imperial Captain shouted. I ignore her out of spite.

Once again, Alduin’s roar ripped through the air, and again, I looked in the direction I knew the dragon was going to come from. Ralof and Ulfric look at me, remembering what I said about a dragon showing up, and I wink at both men.

“There it is again! Did you hear that?” Hadvar sounded spooked.

“I said, next prisoner!” the Imperial Captain shouted.

“To the block, prisoner. Nice and Easy.” I glared at Hadvar, knowing that he was just doing his job, but I was only able to feel resentment towards him, nonetheless.

I was brought to the chopping block, and I avoided looking at the body of the dead prisoner, blood pooling around the stump of his neck. I was forced to my knees, and I couldn’t help but notice the severed head below me. I closed my eyes, seeing the form of Alduin in my mind’s eye heading towards Helgen like a winged angel of death. A fire-breathing angel of death.

“What in Oblivion is that?” Tullius shouted.

“Sentries! What do you see?” The Imperial Captain shouted.

“It’s in the clouds!” One of the soldiers shouted in alarm.

Two things happened simultaneously. A massive dragon, black and horrifying to look upon, landed on the nearby tower, causing the land to shake. At the same time, the executioner who was hell-bent on chopping my head off, positioned the axe to swing it down on my neck. I screamed as Alduin shouted, killing the headsman instantly with the force of his shout. I was covered in the man’s blood, too horrified by the gruesome way he died to make a move for safety.

Alduin overshadowed me, raining death and destruction literally down upon the sleepy village of Helgen. People ran and screamed and died. It was pure pandemonium. I had always taken Alduin’s appearance for granted as a means of continuing the story, but now, seeing him up close and personal, I realized how horrifying he truly was.

“Hey, lass! Get up! Come on, the gods won’t give us another chance! This way!” Ralof dragged me by the wrists to the tower where other prisoners were running for shelter from the rain of fire and rocks. Ulfric was standing there, looking calm and stoic, the gag removed as well as the bindings. He looked more imposing up close, and I was aware of his eyes on me.

Before Ralof could say anything to me, Ulfric spoke to me. “You knew what that thing was!” He said almost accusingly. “Did you have something to do with this?”

I snorted derisively. “No, but you should be thanking the Nine Divines that it showed up when it did!”

Ralof looked at me in confusion. “If you know something, lass…”

“As I said, I know a lot of things,” I retorted.

“We need to move, now!” Ulfric shouted.

“Up through the tower. Let’s go, friend! Move!” Ralof took command and pushed me up the tower stairs. I pushed Ralof back as the dragon broke through the tower wall, blasting fire everywhere. Again, I was unable to look away in time as a man was horribly crushed to death by the falling masonry of the tower wall.

The dragon left to spread more death and destruction as Ralof pulled me up the stairs. My stomach heaved as I remembered that I was expected to jump onto that roof. I was not athletic, and the thought of trying to make that jump had me shaking with fear.

“See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going! Go! We’ll follow you when we can!”

“I can’t!” I shouted, paralyzed by fear.

“You have no choice in the matter!” Ralof shouted at me. “I know you’re scared, lass, but you are stronger than you think you are! We’ll survive this. Now jump!”

Without stopping to think about what I was doing, and praying for a miracle, I ran and jumped across the divide and landed on the roof down below. I grabbed onto the first thing that came to hand, which happened to be a twisted piece of wood jutting out at an awkward angle. I pulled myself through the hole in the roof and instinctively followed my instincts, taking a path I had played through a hundred times before in my game play-throughs. But now I was in an actual burning building filled with choking smoke and blazing heat. I dropped to the floor below at the hole in the floor and felt lucky when the worst that happens is that I knocked the wind out of myself. I exited the burning building quickly, gasping for air.

“Haming, you need to get over here now!” I watched Hadvar call the boy.“Thataboy. You’re doing great.”

Torolf shouts, “Gods...everyone get back!”

The dragon landed, bathing the road in front of him in flames. It was a miracle that the boy made it safely without being torched. Torolf wasn’t as lucky. I felt sickened as yet more deaths unfolded before my eyes.

“Still alive prisoner?” Hadvar said. “Keep close to me if you want to stay that way. Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join the defense.”

“Gods guide you, Hadvar,” Gunnar said by way of farewell.

I followed Hadvar towards a burning building. Even though I knew that this was the only safe passage through the burning village, I was not happy about it. “Stay close to the wall!” Hadvar shouted even as I practically hugged the wall, knowing that Alduin was about to make an appearance. “Voor Toor Shul!”

“Quickly, follow me!” I followed him through the burning wreckage of the house, the heat and smoke forced me to speed my way through to the other side. There was absolute carnage and destruction at the main gate up ahead. Archers were loosing arrows as flaming debris fell from the skies. Vilod shouted out, “Tell my family I fought bravely.” Then she was gone. I felt a twinge of guilt at her death.

Tullius saw us and shouted, “Hadvar! Into the keep, soldier, we’re leaving!”

“It’s you and me, prisoner, stay close!” Hadvar ran towards the keep. I heard in the background as one of the soldiers shouted, “Die dragon!” and another shouted, “How in Oblivion do we kill this thing? Just...die!”

I looked up ahead and saw Ralof. My heart soared with delight upon seeing him again. Even though I knew that he was going to make it, I was just glad that I didn’t have to travel with Hadvar longer than necessary.

“Ralof, you damned traitor, out of my way!”

“We’re escaping, Hadvar! You’re not stopping us this time!

“Fine. I hope the dragon takes you all to Sovngarde.”

Ralof noticed me and shouted, “You, come with me into the keep!” Hadvar looked at me and shouted, “With me, prisoner! Let’s go! Come on! We need to get inside!”

It is at this point that I shot Hadvar an apologetic look and went with Ralof into the keep. It wasn’t that I disliked Hadvar or anything, but he was willing to let them execute me. It was nothing personal, but I just didn’t want anything to do with the Empire at that moment.

Once we were inside the keep, Ralof and I saw the dead body. “We’ll meet again in Sovngarde, brother. Looks like we’re the only ones that made it.”

I looked at the dead body in horror and Ralof saw the expression on my face. “Look to me, lass. You don’t strike me as the sort of person who has been around this much death and violence before.”

“No,” I say, eyes tearing up from the pain in my head, combined with fear and nausea. “I mean, I’ve seen it before. It was just never so violent or gory before.”

“Lass, either you grew up with violence, or you didn’t, and I can clearly see that you have not. I don’t know how you knew that the dragon was coming but know that the dragons are the harbingers of end times. We better get moving. Come here and let me see if I can get those bindings off.”

I walked over to him and he cut off my bindings with a dagger. “There you go,” He said as I rubbed my wrists to get the circulation back into them. “May as well take Gunjar’s gear… he won’t be needing it anymore.”
I looked at the dead body and turned green around the gills. I was expected to go through the dead man’s belongings and put them on? “Uhm, I can’t.”

“Lass, what you’re wearing will hardly protect you!” Ralof said patiently. “Let me help you get the gear.” I watched as he stripped the body of its armor and handed it to me. “Alright, get that armor on.”

I tried to ignore the fact that my armor had been worn by a dead man. Ralof wouldn’t understand, but I also realized that he was right. As it was, I didn’t have proper protection. “Turn around,” I said.

Ralof grunted in acknowledgment and turned around. I stripped out of the prisoner's clothes and shoes and put on the armor that turned out to be way too big for me. Ralof grimaced as he realized that the gear wasn’t exactly going to fit on my small, slender frame.

“Let me help you, lass,” He said patiently. He used a length of rope to tighten the pants around my waist and rolled up the legs, making me feel like a child trying on her father’s clothes. He then rolled up my sleeves and cheekily brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I blushed at the contact and felt a wave of heat rush through me.

“Could you not call me lass, please?”

“But that’s what you are.” He handed me an ax and I looked at him like he was crazy. “Give that ax a couple of swings. I’m going to see if I can find some way out of here.”

He walked over to a metal door across from us. “This one’s locked. Let’s see about that gate.” He then walked to the metal gate behind me. “Damn. No way to open this from our side.”

I knew what was going to happen next. I hid behind Ralof as the voice of the Imperial Captain sounded from behind the gate. “Come on, soldier! Keep moving!”

Ralof saw me hiding behind him. He noticed the way I was holding the ax and his lip curled up in a wry smile. “Stay behind me, and I will keep you safe.”

“Get this gate open,” the Imperial Captain barked at the soldier. He pulled the lever and the door swung open.

“Imperial dogs!”

What followed was a brutal fight to the death. Ralof was outnumbered, no thanks to me and my inability to fight. The soldier and his captain attack Ralof and me with blind hatred in their eyes. I cower in the corner while Ralof speedily dispatches both soldiers, taking some damage in the process, a nasty cut across his bicep.

“You really are a babe in the woods, aren’t you?” Ralof asked me as I stared in horror at the cut on his arm. He noticed the direction of my horrified gaze, and then he looked at me. “What? That’s nothing more than a scratch!”

“Nothing more than a scratch?” I shrieked. “Nothing more than a scratch?” I started to hyperventilate as I looked at the wound oozing blood. Ralof grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me roughly. My head protested the sudden motion and I ended up throwing up on the floor. Ralof danced out of the way to avoid getting vomit on him.

“Hold it together, lass!” He snapped. “Now, get your ass in gear and help me find a key. Maybe one of these Imperials had the key.”

I looked away, tears oozing out of my eyes as he went over both bodies. I remembered how casually I used to loot the dead bodies of my enemies in the game and felt like I was going to vomit again. To my credit, I didn’t

“That’s it!” Ralof said triumphantly, holding a key in his hands. “Let’s see if it opens that door.”

“It opens the door,” I say, my face green as I follow him to the door across from us. He ignored me and tried the key in the door.

“That’s it! Come on, let’s get out of here before the dragon brings the whole tower down on our heads.”

I followed him down the stairs, ignoring the cabbages in the cart that I would have taken in an ordinary game. Once we reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw the way ahead of us, but before we could take a step forward, the ceiling collapsed on the men up ahead. I shuddered at the sight of all that broken masonry and followed behind Ralof as he led me to the door ahead. “That dragon doesn’t give up easy,” he said before opening the door.

“Grab everything important and let’s move! The dragon is burning everything to the ground,” an Imperial soldier shouted at his comrade.

“Just need to gather some more potions,” the other man said.

“Escaped prisoners!” the first soldier noticed us and both men attacked us.

One of the soldiers peeled off and went after me, while Ralof went for the first, sword at the ready. I shrieked and covered my head with my arms and the second soldier stared at me in surprise before his head was taken off by Ralof’s sword.

“Lass, you had better learn how to use that ax or you are as good as dead!” Ralof shouted at me.

“I am not a warrior!” I shouted back.

“Don’t I know it!” Ralof looked annoyed. “Look, lass, you are going to have to learn new skills if you are going to survive in Skyrim. I can’t hold your hand throughout all of this. Now, you can choose your weapon, and stick with it. I recommend the sword.”

“Why the sword?” I asked as Ralof handed me a sheathed sword. He helped me fasten the belt to my slender waist. “What makes you think that I can handle a sword any better than I can a bloody ax?”

“It just looks better on you than having you carry around that ‘bloody’ ax,” Ralof countered. “Just stay where I can see you, alright?”

“Alright,” I huffed. “Just so you know, I never swung a sword a day in my life, either.”

“Would you stop stating the obvious and at least do me a favor? See if you can find any potions. We’ll need them.”

I opened the barrel and found a few bottles of liquid that I knew were health potions because of their familiar shape and color. I looked around for other potions and found some potions to restore stamina. Once I was done looking, I found a bag to put the potions in. For the first time, I realized another difference between the video game and real life. There was no inventory bar, so I had to find ways to carry things and limit myself to what I could take.

“Why aren’t you helping me find potions?” I asked snarkily as I searched the room.

“I am busy keeping an eye out for imperials,” Ralof shot back. “Besides, something tells me that you are going to need the potions more than I will.”

I looked pointedly at the injury on Ralof’s arm. “Likely story.”

“It’s just a scratch!” He growled.

I noticed that it was still oozing blood and handed Ralof a healing potion. “Just drink the damn potion,” I order him.

Ralof looked at the green potion and smirked. “Wrong potion, lass.”

I grimaced and grabbed the red potion and handed him that one instead. Looking me dead in the eye, Ralof opened up the potion and drank it in one shot, grimacing at the taste. “Damn, that stuff is bitter,” he said with a shudder. As I watched, the ‘scratch’ on his arm healed up as if by magic. I looked at him as if he had two heads.

“Never seen a healing potion at work, lass?” he asked. “Where exactly are you from that you don’t know how to wield a sword, or any other weapon for that matter? You seem to know that the red potion is the healing one, and yet you don’t know how it works? You say you’ve seen violence, and yet your body language tells a different story?”

“We don’t have all day to discuss this,” I reminded him as the building shook ominously around us.

“You're right, let’s get moving.” I followed him downstairs, knowing that there was a torture chamber up ahead. “Troll’s blood! It’s a torture room. Hear that?”

I watched as Ralof, joined by three other Stormcloaks, took on the torturers. The fight was brief and nasty. The Stormcloak soldiers looked at me askance as I held back from the fight, but Ralof said, “Don’t mind the wee lass, she’s not a warrior.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” the woman said, a smirk on her face. I glared at her much to her amusement.

“Is Ulfric with you?” Ralof asked.

“No, I haven’t seen him since the dragon showed up,” the woman answered.
“Relax your sphincters,” I growled. “Ulfric Stormcloak is fine.”

“How can you know that?” The woman snarled.

“Because he has enough plot armor to choke a mule,” I said flippantly. Ralof traded a look with the woman and two other men, then all four of them turned to me.

“I know because he is Ulfric Stormcloak,” I went. “It’s not as if he is the easiest man to kill.”

The woman relaxed at that and I went off to find some lock picks and coins that I knew were lying around. I listened to Ralof’s voice. Just like clockwork, he speaks up. “Wait a second. Looks like there’s something in this cage. It’s locked. We might need that gold once we get out. Grab anything useful and let’s go.”

Ralof hands me a handful of lock picks. “Put these to good use.”

Knowing that I would need the spell book in the cage, I attempted to pick the locks, but I was so inept at it that one of the men rolled his eyes, took the lock pick, and did it himself. Ralof didn’t say anything about my inability to pull off simple tasks, but I could see the irritation in his eyes.

I went into the cage and took the spell book first, opening it immediately. Just like that, it’s as if I knew instinctively how to pull lightning out of thin air with my hands. The spell book turned to ashes in my hands. I gather up the gold and potions and eye the dead man’s mage robes.

Ralof, seeing my expression, shook his head and muttered, “Damn mages,” before removing the dead man’s robes from his body and handing the robe to me. “Everyone turn your backs so the princess can change her wardrobe.”

The four people snorted and turned their backs while I peeled off the oversized armor and put on the robes that fit me much better. I felt an odd sensation as I put on the robes and realized that they were to allow me to use more magica.

“I may not like the magic,” Ralof said, “but at least you can make yourself useful, lass. Go on, give it a go before we go any further.”

I concentrated on the power I felt coursing through my veins and attempted to channel lightning through my outstretched hands. Nothing happened.

“She’s useless,” the woman snarled. “Let’s just leave her behind.”

“Nonsense, she is not useless,” Ralof retorted. “She is under my protection, and I will not leave her here to die.”

Ralof looked at me, “You will get the hang of magic. Something tells me that you are new at it.”

“Gee, what gave me away?”

“I also realize that you are in pain, grumpy, and scared,” Ralof grabbed a healing potion from the bag. “Drink it, princess. It’ll get rid of that nasty bump on your forehead and get rid of the headache, too. I can’t believe it took me this long to make the connection.”

I took the potion and sipped it, gagging at the taste. It truly was bitter. Ralof forced the rest of the potion down my throat, reminding me to breathe as I tried to rub the taste off of my tongue. To my surprise, the headache and the nausea vanished as if they had never been.

“Anyone hear takes an issue with the princess's answers to me,” Ralof said while pounding on my back as I made choking sounds at the vile flavor. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Ralof,” the three others muttered. From that moment on, they moved on ahead, leaving me and Ralof alone.

“Come along, lass. They won’t wait for long.”

I followed Ralof down the hall that suddenly transitioned from smooth-cut stones to a cavern with jagged walls and a dirt floor. I heard the sound of distant fighting and we arrived just in time to see the remaining Stormcloak soldiers take down the Imperial soldiers up ahead.

“Let’s go ahead. See if the way is clear. Let’s see where this goes.”

I followed Ralof through the room, taking care to avoid the corpses of the Imperial soldiers and ignoring the bows and arrows that were lying around, available for looting. I just couldn’t bring myself to loot more corpses, and I seriously doubted that I could use the damn bow in the first place.

I waited for Ralof to pull the lever that lowered the bridge while the three remaining Stormcloaks secured the rear passage. I ran across the bridge quickly, followed by Ralof. No sooner had we made it across than the ceiling collapsed behind us, crushing the bridge.

“No going back that way, now. We’d better push on. The rest of them will have to find another way out.”

I looked at the stream and said, “I think that may be a dead end.”

“How do you know these things?” Ralof asked, shaking his head and ignoring my advice. He followed the stream to a dead end. “Hmm, you’re right, that doesn’t go anywhere. I guess we better try this way.”

I rolled my eyes and followed him. Then I saw the passage up ahead and balked. There were giant frostbite spiders up ahead, and I couldn’t bring myself to move forward. The thought of all those legs and eyes had my heart pounding.

“Come on, lass, we haven’t got all day,” Ralof sounded impatient to get out of this cave.

We came to the chamber with the spiders, and I followed Ralof, trying not to whimper in terror. Ralof saw the spiders and charged forward to attack. Before I knew it, one of the eight-legged monsters was coming at me. I held out my hands, envisioning a bolt of lightning striking the spider down. At that moment, the power inside of me was released and a bold of lighting arced out from my hand, splattering spider guts everywhere.

Ralof dispatched the remaining monstrosities as I stared at the remains of the splattered spider. Ralof came to me and pulled me into a rough embrace as if he somehow knew that I needed it. “There, there, lass. You did good.”

“That could have just as easily been you!” I exclaim.

“But it wasn’t, now was it?” He kissed my forehead. “You really are a sweet innocent soul, aren’t you?”

“I took a life with magic!” I said, feeling horrified by what I did.

“Aye, lass. You did. But it could just as easily have been us that died instead. I hate those damned things. Too many eyes, you know?”

“Not to mention the legs, and the venom-spitting nonsense,” I added.

Ralof chuckles. “You see? You did the world a favor by ridding it of one more spider.”

“Are all your spiders that big here?” I shuddered at the size of the corpses.

“You’re meaning to tell me that they are not that big, wherever it is you come from?” Ralof sounds incredulous. “Lass, remind me to visit your country someday if what you are saying is true.”

I didn’t say anything, having a hard time picturing Ralof getting away with his outlandish armor and weapons where on Earth. “Let’s get out of this creepy cave,” I said with a shudder.

We moved through the web-infested cave chamber and into the next big chamber beyond. We saw the sleeping bear, and Ralof pulled me back. “Hold up. There’s a bear just ahead. See her? I’d rather not tangle with her right now. Let’s try to sneak by. Just take it nice and slow, and watch where you step.” His breath on my neck causes me to shiver.

I held up my hands before he could offer me a bow and arrows. “I will follow your lead, Ralof,” I say. “I have never fired an arrow a day in my life.”

“Fair point, lass. Try to keep up and do what I do.”

Ralof began to walk stealthily past the bear, and I followed suit, not wanting to have to resort to magic to kill ever again. We finally made it to the exit of the cave after sneaking past the sleeping bear. I held Ralof back as Alduin flew past us, almost as if in afterthought. He looked at me and then followed the dragon with his eyes as it flew past us.

“Lass, you are going to have to explain to me a lot of things when we get to safety,” Ralof looked at me with narrowed eyes. “You seemed a little bit too knowledgeable about the dangers ahead back there from time to time, and you knew about the dead end in advance, and yet the sight of death and dying makes you sick. There is no way to know if anyone else made it out alive, and yet you assure me that Ulfric Stormcloak is alive.”

I looked away, and Ralof grabbed my chin with his hand and forced me to look at him. My heart raced at the unexpected contact. “We’d better clear out of here. My sister Gerdur runs the mill in Riverwood, just up the road. Normally, I’d say that we should split up, lass, but I can’t let you out of my sight for one minute. You pose a mystery too deep for me to pass up, and I couldn’t let you go out there on your own in all good conscience, considering that you seem completely helpless out here.”

“I swear, I have never seen eyes such a shade of green before,” he said, looking into my eyes. “They are like the finest gems I’ve ever seen.”

I had nothing to say to that. I am just trying not to panic too much at how close Ralof is to me. As if sensing my discomfort, Ralof releases my chin. “Come along lass, let’s be on our way.”

Chapter Text

The walk to Riverwood was longer than I remembered it being in the game. Then again, I had the luxury of pushing my player character around via a controller while sipping Mountain Dew. I was now thirsty, footsore, and exhausted from everything that had happened previously. I also felt my stomach rumble from hunger. This just got real in a horrible way.

“See that ruin up there? Bleak Falls Barrow. I never understood how my sister could stand living in the same shadow of that place. I guess you get used to it.”

“Aren’t you also from Riverwood?” I ask, glad to have something and someone to take my mind off of how miserable I was feeling just then.

“I am,” Ralof said. “But I never said that Bleak Falls Barrow was a place that I would go for a friendly visit, either. You’ll notice that I went traveling the moment I was old enough to seek me own fortune.”

“And then you joined the Stormcloaks?” I asked.

“Aye, lass, even as Hadvar chose to join the damn Imperials,” Ralof’s voice turned bitter. “We used to be friends until then. Now, I can’t even look at the man without wanting to punch him in his face.”

This was all new to me. I had never really made the time to connect the dots between Hadvar and Ralof, even though both men came from Riverwood. “I never realized that you both grew up together,” I admitted out loud.

“We were like brothers at one point, lass,” Ralof sounded gruff.

We came across the standing stones that are the Guardian Stones.“These are the Guardian Stones, three of the thirteen ancient standing stones that dot Skyrim’s landscape. Go ahead, see for yourself.”

I look at all three stones, wondering how to activate them, and wondering if I should. “Go ahead and pick the mage’s stone, lass,” Ralof speaks up as I dawdle. “It’s the middle stone.”

“Why would you recommend the Mage’s stone?” I asked, suddenly suspicious.

“Just do it, and don’t argue,” Ralof scolded.

I walked up to the middle stone and felt my magic call out to the magic of the stone. I reached out a hand to touch the stone and felt the power of the stone radiate throughout my body. A voice asked me if this is the blessing that I desired. Yes. No sooner than the thought crossed my mind than a strange eldritch knowledge of magic flooded my brain. I now understand how the magic worked better than I did before.

“What the hell was that?” I asked, shaken to my core as a beam of light shot up to the heavens.

“You can now learn magic faster, lass. It also means that you can last longer in a fight than you did before you learned that spell.” Ralof looked at me sympathetically. “Not that I would recommend a wee lass like you travel Skyrim alone.”

“I feel like I can use that spell easier now.”

“Give it a try, lass,” Ralof says, turning me around so that I was facing away from him.

I hold out my hand and call upon the lightning again. Lightning wreathes my outstretched hand and I aim it at a tree. The tree is struck by lightning and catches on fire. I looked at the damage I created and then at my hands.

“No wonder the Nords hate magic,” I say in awe.

“Distrust, lass, not hate. Not all of us see magic as something to hate,” Ralof pats my shoulder. “I wouldn’t stand around congratulating myelf, though. You are going to get awful tired unless you let go of the magic soon.”

Sure enough, I began to feel drained of energy. I let go of the magic reluctantly. The power felt so good. It was almost like letting go of sunlight that warmed from within.

“You don’t want to burn out, lass,” Ralof said.

“I guess I have a lot to learn,” I admit.

“We need to get you to the College of Winterhold, then lass. You have to learn to control your magic if you are to be a mage.”

We continued walking along the road to Riverwood, this time we are accompanied by the river to our left. I breathed in the smells of pine and river, enjoying the scent of the great outdoors. Ralof looked at me from the corner of his eye. It is then that I remembered the wolves that usually hung out near this part of the road to Riverwood.

“Remember, this isn’t Stormcloak territory. If we’re ahead of the news from Helgen, we should be fine as long as we don’t do anything stupid. If we run into any Imperials, just let me do the talking, alright?”

I nodded, keeping an eye out for the wolves. We heard them howling before we saw them, and Ralof managed to take them out with his bow before they get too close. “Come here, lass. You are going to learn a skill that will earn you money in Skyrim,” Ralof ordered.

“What’s that?” I asked, dreading the answer.

“Skin the wolves and sell their hides to the shopkeepers,” he said.

I watched as he skinned a wolf with practiced ease. I gagged a little at how easily he removed the hide from his wolf. He then handed the knife over to me and got real close, his chest pressing against my back, and his legs to either side of mine as his thighs press into mine. He guided my knife hand and, with his aid, I make the incisions necessary to remove the hide.

I felt the warmth of his body pressed against mine and blushed from the proximity as he guided my hands to perform what for him must have seemed a mundane chore. Ralof chuckled as he noticed my neck turning red. “Lass, have you never been this close to a man before?”

I blushed even darker red than before. He helped me to ease the skin from the dead wolf and handed me both skins. “There, now you can sell them. Learn to tan the hides and you can earn twice as much.”

I held onto the wet, sticky wolf hides, not knowing where to put them. No inventory bar meant that I couldn’t just take whatever I wanted or load up on healing potions. I now had to be mindful of what I took as well.

“Oh come, now, don’t tell me you are getting squeamish over some wolf pelts,” Ralof teased. He stood up, helping me to stand with him. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I have no place to put the pelts,” I protested.

“Put them in the bag,” He said. The smart ass. “To my surprise, the pelts fit in the bag of potions.”

The sun was getting close to setting by the time we got to the village of Riverwood. As I recalled, Riverwood had no guards to keep it safe, and no walls. It was flanked to the left by the river and it looked exactly like it does in the game. I found myself yawning as we made our way into town.

“Looks like nobody here knows what happened yet. Come on. Gerdur’s probably working in her lumber mill.”

I follow Ralof across a bridge over the river to a pretty blonde woman who looked more buff than me.
“Gerdur!” Ralof shouted joyfully and picked the woman up in his arms. She was bigger than me and much tougher looking, too, and yet he picked her up like she weighed nothing.

“Brother! Mara’s Mercy, it’s good to see you.”

“Gerdur…”

“But is it safe for you to be here? We heard that Ulfric Stormcloak had been captured…”

“Gerdur, I’m fine. At least I am.”

“Are you hurt? What’s happened? And who’s she? One of your comrades?” Gerdur lets loose a tirade of questions at Ralof rapid fire while looking pointedly at the dry blood on his hands, clothes and arm.

“Gerdur! Enough of the questions. I was teaching the lass how to skin wolves, so most of the blood isn’t my own.”

“Most of the blood?”

“Yes, hush now. She is not a comrade, but a friend. Her name is Emma, and she was taken prisoner at the same time Ulfric and I were taken. She is totally hopeless without me, but she saved my life from a frostbite spider.”

“With those spindly arms? And with what weapon?” Gerdur eyed me skeptically.

“With magic, Gerdur! The wee lass is a dab hand with the lightning spell,” Ralof glossed over the fact that I only just learned how to use magic. “Is there somewhere we can talk? There’s no telling when the news from Helgen will reach the Imperials…”

“Helgen?” Gerdur asked. “Has something happened…?”

Ralof hushed her up by sticking a hand over Gerdur’s mouth. She removed his hand. “You’re right. Follow me. Hod! Come here a minute. I need your help with something.”

“What is it, woman? Sven drunk on the job again?” Hod asked. He was a burly man tall as Gerdur who is balding and had more girth than Ralof.

“Hod, just come here,” Gerdur ordered him around like the ruler of her own kingdom.

“Ralof! What are you doing here? Ah… I’ll be right down.”

Hod walked down from the lumber mill and joined us by the river. There was no one near enough to hear us talk here.

“Uncle Ralof!” an enthusiastic little boy came running up to Ralof looking excited. “Can I see your ax? How many Imperials have you killed? Do you really know Ulfric Stormcloak?” I looked at the kid and realized how sheltered I look by comparison to this young man. He spoke so casually of killing, and yet no one chided him for it as they would have done in my community.

“Hush, Frodnar, This is no time for your games,” Gerdur intervened. “Go and watch the south road. Come find us if you see any Imperial soldiers coming.”

“Aw, mama,” Frodnar whined, “I wanna stay and talk with Uncle Ralof!”

“Look at you, almost a grown man! Won’t be very long before you’ll be joining the fight yourself.” Ralof praised his nephew casually.

“That’s right! Don’t worry, Uncle Ralof, I won’t let those soldiers sneak up on you.” I watched Frodnar walk off and look at Ralof in a new light. Yeah, sure I had witnessed the scene before, but it never truly sunk in just how manipulative Ralof had been with his nephew just now. And yet, he had also taken the boy out of harms way at the same time. Respect earned.

“You would encourage a kid to join the war?” I asked incredulously. Everyone else stares at me as if my brain was damaged or something.

“Excuse the lass-”

“Emma!” I cut in.

“Excuse the lass, she is tired and from a different land where war is not as common,” Ralof shot me a look as if to tell me to keep my mouth shut about where I am from.

“Oh, forgive me. I didn’t know that you weren’t from Skyrim,” Gerdur said. “Perhaps you are Breton?”

“Not quite,” I said. “It’s complicated.”

“Her origin is not the important part of the story,” Ralof said.

“Fine, Ralof. I’ll humor the two of you. Now, what is going on? You two look pretty well done in.” Gerdur looked at me with eyes narrowed before focusing on her brother.

“I can’t remember when I last slept...where to start?” Ralof began to tell his story. “Well, the news you heard about Ulfric is true. The Imperials ambushed us outside of Darkwater Crossing. Like they knew exactly where we’d be...that was two days ago, now. We stopped in Helgen this morning, and I thought it was all over. Had us lined up to the headsman’s block and ready to start chopping.”

“The cowards!” Gerdur hissed.

“They wouldn’t dare to give Ulfric a fair trial. Treason, for fighting for your own people! All of Skyrim would’ve seen the truth then. But then, out of nowhere… a dragon attacked!” Ralof said solemnly. I listened to him tell the story knowing how the conversation was going to end. Gerdur looked at me as Ralof told the story as though ascertaining the truth from my reaction.

“You don’t mean a real, live…”

“I can hardly believe it myself, and I was there. As strange as it sounds, we’d be dead if not for that dragon. In the confusion, we managed to slip away. Are we really the first to reach Riverwood?”

“Nobody else has come along the south road today, as far as I know.”

“Good. Maybe we can lay up for a while. I hat to put your family in danger, Gerdur, but…”

“Nonsense. You and your friend are welcome to stay here as long as you need to. Let me worry about the imperials. Any friend of Ralof’s is a friend of mine. Here’s a key to the house. Stay as long as you like. If there’s anything else you need, just let me know,” Gerdur presses a key in the palm of my hand.

“There’s something you can do for me. For all of us here. The Jarl needs to know if there’s a dragon on the loose. Riverwood is defenseless… we need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun to send whatever soldiers he can. If you’ll do that for me, I’ll be in your debt.”

“Thanks, sister. I knew I could count on you,” Ralof hugged his sister and kissed her on the forehead.

“I ought to get back to work before I’m missed, but… did anyone else escape? Did Ulfric…”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he made it out,” Ralof looked a warning at me to keep my mouth shut. “It would take more than a dragon to stop Ulfric Stormcloak.”

“I’ll let them into the house and, you know, show them where everything is.” Hod spoke up just then. He had been silent throughout the whole exchange. I almost forgot that Hod was even there.

“Hmph,” Gerdur snorted, “Help them drink up out mead, you mean… Good luck, brother. I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t worry about me. I know how to lay low.”

Hod led the way to their house and we followed behind him. “I told you my sister would help us out. Now, you are going to be with me, and there is no way I am letting you out of my sight.”

“Why is that?”

“Because, lass, you stand out too much. There is no way that you would blend in around here.” Ralof said, voice low so that Hod couldn’t overhear. “Until I say otherwise, do not mention to anyone else where you are from.”

“Why not?”

“Because, we haven’t had that talk yet, and I don’t want to cause a panic if my suspicions about your are correct, lass.” Ralof put a protective arm around my waist, causing me to blush. Hod looked back at us more than once as we walked to his house.

“You never told me you were sweet and the new lass,” Hod said, sounding slightly jealous. I feel my face burning up.

“Yes, well, I am just showing the wee lass around Skyrim,” Ralof said, his grip on my waist tightening possessively. “I am going with her to Whiterun to deliver the message to Jarl Balgruuf.”

“And risk getting caught?” I asked, horrified at the notion. “I can’t let you do that, Ralof.”

“Nonsense, Balgruuf won’t risk taking sides on the matter, and he most assuredly won’t have any idea that we are wanted fugitives if we hurry early enough in the morning to get to the Jarl first.” Ralof pulled me in closer, and his hip was now brushing up against mine. I didn’t remember Ralof being this handsy in the game.

Hod and Gerdur’s house was as cramped and small as I remembered it with a child’s bed and a double bed for Hod and Gerdur.

“Where is everyone going to sleep the night?” I asked in concern.

“Easy, lass. You and I will sleep on the floor and the rest of the family can sleep on the beds,” Ralof said.

“Nonsense,” Hod said. “The two of you are sleeping on the bed and Gerdur and I can sleep on the floor. That is the end of that.”

“You heard the man,” Ralof said to me as if the matter was settled. “We sleep on the double bed.”

I looked at Hod and Ralof and saw that both men were set on this sleeping arrangement. “Come drink some mead and eat something!” Hod offered us. Ralof directed me to a seat. I was so exhausted that I didn’t think to protest. Ralof sat next to me, his thigh rubbing against mine possessively.

Hod set two mugs of mead on the table in front of us and some cooked fish, cheese, and bread. I followed Ralof’s lead and ate the fish with the odd forks with two tines that they used in Skyrim.

“Try the mead,” Ralof recommended. “Hod and Gerdur make it themselves with their own honey.”

I drank the mead, not expecting the flavor that hit my tongue. It was like tangy cider, and sweeter than wine. A feeling of warmth from the mead flooded through my chest and belly. “I have never had mead before.” Both men stared at me incredulously.

“What do you normally drink, lass?” Ralof asked curiously.

“Water, mostly. I don’t normally partake in alcoholic beverages,” I admitted. “I occasionally have a sip of wine, but not often.”

“You really are sheltered then,” Ralof joked and Hod laughed with him. The two men were drinking their mead like it was water and I only had a sip of mine.

“Water? Who drinks water?” Hod joked.

“My lady of the flaming locks, apparently,” Ralof joined in.

“Ha, ha.” I tucked into the fish, enjoying how it tasted with the bread and cheese. I drank sparingly of the mead, while Ralof and Hod polish off a good two mugs each. It was late by the time I finished my one drink.

After I finished eating I was offered a slice of apple pie for desert. I ate the pie and listened as Hod and Ralof talked about old times. By the time it was bedtime, Gerdur and Frodnar came in and sat down to eat while Hod prepared a couple of bedrolls for him and his wife for the night.

Ralof led me over to the bed and pulled me onto it before I could register what the bed was made of; skins stretched taught over a wooden frame with furs thrown over the top for blankets. He tucked me under the furs and then crawled into bed next to me. Before I could react, he pulled me close to his chest and molded his body to mine.

“What are you doing?” I hissed.

“Getting you all to myself, lass,” he whispered in my ear before planting a kiss on my neck. “Now get some sleep. You’ll need it.”

I stiffened in his arms, and the kiss on my neck caused me to gasp softly. It felt so good, and so relaxing at the same time. I felt my exhaustion sneak in on me. It felt so good to get off of me feet that I ignored the fact that his body was pressed against mine. I had never slept with a man before, and I was too tired to think about what was going on. That and the mead was slowly taking over. I watched as Hod and Gerdur cuddled up next to each other by the hearth in their bedrolls and felt myself drift off to sleep.
Later that night I awoke to find myself pressed into the hides by Ralof’s body, his body twined around mine in such a way that I couldn’t get up without waking him up. The soft sound of snoring off by the hearth and from Frodnar’s bed made me realize that I was the first one awake. I drifted back to sleep, lulled by the gentle breathing of Ralof.

Ralof was poking my cheek gently with a finger to wake me up some time later. I swatted his hand away only to have him poke at my cheek again. “I’m awake, damn your eyes!” I growled.

Ralof chuckled and waved a sweet roll under my nose. My eyes flew open and I follow him to the table, the tantalizing sight of the sweet roll egging me on. Ralof sat me at the table before handing me the sweet roll and snagging one for himself.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Hod said.

“Where’s Gerdur?” I asked.

“She awakens with the dawn to get the mill and to make sure that Sven gets up on time to go to work.” Hod said.

“So this Sven likes to drink?” I realized that Sven was the bard who had a crush on Camilla and there was a love triangle between Sven, Camilla, and Faendal the wood elf.

“He takes to mead like a fish to water,” Ralof gossips like an old woman. “There is a love triangle between him, Camilla Valerius, and Faendal.”

“Really?” I asked casually, even though this wasn’t really news to me. “Say, you wouldn’t know where I can sell my wolf pelts, would you?”

“Lucan Valerius of Riverwood Trader, or Alvor the blacksmith will trade you money for those pelts,” Hod said.

“Uncle Ralof!” Frodnar ran into the house. “I am going to keep an eye out for Imperials.”

“No need for that, Frodnar. The lady and I are going out to see Jarl Balgruuf and have him send soldiers to Riverwood to keep everyone safe from the dragons,” Ralof ruffled the young boys hair playfully.

“Run along now, Frodnar,” Hod suggested, tossing an apple at the boy who caught it before heading outside.

I bite into the sweet roll and my eyes roll up in my head. It was good and rich, and not at all as sweet as I expected. “This is delicious!”

“I’ll be sure to let Gerdur know,” Hod said playfully. “The two of you be safe on the road. There are wolves running around closer to the roads now than in past years.”

“Before we go out, perhaps the lady would like to freshen up her hair?” I realize that my braid is all messy and blush. I look at my grimy hands and shudder. “Perhaps a bath?”

Both men laugh at me. “Sure, if by bath you mean swim in the river,” Hod says. “But watch out for the mudcrabs.”

“Surely there are places around the river that the mudcrabs don’t go,” I protest.

“Milady shall have her bath, even if it means that I stand guard,” Ralof says grandly. “He grabs a primitive brush and comb and a towel before leading me to the river a way and standing guard. I wash my hands and face in the river, not wanting to remove my clothes and jump in the water.

“That’s not a proper bath,” Ralof says.

“Well I am not taking my clothes off where anyone can see me in my underwear,” I retort.

“Fair enough.” Ralof picked me up and carried me into middle of the river before dropping me into the freezing cold water.

“Ralof!” I screamed after standing up in waist deep water.

“Relax and clean yourself of properly, lass,” Ralof said, laughing at my reaction.

Ralof started removing his wet clothes while I turn my back on him blushing. I start walking towards shore only to have Ralof drag me back into the water playfully and push me under. I let the current carry me away from Ralof before standing up. The man was wearing underwear that was little better than a loincloth. He was vigorously cleaning himself off with handfuls of sand and rinsing off in the water.

“Do you need help?” He asked me as I watched him scrub himself with sand.

“No, I’m good.” I scrubed my body and the robes thoroughly as I remembered that I was wearing robes taken from a dead man’s body.

“Let me wash your hair, lass,” Ralof offered.

“No,” I said, shivering.

“Come now, lass, let me be of assistance,” Ralof pleads his case. “I helped Gerdur with her hair when she was a wee lass.”

I relent only to have Ralof pick me up out of the river and carry me to the bank as though my body, weighted down by water, weighed nothing at all. He sat me by the river and took my hair out of the braid gently. Once out of the braid, my thick red hair came down to my thighs.

Using the comb and the brush, Ralof teased the tangles out of my hair until it created a silky curtain around my shoulders. Ralof whistled appreciatively at the way my hair framed my face and body and I could feel myself blushing. “Lass, you wash up pretty,” He said softly. “Let the sun and wind dry it proper before braiding it back up.”

“Fine, then. When are we heading to Whiterun?” I asked.

“As soon as you are ready.”

We drop the towel off at Hod and Gerdur’s house and grab a lunch for the road. Hod insisted that I keep the brush and comb, and that Gerdur could always get them new from the Trader.

__________________________________________________________________________________

After selling my pelts to Alvor for more gold than I would have received from Lucan Valerius, we set out for Whiterun.

I hadn’t realized when we set out just how long it would actually take us to walk from Riverwood to Whiterun. Six hours of silence we walked, my hair and clothes dried by the time we stopped for lunch.
Lunch consisted of cheese, bread, and dried fish. There were also bottles of ale.

“Just how much farther do we have?” I asked as he handed me some food.

“We should be there late in the afternoon,” Ralof said.

I ate the food he gave me while he watched the banks for wolves and mudcrabs. “So, when are you going to tell me how you know so much and so little?” Ralof asked after I had eaten my share of the lunch.

“I don’t know how to explain how I got here, except that I am not from your world,” I said, expecting to be laughed at.

“You don’t say, lass,” Ralof rolled his eyes.

“And where I come from, your world is part of a … fantasy story that we tell around…,” I didn’t know how to describe video games or TV's to Ralof.

“A story implies a beginning, middle and end,” Ralof looked at me suspiciously. “Tell me the story.”

“But-”

“You know what that dragon was, don’t you?”

“That dragon happens to be Alduin,” I admitted. “I am sure you know about Alduin, right?”

“You mean, as in Alduin the World Eater?” Ralof asked, face pale. “The Jarl has to know about this calamity at once.”

“Without the Dovahkiin, we don’t stand a chance against Alduin,” I reminded him.

“Then we simply find him and convince him to save the world,” Ralof said.

“What if Dovahkiin is a woman?” I asked.

“There’s always that possibility, lass. Why do you ask?”

“Alduin is reviving the other dragons from the dead,” I said.

“So there will be more than one dragon?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Enough storytelling for now, lass,” Ralof said. “Let’s inform the Jarl immediately.”

We walked the rest of the way to Whiterun in relative silence. Ralof walked as close to me as humanly possible, and I didn’t mind. His body felt good pressed against mine. “Lass, might I ask if I play a part in the story?”

“You are part of the civil war story line,” I said. “You are there to help Dovahkiin with the Stormcloak conquests.”

“Does that mean that the Stormcloaks win the civil war?”

“It does.”

“In your story, Ulfric wins?” Ralof looked hopefully at me.

“Yes,” no sooner did the word leave my lips than Ralof picked me up and spun me around joyously. Before I knew what he was about to do, he kissed me full on the mouth, his lips soft and pliant on mine. I was kissing him back before I realize what was going on. The kiss went on for some time before he broke it off.

“You gave me the best news ever,” He said joyously.

“Just because you won the war in the story doesn’t mean that you can just rest on your laurels, Ralof!” I said. “I won’t have you die on me because you weren’t paying attention to the battle.”

Ralof kissed me again, this time softer. “Lass, I won’t die. Not while I have you to inspire me.”

“I inspire you?” I asked, flustered. “But what about Ulfric?”

“He doesn’t kiss as well as you,” Ralof said. “And, no, I haven’t kissed Jarl Ulfric.”

“Then how would you know?” I asked teasingly.

“I guess I could always ask the man for a kiss,” Ralof offered. I shook my head and pulled him in for another kiss. By the time we surfaced for air, Ralof was smirking. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Let’s go before I keep kissing you and we stay out past our bedtime,” I said.

It was late evening by the time we make it to the gates of Whiterun. As we approached the gates, one of the guards shouted, “Halt! City’s closed with dragons about. Official business only.”

“Riverwood calls for the Jarl’s aid.” I said.

“Riverwood’s in danger, too? You better go on in. You’ll find the Jarl at Dragonsreach, atop the hill.” The guard opened the gate.

Ralof walked with me to Dragonsreach, his arm snaked around my waist protectively. I paid attention to the village as we walked inside. There was War Maiden’s to the right of us, and Breezehome, and the shopping district up ahead, as well as the Bannered Mare. The towns folk were walking around the shopping district. I spotted Nazeem up ahead and avoided gazing at him so as to not attract his attention to me.

“Do you get to the Cloud District very often?” I hear him sneer at me. Damn it! He saw me! “Oh, what was I thinking. Of course you don’t.”

I ignored Nazeem, as did Ralof, though I could tell that he wants to punch Nazeem in his face. We made it to Dragonsreach and climbed the stairs to the Jarl’s keep. Once inside the keep, we started walking towards the Jarl.

“I only counsel caution,” Proventus Avenicci was saying, “We cannot afford to act rashly in times like these.”

“What would you have me do, then? Nothing?” Jarl Balgruuf the Greater asked angrily.

“My lord, please. This is no time for rash action. I just think we need more action before we act. I just…”

“Who’s this then?” Jarl Balgruuf interrupted Proventus.

Irileth, the dark elf, approached us, her sword drawn. “What’s the meaning of this interruption? Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors.”

“Gerdur sent me. Riverwood is in danger.” I said.

“As Housecarl, my job is to deal with all that dangers the Jarl or his people. So, you have my attention. Now, explain yourself,” Irileth demanded.

“A dragon has destroyed Helgen.”

“You know about Helgen?” The Jarl will want to speak with you personally. Approach.” Irileth stepped aside and sheathed her sword as she took her usual place on the raised platform.

Ralof and I approached the throne, the Jarl watching us with guarded eyes. His face was gaunt and his eyes are haunted. “What’s this about Riverwood being in danger?”

“A dragon destroyed Helgen. Gerdur is afraid Riverwood is next.” Ralof said.

“So, you were at Helgen? You saw this dragon with your own eyes? And you’re sure Helgen was destroyed by a dragon? This wasn’t some Stormcloak raid gone wrong?” Balgruuf demanded.

“The dragon destroyed Helgen. And last I saw it was heading this way.” I explained.

“By Ysmir, Irileth was right,” Balgruuf says. “What do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?”

“My lord,” Irileth said. “We should send troops to Riverwood at once. It’s in the most immediate danger. If that dragon is lurking in the mountains…”

“The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation!” Proventus scoffed, “He’ll assume we’re preparing to join Ulfric’s side and attack him! We should not—”

“Enough!” the Jarl yelled loudly. “I’ll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people! Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once.”

“Yes, my Jarl,” Irileth says, shooting Proventus a smug smile.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll return to my duties,” Proventus said primly.

“That would be best,” Balgruuf said with a straight face. I watched as Proventus Avenicci walked away stiffly as if he had a board lodged up his ass.

“Well done. You sought me out, on your own initiative. You’ve done Whiterun a service, and I won’t forget it. Here, take this as a small token of my esteem.” The Jarl handed me an enchanted battle ax of frost. I accept the weapon gravely.

“There is another thing you could do for me,” Balgruuf stood up and led us of to the court wizard’s office.“Suitable for someone of your particular, talents, perhaps. Come, let’s go find Farengar, my court wizard. He’s been looking into a matter related to these dragons and… rumors of dragons.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

“Farengar, I think I’ve found someone who can help you with your dragon project. Go ahead and fill her in with all the details.” Jarl Balgruuf said.

“So the Jarl thinks you can be of use to?” Farengar asked snarkily. “Oh, yes, he must be referring to my research into the dragons. Yes, I could use someone to fetch something for me. Well, when I say fetch, I really mean delve into a dangerous ruin in search of an ancient stone tablet that may or may not actually be there.”

I snorted derisively at Farengar, not warming up to his attitude in the slightest. Balgruuf shoots me an empathetic look that reads volumes. Ralof stepped forward.

“All right, where am I going and what am I fetching?” he asked.

“Where are WE going,” I emphasize fiercely.

“Eager, are we? More importantly, straight to the point,” Farengar said. “No need for tedious hows and whys. I like that. Leave those details to your betters, am I right?”

Ralof turned to me. “Lass, I can’t risk your life.”

“And I won’t risk yours,” I retorted.

Farengar cleared his throat to get our attention. “I, ah, learned of a certain stone tablet said to be housed in Bleak Falls Barrow-- a ‘dragonstone’ said to contain the map of a dragon burial sites. Go to Bleak Falls Barrow, find this tablet-- now doubt in the main chamber – and bring it to me. Simplicity itself.”

“Well the tablet isn’t going to fetch itself,” I said to Ralof.

“Fine, lass, we get it together. You leave the fighting to me,” Ralof said.

“And you leave the magic to me,” I countered.

“Off to Bleak Falls Barrow with you,” Farengar snarked. “The Jarl is not a patient man. Neither am I, come to think of it.”

“Aren’t you going to ask him more about Bleak Falls Barrow, lass?” Ralof asked.

“Let’s just say I know the place like the back of my hand,” I said glibly. Farengar shot me a dirty look as if to say “Yeah, right.” and Ralof looked at me curiously.

“The story?”

“Yes,” I said. “The story was told to me so many times that I memorized my way through Bleak Falls Barrow.”

“Some tedious story if you ask me,” Farengar sniffed and then left the room.

“There is no way we are going to Bleak Falls Barrow at night.” Ralof said as soon as we are alone. “I am not risking our necks in the dark.”

“You won’t get an argument from me,” I said “Why don’t we stay over night at the Bannered Mare?”

“Fine, but I am paying for the night. Hod gave me some gold earlier before you woke up. He said it was to help us out,” I looked at Ralof, grateful for Hod’s generosity.

We make our way to the Bannered Mare, and are greeted by Hulda the moment we stepped foot into the place. A big open fire pit filled the middle of the mead hall, and Ralof and I approached the owner, tired from our travels.

Ralof handled the transaction with the Hulda who led us to our room. Once we are alone, I check the balcony to make sure that we are well and truly alone. We were. As I checked the balcony, Ralof locked the door. Before I could react, Ralof had pulled me close to his chest and was pressing his lips against mine greedily.

Chapter Text

The next day dawned bright and clear as we made our way towards Bleak Falls Barrow. There was a bandit outpost along the way, but Ralof managed to clear it out before we made out way to the Barrow. There were three of them, and two of us. Considering how out of practice I was at magic, it was basically three on one.

I did manage to create a sort of distraction with my magic, giving Ralof an advantage, but he would have been more than a match without me there.

Another three bandits later, and we made it to the entrance to the barrow. I indicated to Ralof that there were two bandits in the entrance and he nodded. We sneaked in and I heard the bandits talking to each other.

“The dark elf wants to go ahead, let him. Better than us risking our necks.” the first bandit was saying.

“What if Arvel doesn’t come back? I want my share from that claw,” the second bandit was complaining.

“Just shut it and keep an eye out for trouble.” the first bandit snapped.

I normally just breezed through this part of the game, so hearing the bandits’ banter was a refreshing pace from the usual. I watched as Ralof picked them off with his bow from a distance.

“Arvel didn’t come alone, I warned. He stole the golden claw from Lucan at Riverwood Trader. We need to take it back to Lucan before we go to Farengar.”

“And just why is that, lass?”

“Because I can only carry so much, and I don’t want to clutter my inventory with useless things.”

Ralof laughed and kissed me on the forehead. “That makes sense, lass.”

Ralof picked the lock on the chest and we opened it to find some septims, some potions, and a nice new bow for Ralof. He gave me his old bow and offered to teach me how to use it. We then continued on into the Barrow. We came across the puzzle room with a bandit in it. I put a hand on Ralof’s arm and we watched as the man got cut down by arrows.

“He didn’t get the puzzle correct.” I said.

“Do you know the right combination?” Ralof asked.

“Snake, snake, whale.” I answered. “I thought everyone knew.”

Ralof shook his head and looked at the dead man. “Not everyone, lass.”

We input the correct symbols into the monoliths and the door opened. Up ahead were the stairs leading down, and the skeevers. We, mostly Ralof, fought our way past the vermin and continued on our way. We eventually began to hear a man screaming for help.

“That would be the thief,” I said. Arvel’s screams for help echoed through the barrows.

“Is … is someone coming? Is that you Harknir? Bjorn? Soling?”

“Ready to face a giant frostbit spider?” I asked Ralof.

He shuddered and drew his bow. “I am never ready to face one of those, love.”

We entered the room and Arvel began to panic as the giant spider lowered itself from the ceiling. “No. Not again! Ah, kill it! Kill it! Get me out of here!”

Ralof and I set to work using long distance attacks to stay out of the reach of the frostbite spider’s venom attack. It tool longer than I thought it would to dispatch the hideous creature. I was tired from using up so much magic by the end. I drank a magica potion to top of my energy levels and gagged at the sickly sweet flavor.

“You. Over here! You did it. You killed it. Now cut me down before anything else shows up!” Arvel was suddenly no longer begging, but demanding.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” I said. “You have the golden claw, and I don’t intend to let you go until I get it from you.”

“Yes, the claw,” Arvel sounded desperate. “I know how it works. The claw, the markings, the door in the Wall of Stories. I know how they all fit together! Help me down, and I’ll show you. You won’t believe the power the Nords have hidden there.

“Hand over the claw, first,” Ralof said.

“Does it look like I can move? You have to cut me down, first.” Arvel rolled his eyes.

“You’ll pull a legger if we let you down,” I accused him.

“Let me down and find out,” Arvel challenged.

“I think I will let you down,” I smiled an evil smile. Ralof looked at me, but didn’t say anything as I used my lightning spell to free Arvel.

“It’s coming loose. I can feel it,” Arvel said, sounding relieved.

The moment he was freed, Arvel bolted off and shouting, “You fool, why should I share the treasure with anyone?”

“Just wait for it,” I gloated. From off in the distance comes a wail of terror that is cut short.

“You knew that was going to happen, lass!” Ralof looked shocked.

“I knew that the fool would set off all the traps for us. That and waken the Draugr, love,” I sighed. “This is the part of the barrows that I hate. It’s all traps and draugr from here.”

The draugr proved to be more than just annoying, they were downright deadly. Fortunately for us, the draugr were easily lured into the traps and dispatched that way without needing to exhaust our resources. With my knowledge of the barrows and Ralof’s fighting skills, we made it to the Hall of Stories and the door. I used the key to open the door and we made it to the word wall.

I walked up to the wall, not expecting anything to happen at all when I felt a strange sensation in my head as the word in the wall began to glow. I suddenly understood the word on the wall. I look away from Ralof and shout “Fus Ro Dah!”

Nothing happened, but Ralof looked at me in surprise. “How did you know that shout?”

“It’s part of the story I told you about,” I explained. “Look alive, we have one more draugr to defeat, and it is lying in that crypt over there.” I pointed to the crypt.

As if on cue, the final draugr awoke from it’s crypt and shambled at us. I used lightning to hold it at bay in between Ralof’s attacks to keep the draugr from hurting the man I loved. “Easy, lass!” Ralof shouted. “You nearly took my whiskers off!”

I stepped back and watched the fight progress, my heart in my mouth as I watched Ralof whittle down his opponent. In the end he won and searched the corpse for the Dragonstone. I opened the chest and pulled out a sword of frost and handed it over to Ralof who didn’t seem impressed.

We traveled to Riverwood on the way to Whiterun to turn the golden claw over to Lucan Valerius who seemed impressed that we got it back for him without having to be asked. He gave us the coin for his next shipment as a reward. Once we made it back to the keep, we went to Farengar’s office where he had company.

“You see?” Farengar was pointing out. “The terminology is clearly First Era or even earlier. I’m convinced this is a copy of a much older text. Perhaps dating to just after the Dragon War. If so, I could use this to cross-reference the names with the other texts.”

“Good,” Delphine said. “I’m glad you’re making progress. My employers are anxious to have some tangible answers.”

I looked at Ralof and wait for Farengar to notice us, but he was still talking to Delphine. “Oh, have no fear. The Jarl himself has finally taken an interest, so I’m now able to devote most of my time to this research.”

“Time is running out, Farengar, don’t forget.” Delphine said. “This isn’t some theoretical question. Dragons have come back.”

“Yes, yes. Don’t worry. Although the chance to see a living dragon up close would be tremendously valuable … Now let me show you something else I found … very intriguing … I think your employers may be interested as well … Hmm? Ah, yes, the Jarl’s protege. Back from Bleak Falls Barrow? You didn’t die, it seems.”

“You seem disappointed,” I said casually.

“Well now, the Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow! Seems you are a cut above the usual brutes the Jarl sends my way,” Farengar went on as if I hadn’t spoken.

“Yes, well I’ll let you get on with your towering intellect then.”

“My … associate here will be pleased to see your handiwork,” Farengar tended to talk over everyone around him as if they were inferior. “She discovered its location, by means she has so far declined to share with me. So, your information was correct after all. And we have our friend to thank for recovering it.”

Delphine looked at me, intrigued. “You went into Bleak Falls Barrow and got that? Nice work. Just send me a copy when you’ve deciphered it.”

I wanted to talk to Delphine and learn who her employer was. She never really explained that before in the game. At that moment Irileth walked into the room and I knew what was about to go down. I looked at Ralof and whisper,”There is a dragon nearby named Mirmulnir.”

“You know it’s name?” Delphine asked. “How is that possible?”

“She is a seeress,” Ralof answered for me. “She can see the future.”

“Oh, really, and what does the ‘seeress’ see?” Irileth asked sarcastically.

“I see the return of the Dragonborn, as well as Alduin the World Eater,” I said, head held high. “I see the Dragonborn going into Sovngarde alive and, with the aid of three great warriors from the past, destroying Alduin once and for all. I see the Dragonborn putting an end to the Civil War in the process of destroying Alduin.”

“You’re a mouthy one, aren’t you, ‘seeress’?” Irileth asked disdainfully. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I seriously doubt that Irileth,” I say. “I could be Dovahkiin for all you know, and even if I were to shout right in front of you, you would still doubt what I tell you.”

“I believe in empirical proof, not in these flights of fancy that Nords call their traditions,” Irileth sneered. “Farengar, you need to come at once. A dragon’s been sighted nearby. You should come, too.” That last bit was shot at me almost as if an afterthought.

“A dragon! How exciting! Where was it seen? What was it doing?” Farengar sounded like a little boy who had just received his favorite present.

“I’d take this a little more seriously if I were you. If a dragon decides to attack Whiterun I don’t know if we can stop it. Let’s go.” Irileth sounded annoyed by Farengar’s enthusiasm.

Ralof and I looked at one another and nodded. We had nowhere else to be, and the dragon could pose a threat to the city of Whiterun if left unchecked. We followed Irileth, Farengar, and a guard from the western watchtower. Balgruuf was on the second floor of the keep and waiting for us.

“So, Irileth tells me you came from the western watchtower,” Balgruuf said.

“Yes, my lord,” the man said. He looked worse for wear, almost as though he were about to collapse any minute from shock and exhaustion.

“Tell him what you told me. About the Dragon,” Irileth urged the man.

“Uh … that’s right,” the man said as if in a daze. “We saw it coming from the south. It was fast … faster than anything I’ve ever seen.”

“What did it do? Is it attacking the watchtower?” Balgruuf demanded.

“No, my lord,” the man looked to Irileth for strength. “It was just circling overhead when I left. I never ran so fast in my life … I thought it would come after me for sure.”

“Good work, son,” Balgruuf praised the guard gently. “We’ll take it from here. Head down to the barracks for some food and some rest. You’ve earned it. Irileth, you’d better gather some guardsmen and get down there.”

“I’ve already mustered my men to gather near the main gate,” Irileth said grimly.

“Good, don’t fail me.” Balgruuf noticed me and Ralof. “There’s no time to stand on ceremony, my friend. I need your help again. I want you to go with Irileth and help her fight this dragon. You survived Helgen, so you have more experience with dragons than anyone else here. But I haven’t forgotten the service you did for me in retrieving the Dragonstone for Farengar. As a token of my esteem, I have instructed Anvenicci that you are now permitted to purchase property in the city.”

“Thank you, my Jarl,” I said, finally finding my voice. Ralof looked impressed by the Jarl’s generosity.

“I should come along,” Farengar offered. “I would very much like to see this dragon.”

Balgruuf frowned at Avenicci. “No. I can’t afford to risk both of you. I need you here working on ways to defend the city against dragons.”

“As you command,” Farengar sounded a bit deflated.

“One last thing,” Balgruuf looked pointedly at Irileth. “This isn’t a death or glory mission. I need to know what we are dealing with.”

“Don’t worry, my lord. I’m the very soul of caution,” Irileth turned to leave and I follow her, Ralof at my back placing a worried hand on my shoulder.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked me, cautiously.

“Yes,” I said. “We need to make sure that we confirm the dragon’s death. I wouldn’t want to lose all credibility with you.”

“You don’t need to prove anything to me, love,” Ralof said softly, kissing the back of my neck.
“I promised that Dovahkiin would be there to save the world, Ralof.” I looked at the ground, remembering the word on the dragon wall. “I think I might be Dovahkiin.”

Ralof pulled me back by the waist and Irileth wasted no time walking out of Dragonsreach to the main gate. “Lass, when were you going to tell me?”

“I was going to tell you when I knew how to say the words and not sound like a crazy woman,” I looked him in they eyes. “When I looked at the dragon wall, I saw a word of power shimmer on the stone like a heat haze. I know that if I absorb a dragon soul, I will be able to shout my first word.”

“What does that mean for us?” Ralof asked.

“It means that we will be able to fight together, side by side, as equals.” I said. “I with my magic, and you with your sword. We’ll find a way to end the Civil War and vanquish the world eater together. Then we can start a family of our own.”

“You would have a soldier such as me for your husband?” Ralof’s voice sounded humbled.

“You led me through hard times, treated me fairly, and never once took advantage of me when you could have that first night we spent together, remember?”

Ralof pressed his lips against mine, and I returned the kiss with passion. “Now let’s go get us a dragon soul.”

We went from Dragonsreach directly to the west watchtower. It was a decent walk, and my muscles burned thoroughly by the time we got there. I realized that we had traveled well over one whole day without a rest, and yet with Ralof by my side, I didn’t notice the exhaustion near as much.

“No signs of any dragon right now,” Irileth was saying. “But it sure looks like he’s been here. I know it looks bad, but we’ve got to figure out what happened. And if that dragon is still skulking around somewhere. Spread out and look for survivors. We need to know what we’re dealing with.”

At that moment a frantic guard fled from the garrison. “No!” a guard shouted after him. “Get back! It’s still here somewhere! Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!”

I realized that the dragon was toying with the guards in the watchtower, picking them off one by one as they succumbed to fear. It most likely let the last guard make it to Whiterun so the Jarl would send him more playthings to play with. I realized at that moment what a sadistic creature this Mirmulnir was.

“Guardsman! What happened here? Where’s this dragon? Quickly now!”

“I don’t know!” The guard sounded desperate. “Kynareth save us, here he comes again…”

I looked to the nearest mountain just in time to see Mirmulnir crest the peak and coming at us with evil intent.

“Here it comes! Find cover and make every arrow count!”

“Talos save us! It’s a dragon!”

“Slay it! Slay the dragon!”

“I can’t get a bead on him!”

Ralof and I held hands. “Mirmulnir!” I shouted with all my might. The dragon turned his head to look at me, and his eyes widen in fear.

“Dovahkiin!” he shouted at me in fear and rage. “Mal Nivahriin Mey!”

“What did he say?” Ralof asked me.

I shrugged, “I didn’t learn how to speak dragon.”

Murmulnir landed and stopped in front of me. “You don’t speak the language like a true Dovah,” he sneered. “And for that I will crush you underfoot.”

I shout “Yol Toor Shul!” To my shock and amazement, a gout of fire hits the dragon in the face. Murmulnir rears is head back in alarm at the heat of the fire that scorched his nose. In return, I felt a strong exhaustion take over me.

The guards and Irileth, along with Ralof, took advantage of Murmolnir’s shock to attack him. I land the killing blow with a blast of lightning to the dragon’s face.

“Dovahkiin! No!” the dragon shouted as he died.

“Let’s make sure that overgrown lizard is really dead. Damned good shooting, boys!”

The dragon starts to turn to ashes until only the bones remain, and a flashing light starts to appear around the dragon’s body.

“What’s happening?” someone shouted.

“Everybody, get back!”

I always wondered what it would feel like to absorb the soul of a dragon. Suddenly I found out, and it was like nothing I ever felt before. I felt more powerful than I had ever felt before. Somehow I knew more words of power than I should know, and the knowledge coursed through my veins like blood.

“I can’t believe it! You’re … Dragonborn…”

“I can’t believe I actually shouted in the dragon’s face,” I stammered. “I shouldn’t have been able to do that.”

“What do you mean, you shouldn’t have been able to do that?” Ralof asked.

“I needed to absorb the soul of a dragon in order to make my shout work,” I said. The euphoria of absorbing the dragon soul was starting to wear off, and the exhaustion that I thought I had somehow evaded came rushing back to me.
“You look like you’re about to pass out, lass!” Ralof insisted that I sit down.

“Dragonborn?” one of the guards asked skeptically. “What are you talking about?”

“That’s right!” a man speaks up. “My grandfather used to tell stories about the Dragonborn. Those born with the Dragon Blood in ‘em. Like old Tiber Septim himself.”

I grab Ralof’s arm, too exhausted to care about the bickering among the guards. Ralof took one look at me and insisted on taking me back to Whiterun. I didn’t argue as he ushered me in the direction of the walled city. I just wanted to sleep.

That was the hairiest fight I’ve ever been in,” Irileth said to Ralof and me. “And I’ve been in more than a few. I don’t know about this Dragonborn business, but I’m sure glad you’re with us. You better get back to Whiterun right away. Jarl Balgruuf will want to know what happened here.”

As we were nearing the gates the earth seemed to shake and the heavens to tremble as the word “Dovahkiin” was heard from the Throat of the Mountain. Ralof looks at me, alarmed. “Were you just summoned by the graybeards?”

“Yes,” I said, too exhausted for words. “I guess my shout was felt by them?”

“You are in no condition to answer their summons, neither are you talking to Jarl Balgruuf until you have had some sleep and a decent meal.”

I reeled from shock as I realized that it had been quite some time since I ate and slept last. Ralof picked me up bridal style and carried me into the Bannered Mare. I was too tired to argue.

Hulda took one look at Ralof and led us to the bedroom. He handed her the ten gold once he had tucked me into bed. I fell asleep almost immediately, exhaustion taking over.

I awoke entangled in Ralof yet again, our limbs twined comfortably together. I didn’t want to move. It felt so good cuddling with the man. I could smell the delicious smells of food and felt my stomach growl hungrily. I hadn’t eaten in too long, and I was just wanting to tuck into a nice juicy steak to regain lost calories.

“Either you are hungry, or there’s a dragon on the loose in the building,” Ralof’s voice sounded relaxed. I blushed as my stomach responded by growling louder.

“Let’s sate that appetite, shall we?” a voice spoke from the doorway. Hulda was carrying a platter of food for us stacked high with meat, cheese, and two sweet rolls. Standing next to her was Saddia with two mugs of mead.

“We can settle the tab with the Jarl,” Hulda explained as she sat the tray of food on the balcony table. Saddia sat the drinks with the food. I was too honored by this act of kindness to argue.

Ralof and I sat at the table and tucked into the food. I didn’t think I would be able to eat as much food as I did, but between Ralof and me, we picked the platter clean. The mead went down smoothly with the food, and I sat in companionable silence with Ralof as we ate.

Jarl Balgruuf was waiting for us on his throne when we made it to Dragonsreach. With him were Proventus Avenicci and Hrongar, Balgruuf’s brother.

“Good, you’re finally here. The Jarl’s been waiting for you,” Avenicci said, sounding relieved.

“You heard the summons,” Balgruuf was saying. “What else could it mean? The Graybeards…”

“We were talking about you,” Hrongar said. “My brother needs a word with you.”

“So, what happened at the watchtower? Was the dragon there?” he asked.

“Yes, my Jarl. The dragon put up a fight, but we managed to put it down. And then I absorbed the dragon’s soul.”

“That would make you Dragonborn,” Balgruuf looked at me, assessing my physical form, that of a petite woman without an ounce of fighting skill, “So it’s true, the Graybeards really were summoning you.”

“I was able to use a dragon shout on the dragon during the battle,” I said.

“That was the Thu’um, or shout,” Balgruuf said. “If you really are Dragonborn, the Graybeards can teach you how to use your gift.”

“What does any of this Nord nonsense have to do with our friend here? Capable as she may be, I don’t see any signs of her being this, what, “Dragonborn.”

“Nord nonsense?” Hrongar bristled. “Why you puffed-up ignorant… these are our sacred traditions that go back to the founding of the First Empire.”

“Hrongar,” Balgruuf spoke up. “Don’t be so hard on Avenicci.”

“I meant no disrespect, of course. It’s just that… what do these Graybeards want with the Dragonborn?”

“That’s the Graybeards’ business, not ours,” Balgruuf announced. “Whatever happened when you killed that dragon, it revealed something in you, and the Graybeards heard it. If they think you are Dragonborn, who are we to argue?”

“You’d better get up to High Hrothgar immediately,” he went on. “There’s no refusing the summon of the Graybeards. It’s a tremendous honor. I envy you, you know. To climb the 7,000 Steps again… I made the pilgrimage once, did you know that? High Hrothgar is a very peaceful place. Very … disconnected from the troubles of this world. I wonder if the Graybeards even notice what’s going on down here. The haven’t seemed to care before. No matter. Go to High Hrothgar. Learn what the Graybeards can teach you.”

Ralof and I bowed but the Jarl motioned for us to stop and listen a bit longer as he continued to talk. “You have done a great service to me and the city, Dragonborn. By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun. It’s the greatest honor that’s within my power to grant. I will assign you Lydia as a personal housecarl. I’ll also notify my guards of your new title. Wouldn’t want them to think you’re part of the common rabble, now would we? We are honored to have you as Thane of our city, Dragonborn.”

Chapter Text

Ralof and I made preparations for the trip up the mountain to High Hrothgar, knowing that it would take more than one day of travel. We bought provisions, arrows, and hiking gear to make the climb up the 7,000 stairs more doable, and less treacherous. Because I was going to High Hrothgar with advanced knowledge of what was doing, I thought that maybe I could speed up the process of kicking Alduin to the curb, so to speak.

Ralof took our own sweet time traveling to Ivarstead. Ralof’s reasoning was that the Graybeards had nothing but time on their hands, up there on the Throat of the World. He wasn’t going to allow me to be pushed so hard that I nearly collapsed from hunger and exhaustion ever again. It took us a couple of weeks of slow travel to get to High Hrothgar. In that time, Ralof started to teach me archery and helped me to improve at it so that I was able to help shoot rabbits for supper.

The frost troll proved to be a formidable opponent, so I use my fire breath dragon shout. It proved to be most effective against the troll. We made it to the Graybeard’s keep. The keep was a towering gray stone fortress standing tall against a massive backdrop of grandeur. We dropped off Klimek’s supplies before going into the building, entering a dimly lit interior.

“So...a Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age.” Arngeir greeted us.

“Master Arngeir,” I start.

“Just Arngeir,” he said gently.

“Arngeir,” I said. “I am not from the world of Nirn, and yet I have the blessing of the voice. How can this possibly be?”

“We will see if you truly have the gift. Show us, Dragonborn.”

I looked at Arngeir and shout “Fus!” This time it works and Arngeir is knocked back a few steps.

“Dragonborn. It is you. Welcome to High Hrothgar. I am Master Arngeir. I speak for the Greybeards.
Now tell me, Dragonborn, why have you come here?”

“Arngeir, the world is in peril. Alduin once again troubles the land. I need to speak to Parthurnax. It is that important.”

“You claim to be from another world, and yet you know of our Master.” Arngeir says, sounding concerned. “What do you know of Paarthurnax?”

“I know that he is the wisest dragon in existence, and that he honors the Way of the Voice. I also know that he taught you and your three brothers the Way of the Voice.”

“Only if Paarthurnax says you are ready.” Arngeir said solemnly.

“I would speed up the hour of Alduin’s demise.” I insisted

“Such is not your destiny, young woman,” Arngeir answers kindly.

“What is my destiny?”

“That is for you to discover. We can show you the Way, but not your destination.”

“But I don’t belong to your world!” I protested. “I was able to use a dragon shout that I never learned the words to.”

“You have shown that you are Dragonborn. You have the inborn gift.” Arngeir pointed out. “You were granted this gift for unknown reasons. This might very well be the world you were meant to be in from birth.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Try using the words Fus Ro Dah.” Arngeir suggested.

I closed my eyes and focused on a point that wouldn’t hit any of the Greybeards. “Fus Ro Dah!” To my surprise, the force of the push was intense. A powerful shock wave kicked up clouds of dust.

Arngeir looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “I have never heard of a Dragonborn learning more than one word at a time from one dragon soul. The problem is that you run when you should be learning to crawl. You have learned too much in such a short amount of time, and that is not healthy.”

“Then what would you suggest?”

“I would suggest that you meditate upon the meaning of the words you do know. Until you truly understand dragon language, you are only partially educated, and therefore a danger to yourself and others.”

“Then what would you recommend that I do, Arngeir?”

“Go out into the world and get to know it like you know the back of your hand. Get to love it as if you were born of it. When you truly understand what it means to belong to this world, then we will talk to you about speaking to Paarthurnax.”

“I have a better idea,” I said.

“And what, pray tell, is that Dovahkiin?” Arngeir asked.

“I will seek a way up to visit Paarthurnax without the blessings of the Greybeards,” I said stubbornly.

“You are free to try, Dovahkiin, but unless you know the shout…”

“Oh, but I do,” I say with a grin. “Lok Vah Koor!”

Nothing happened, but I didn’t expect it to. We were indoors, and this was an outdoor shout. Arngeir looked at me with a helpless expression on his face before sighing.

“Right this way, Dovahkiin.”

“I’m coming, too,” Ralof said defiantly.

“No,” Arngeir said. “As a matter of fact, you are staying right here. If Dovahkiin wishes to speak to Paarthurnax, she must do so alone.”

“It’s okay, Ralof,” I said. “I will stick to the path.”

Arngeir leads me to the path leading up to Paarthurnax. It is there that I remember the ice wraiths along the way. I shiver, dreading what was to come, but unable to turn back now.

“Don’t do this,” Ralof begged. “You are risking the life of the woman I love.”

“Paarthurnax might be the answer to all of my questions,” I pled with Ralof to understand.

“Then I am coming with you,” Ralof insisted.

I see the absolute conviction in his eyes and realize that I would have a far easier time convincing Balgruuf to join with Ulfric Stormcloak than I would convincing Ralof to let me go.

“Very well,” I say. “Ralof is coming with me, Arngeir.”

“How set on this path are you, Dovahkiin? You risk not only your life on this errand, but the life of the man you love,” Arngeir sounded grim.

“I would trust Paarthurnax with my life, and the life of the man I love.”

Arngeir and Ralof both look at me with varying degrees of shock. “You would trust a dragon?” Ralof asked.

“I would trust Paarthurnax,” I insisted, chin raised high. “Though the Blades would have me kill him for his crimes against humanity, I say that I am not the judge and executioner of Paarthurnax, and I welcome him as an ally.”

“You honor Paarthurnax with your trust, Dovahkiin,” Arngeir stated. “I am sure that your faith will be rewarded. The path ahead is treacherous, though, and you must time the Clear skies shout perfectly so as to keep the path ahead safe.”

“Then Ralof may go?”

“Ralof may go, but only if you tell him why you wish to speak to Paarthurnax.”

Ralof looks at me. “Why do you want to speak to Paarthurnax?”

“Because I need to find an Elder Scroll, and Paarthurnax might know where one is.”

“You need to go to Winterhold for that, Dovahkiin,” Arngeir said. “Now why do you really want to speak to Paarthurnax?”

“To ask if he knows why I was brought here to Skyrim, and if there is a way to go home.”

“You would leave me?” Ralof asked, voice filled with pain.

“I would ask if my stay here is permanent. I would ask if the same thing that brought me here to Skyrim would take me away from you. I would seek to find a way to prevent that from happening.”

“You would? For me?”

“Ralof, I can’t imagine life without you. Your laugh, your voice, your touch. I need to keep Skyrim safe because of you. If I went home, I would be a video game playing nerd without a life. Here, I have adventures with the man I love, and I am Dovahkiin.”

“Go, then. The both of you,” Arngeir said, “Before I change my mind.”

__________________________________________________________________________________

“Lok Vah Koor!” I shouted for what seemed like the millionth time and cleared the path ahead of us. I was feeling giddy from overuse of the shout. Without Ralof, the battle against the ice wraiths would have ended badly. We finally make it to Paarthurnax’s peak.

A great thunder of wings and a strong wind struck us both hard as Paarthurnax made his appearance. I was aware of how magnificent he was in the video game, but here in the flesh, he was magnificent with his white hide and glorious wingspan. “Drem Yo Lok. Greetings, wunduniik. I am Paarthurnax. Who are you?” Paarthurnax’s voice was a deep rumble in the air. “What brings you to my strunmah...my mountain?”

“Greetings, Paarthurnax, I am Emma Steele, but I am also Dovahkiin,” I say, humbly. I am here because I was brought to this world from mine.”

“And you seek to go home?” Paarthurnax said. “Tell me. Why do you come here, volaan? Why do you intrude on my meditation?”

“I wish to stay with Ralof, and to do that I need to protect Nirn from destruction. I need to learn the Dragonrend Shout. I don’t mean to sound impatient, Paarthurnax. I know that you hunger to have a conversation.”

“Show me what you can do. Greet me not as a mortal, but as dovah! Do not be afraid. Faasnu. Let me feel the power of your Thu'um.

“Yol Toor Shul!” I shouted and a wall of flame hit Paarthurnax.

“Aah...yes! Sossedov los mul. The dragonblood runs strong in you. It is long since I had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind. So. You have made your way here, to me. No easy task for a joor...mortal. Even for one of Dovah Sos. Dragonblood. What would you ask of me?

“Can you help me find the Elder Scroll? It’s the only way to learn Dragonrend.”

“You know of the way?”

“Yes master.”

“Ah. I have expected you. Prodah. You would not come all this way for tinvaak with an old dovah. No. You seek your weapon against Alduin.” Without thinking about it, I touched Paarthurnax who looked at me in surprise.

“Sorry,” I say, removing my hand.

Paarthurnax stares at me for the space of a heartbeat. “Come closer, Dovahkiin.”

I stepped closer to the massive dragon. “You are not what you seem.”

“I am from another world.”

“One that has no dovah. I fear that I will waken in my own world. I was wondering if you knew the answer.”

“Krosis, no, Dovahkiin, I don’t know this.”

“Either way, I owe it to the man I love to save this world from destruction. I don’t believe that my solution will be permanent and may just be delaying the inevitable, but for Ralof, I will take on Alduin and use Dragonrend to end him.”

“What do you know of Elder Scroll?” Paarthurnax asked.

“I know that it banished Alduin into the future by one thousand years, and that I stand before you, the last of the Dovahkiin.”

Paarthurnax looks at me with respect. “Then you know that you must bring it back here.”

“Yes. It needs to return to the place where Alduin was banished all those years ago. Ahkrin, peace to you, Paarthurnax.”

__________________________________________________________________________________

Ralof and I took a speedier approach to Winterhold. Once at the college, it took us some wrangling to convince Faralda to let us pass so that we could talk to the librarian Urag. The orc greeted us tersely. He was a man of few words.

“I'm looking for an Elder Scroll,” I told him, realizing that I sound like a maniac.

Urag bestowed me with a look that pretty much spoke volumes. “And what do you plan to do with it? Do you even know what you're asking about, or are you just someone's errand girl?”

“I am the Dragonborn, and I am here on official business,” I said, pulling some weight with my newfound title.

“What about...wait. Are you?” Urag shot me a look, taking in my slight form and small stature. “Were you the one the Greybeards were calling? I'll bring everything we have on them, but it's not much.”

Out of all the books Urag brings out, I go straight for a book written by Septimus Signus, recognizing it from my least favorite quest in the game of Skyrim. Urag watched me go straight for the Ruminations book.

“This "Ruminations" book is incomprehensible,” I complained.

Urag smirked. “Aye, that's the work of Septimus Signus. He's the world's master on the nature of Elder Scrolls, but...well. He's been gone for a long while. Too long.”

“Where did he go?” I asked, remembering that we would need a boat if memory served.

“Somewhere up north, in the ice fields,” Urag said. “Said he found some old Dwemer artifact, but...well, that was years ago. Haven't heard from him since.

“He's dead?”

“Oh no,” Urag said. “I hope not. But even I haven't seen him in years, and we were close. Became obsessed with the Dwemer. Took off north saying he had found some old artifact. Haven't seen him since. Somewhere in the ice fields, if you want to try and find him.”

Chapter Text

Ralof and I braved the ice fields, trying to find Septimus Signus. Just because I knew the general layout of the ice fields didn’t mean that I enjoyed this part of the journey. If I wanted to be with Ralof, though, I had to make sure that there would be a Nirn for him to dwell in. It took us far longer to find the man than I anticipated, and our winter gear and boat were the only good thing about the ordeal.

“Dig, Dwemer, in the beyond. I'll know your lost unknown and rise to your depths. When the top level was built, no more could be placed. It was and is the maximal apex.” Septimus was muttering to himself like the half crazed hermit he was.

“Excuse me,” I interrupted his mad ramblings. Septimus looked at me, his eyes wildly unfocused.
“I heard you know about Elder Scrolls.”

“Elder Scrolls,”Septimus started his mad rambling as if on cue, “Indeed. The Empire. They absconded with them. Or so they think. The ones they saw. The ones they thought they saw. I know of one. Forgotten. Sequestered. But I cannot go to it, no poor Septimus, for I...I have arisen beyond its grasp.”

“Where is the Scroll?” Ralof asked.

“Here. Well, here as in this plane. Mundus. Tamriel. Nearby, relatively speaking. On the cosmological scale, it's all nearby.”

“Let me handle this,” I offered. I turned to Septimus. “I know what you seek, Septimus. I am willing to get my hands dirty to help you find what you seek. We need to go to Black Reach, right?”

“How did you know?” Septimus asked, curiously.

“The Elder Scroll calls to me. But to get in I need the cube and the sphere.” I urged him on. Septimus looked at me with addled brains working a million miles per hour. Just standing this close to him was torture. The man reeked of stale sweat and blubber.

Septimus started to ramble. “Two things I have for you. Two shapes. One edged, one round. The round one, for tuning. Dwemer music is soft and subtle, and needed to open their cleverest gates. The edged lexicon, for inscribing. To us, a hunk of metal. To the Dwemer, a full library of knowings. But...empty. Find Mzark and its sky-dome. The machinations there will read the scroll and lay the lore upon the cube. Trust Septimus. He knows you can know.”

Ralof and I were sick and tired of travel, sick of the hunt for the Elder Scroll, and just sick of the cold and wet of the ice fields. We spent an entire day in camp, recovering from our encounter with Septimus. Ralof could tell that I was extremely unhappy with the next leg of the journey. I turned to him and told him exactly how I felt about Dwemer ruins in general, and Black Reach particular.

“Falmer are the bane of my existence, as are their hideous chaurus,” I shuddered at the memory of Black Reach.

“We know where the Elder Scroll is, lass,” Ralof soothed. “We aren’t ready for tackling Dwemer ruins right now, anyway.”

“You’re right,” I grunted.

“We can go to Winterhold then and you can rejoin Ulfric Stormcloak,” I leaned into Ralof feeling deflated. “There’s no going into the Black Reach without a proper set of tools, anyway. We need ropes and torches and I need training.”

I also had no intention of going there without a good army at my back, but that was a discussion for future me and Ralof. For now, I was only too happy to get back to civilization.

__________________________________________________________________________________
Windhelm, ugly and squat like a flat gray toad, sat in stark contrast to the snowy expanses. I was thoroughly sick of winter by now. Ralof was the only bright spot in the journey to Windhelm, and I was glad to have him.

The Palace of the Kings was as bleak and ugly as I remembered it from the games. Galmar and Ulfric are arguing as usual about the war, and good old Jorleif was looking grim on the sidelines. Ulfric looked as good as I remembered him. He looked like he belonged on that throne. Galmar stood at the foot of the throne.

“If he's not with us, he's against us.” Galmar said, voice gruff and gravelly.

“He knows that. They all know that.” Ulfric responded.

“How long are you going to wait?” Galmar sounded tired, like this was an argument he had been having for weeks now.

“You think I need to send Balgruuf a stronger message.” Ulfric said bluntly.

Galmar snorted, “If by message you mean shoving a sword through his gullet.”

Ulfric sighed, “Taking his city and leaving him in disgrace would make a more powerful
statement, don't you think?”

The moment Ulfric set eyes on Ralof and me, something happened that never happened before. The man actually smiled at Ralof. He walked up to Ralof and the two men hugged briefly.

“I thought the dragon slaughtered you!” Ulfric shouted. He looked at me oddly and then memory dawned on him. “You were that prisoner.”

“Yes, I was.”

“I couldn’t have made it without her,” Ralof said. “It turns out that she is the Dovahkiin.”

“Wait, this petite little waif is the Dragonborn?” Galmor asked skeptically.

I glared at Galmar and my jaw tightened. “This little waif can breathe fire in your face,” Ralof said with a chuckle. “Don’t make unnecessary enemies, sir.”

“I am here to rid you of your problem,” I said, trying not to sound petulant.

“You are here to drive out the Empire?” Ulfric asked.

“No.” I said. “Your Alduin problem. You are aware the World Eater is magnitudes more dangerous than your civil war, right?”

“You’re certainly opinionated, I’ll give you that,” Ulfric sounded amused.

“Opinion? This is not a matter of opinion, Ulfric Stormcloak,” I shot back. “It’s a matter of fact! I know where the Elder Scroll is and need to retrieve it from the Black Reach pronto.”

“So why are you here and not in Black Reach?” Ulfric sounded annoyed.

“Because, I am Dovahkiin, and I am asking you for assistance as one leader to another,” I said. “I am in charge of the dragon crisis.”

“On whose authority?” Galmar jumped in.

“On my own authority, Galmar. I am the Dovahkiin,” I said. “It’s about Gods damned time I was treated like the Dovahkiin instead of some glorified errand runner! I am asking for aid as Dragon of the North.”

“That is quite the claim, but can you back it up?” Ulfric looked unimpressed.

“She has me as her witness,” Ralof spoke up. “I have seen this wee lass stand up to a dragon and shout flames in its face. I saw her absorb its soul.”

“I don’t doubt that you saw all that, but this “wee lass” doesn’t seem to know her place,” Ulfric grated. “I would be more than glad to assist her with this Black Reach business after she has sworn her allegiance to me.”

“Is that all it takes?” I asked. “Of course, I’ll swear fealty to Ulfric Stormcloak.”

Galmar looked at me and said, “By swearing this oath, you become one of us. A hero of the people. A true daughter of Skyrim. A Stormcloak. Repeat after me. "I do swear my blood and honor to the service of Ulfric Stormcloak..."

"I do swear my blood and honor to the service of Ulfric Stormcloak..."I repeat.

"...Jarl of Windhelm and true High King of Skyrim."

"As Talos is my witness, may this oath bind me to death and beyond..."

"...even to my lord as to my fellow brothers and sisters in arms."

"All hail the Stormcloaks, the true sons and daughters of Skyrim!"

Galmar smirked at me, “Now you're one of us. Which means you get to tag along on a little trip
with me. Oh, and here. You're a Stormcloak now, you ought to look the part.”

I take the Stormcloak uniform, not liking where this was going. Ulfric looked at me like a cat that ate the canary. “We have a deal, you fetch me the jagged crown and I will fetch the Elder Scroll from Black Reach.”

Ralof grabbed hold of me before I could protest. “It’s the best we could hope for, lass,” he said. “Why not just take it with both hands and run with it?”

“You mean to tell me that you are willing to send men into black reach to retrieve that Elder Scroll for me in exchange for a crown?” I ask incredulously. “Deal.”

“There are Falmer in Black reach plus their chaurus, and Dwemer ruin traps and constructs, not to mention all of the…”

“They will be fine,” Ulfric boasted.

The uniform was scratchy and uncomfortable, but I wore it anyway. Galmar seemed to be amused by my discomfort. We all traveled to the Korvanjund, and arrived at the snowy tomb, at around noon.

Ralof held me in his arms and the other men looked on, wondering at Ralof’s relationship with the Dragonborn, “I'm glad I'll have you beside me in there. This place chills my blood, and I don't care who knows it.

“I can see why,” I said. “I wouldn’t choose this as a place to go to for fun.”

“These old ruins... My father always told me to stay away from them. Good advice, I'd say. But never mind all that. We've got a job to do, and nothing's going to stand in our way.”

We walked to where a small cluster of men sat huddled around a small fire for its meager warmth. Galmar walked up to the leader. “Hail, Ilfhild.”

Ilfhild looked at Galmar with respect on his grizzled face, “Hail, Galmar.”

“What's the situation?”

“Cold as the inside of an ice wraith,” Ilfhild reported, “That and some Imperials are camped out around the entrance, staying nice and warm around their fires.”

“Imperials?”Galmar said, “Well, if they're keeping themselves comfortable, let's slip in and send them to their graves that way.”

“What's the Legion doing here?” Galmar turned to Ralof. “Damn Imperial spies... Well, should be fun for us, at least. They don't seem to know we're here yet. Ready to spill some Imperial blood for Skyrim?”

“Sounds like fun to me,” Ralof said. I looked at Ralof and saw the genuine glee in his eyes. It is at this point that I remembered that he was a Nord through and through.

“Listen up. Those Imperials aren't here by coincidence,” Galmar said. “Their spies must have found out we know about the Crown, and they don't want us to have it. But they won't stand in our way. I know some of you are ex-legion and may know men on the other side. But remember this. They are the enemy now and they will not hesitate to kill you. Keep your wits about you and watch your shield brother's back. Ulfric Stormcloak is counting on us to bring him back that crown, and that's exactly what we are going to do. Follow me. Quickly and quietly now. I want their guts on the ground before they even know we're here.”

Ralof was at the head of the fight with Galmar by his side. I watched in awe as the two men moved in coordinated unison, picking off Imperial soldiers with little to no effort. I stayed behind, waiting for the fight to be over. We then went into the old tomb, the smell of stale air hitting me like a blow to the face.

There were Imperial soldiers up ahead. Galmar ordered us to wait with an upheld hand. “Pick a man and put him down. We attack on my signal. Time to show what you're really made of. For Skyrim!”

The last bit was shouted at the top of his lungs as the signal to attack. We rushed the imperial soldiers, and the battle was over before it began, much like with the Imperial soldiers outside.

“Gretta, Engar, stay and guard the entrance,” Galmar ordered. “We don't want any Imperial reinforcements taking us by surprise. The rest of you lot are with me.”

We came to a stairway leading through a narrow passage way. “I don't like the look of this. Perfect spot for an ambush,” Galmar said. “Ten to one they're just waiting for us on the other side.”

“But there isn't any other way through.” A man protested.

“You sure about that?” Galmar asked. “Then please, be my guest and go strolling on in there. We'll stay here and watch your back…” the man shook his head. “Not so sure? Oh, then perhaps we should take a moment to look around a little, eh?” Galmar pointed to me. “You there, Unblooded, see if you can find another way through. We'll charge in to help as soon as we hear fighting. There may be some way to get through on the level above. Hurry!”

I took the usual route, the upper one that nobody seemed inclined to explore, shaking my head in frustration. Ralof followed me silently. Up ahead we heard men speaking.

The first Imperial soldier asked, “You hear anything?”

“No, but I know they're out there. No other way they can come. Now shut up or you'll blow our ambush.” The second Imperial soldier said.

“I don't like it. What are they waiting for?” number one groused.

“Maybe they're so scared of you they ran away.” The second man sounded hopeful.

“Hardly likely.”

“Just shut up and keep out of sight.”

Ralof aims his bow and shoots the first man while I shoot the second man with my arrow. The moment the arrow leaves the bow, I feel sick as it strikes my target in the neck.

“It must be the Stormcloaks! Attack!” An Imperial shouts.

This battle is over in minutes once Galmar and his men join in the fight, the ambush reversed against the Imperial soldiers.

“Careful, boys,” Galmar said. “There's bound to be more up ahead.”

I spotted the straggler and Galmar takes him out neatly with a club to the head. Nearby is a draugr and a fresh corpse.

“What in the nine holds is that?” One of the men asked, pointing at the draugr.

“Draugr. Ain't you ever seen one before?” A second man asked incredulously.

“No. And I'm not sure I'm better off for it now neither.”

Galmar sneered. “Steady. A few dusty bonewalkers aren't going to stop us anymore than the Imperials could. We're not leaving until we get what we came for. Now let's keep moving.”

We came across a door like the one in Bleak Falls Barrow and Ralof and I exchange a glance as we remembered that adventure together. I held Ralof’s hand and we kiss briefly, receiving envious glances from some of the men.

“Ah! The Hall of Stories...we must be getting close now.” Galmar said, breaking me and Ralof up casually, a stern glance of warning at Ralof.

“Oh...I've heard of this. They say these walls show the history of the ancients who built this place.” Someone said.

“Too bad we can't read these carvings. Who knows what secrets we'd uncover?”

“One thing at a time. We're here for the Crown. Any of these carvings show a crown?” Galmar said.

I looked around for the body of an Imperial corpse and realize that there is a claw nearby. As Galmar talks, I was already looking for the claw. “Hmm, looks like this is as far as the Imperials got. Even if one of these pictures tells us where the Crown is, I'm betting we're going to have to find a way through that door. See what you can figure out, Unblooded. I'm going to check out these carvings over here. Let me know if you find something.”

Ralof spotted the claw first and I grabbed it. Galmar saw me pick it up and came over to inspect my discovery, “Hmm...that looks like some kind of claw from a statue. I wonder what it's used for.”

I set the symbols on the door so that they match the symbols on the claw before inserting the claw into the niches in the door. The door slowly sinks into the ground.

“Good job! Alright everyone! Keep your guard up. No telling what we'll find down here.”

We were now in a large dusty chamber. “Come on, boys. Let's spread out and see what we've got,” Galmar ordered. “Unblooded, do what you do best. See if you can find some way to get that gate open.”

Ralof started to follow me and Galmar pulls him back. “Easy there, lover boy. Let your “wee lass” handle the challenge on her own.”

“But-”

“No buts, Ralof,” Galmar interrupted. “The Dovahkiin needs to do this on her own two feet. Give her some confidence.”
I knew exactly where to go, and I decided to free up some treasure first before finding the lever that opened the door. I opened the secret passage and the treasure chest at the end of the passage. Inside the chest I found an ebony bow and felt a rush of excitement. That and a healing spell book. I immediately read the book, feeling a rush of power infuse me, along with the understanding of how the spell works. I took the bow reverently and rushed to open the lever.

“That's done it!” Galmar gloated. “Alright, boys, let's get moving. We've got more...”

At that moment the coffins in the room burst open and draugr come shambling out. “Look out! Draugr!” one of the men shouted.

“Steady now!” Galmar roared at the top of his lungs. “They may be uglier than Imperials but they'll go down just the same.”

By the time I made it down the stairs and rejoined them as the battle came to an end. I approached Ralof and showed him the bow. He looked impressed and insisted that I keep it as the spoils of war. Galmar watched our reunion with an annoyed expression. “Let's hope that's the last of them. Come on, let's see what's down this way,” Galmar led the way.

After a time we finally came to the room with the thrones and the draugr on the thrones. My eyes instantly track to the biggest draugr in the room. So did Ralof.

“The crown must be around here somewhere. Spread out, and keep your eyes open.” Galmar said.

“Hey, I found a crown over here on this corpse. Is this the one we're looking for?” Ralof shouted. I run to Ralof shouting at him to get back just as Galmar also shouted, “Ralof...get away from there, fool!”

I watched, horrified as the draugr became animated after years of inaction. The one nearest Ralof swung at him with a sword. It sliced his armor open like it was paper, and into Ralof’s chest. “Nooo!” I shouted in rage. I pulled him to safety and shouted “Yol Toor Shul!” the draugr burst into flames, but they did little to stop it.

Galmar wasn’t far from us. With an overhand blow of his battle axe, Galmar downed the draugr momentarily. It wasn’t an ordinary draugr. None of these draugr were. Among them was a Deathlord and two Wights. The battle was long and fierce. I had to wait between shouts, but I used “Yol Toor Shul” quite a lot that day. Once the draugr are finally dealt with, a few men lay dead, and there were injuries among the men.

I tried to use the healing spell on Ralof. It worked wonders on his flesh, but his armor was damaged. Galmar handed me the crown, to my surprise, “Get to Windhelm with the crown as quick as you can. Tell Ulfric he owes me a drink. We'll stick around here for a while and see if we can find anything else useful.”

Ralof once again made as if to follow me. Once again, Galmar held him back. “Let the Dragonborn stand on her own two feet, Ralof! That’s an order!”

Ralof sulked and walked off, worry on his face. For the first time, though, I felt that I could really handle myself. I was starting to like this Dovahkiin business. I got my bearings and traveled back to Windhelm alone. I was exhausted and starving by the time I got to the Palace of the Kings. Ulfric took one look at me and had me sit down.

“Here's the Jagged Crown. I believe you owe Galmar a drink?” I handed over the crown to Ulfric.

Ulfric looks both pleased, and annoyed at the same time. “Damn him -- the old bear was right! Did you run into any trouble?”

“We had to fight off some Imperial soldiers when we got there,” I reported.

“Damn it,” Ulfric grated. “What were they doing there? Imperial spies are everywhere. Never forget that... I trust you gave them a thrashing?”

“Yes,” I said. “Ralof was brilliant, so was Galmar.”

“But what about you?” Ulfric insisted.

“I was okay,” I responded. “I did help out, but in the end, Galmar and Ralof were better prepared.”

“We can’t have a weak Dovahkiin,” Ulfric said. “Normally I would have sent you off on an errand, but I see that I am going to have to train you, personally.”

“You? Train me?” I squeaked in alarm.

“Yes,” Ulfric sounded smug. “I sent out a team of men to Black reach, and I doubt that they will be in a rush to get there. We have all this down time for me to get to know the Dragonborn, and to teach her how to wield that ebony bow. Also, this sword.”

Ulfric hands me a sword and scabbard. “In the meantime, rest up Dovahkiin, you’ll need it.”

Chapter Text

Bright and early the blankets were pulled off of me as I slept in the guest bedroom in the Palace of the Kings. Ulfric was dressed in practice armor. I was dressed only in my underwear, having refused to sleep in the scratchy material one second longer than necessary. I jumped out of bed and rushed to get my uniform on, painfully aware of the way Ulfric was eyeing me with interest. I am dressed in record time and ready for training to begin.

“You need to be ready for combat at a moment’s notice at all times,” Ulfric sounded smug. “That means always sleeping with your gear on.”

I nodded, annoyed. He tossed me a sweet roll and we headed out to practice my fighting skills. I munched on the sweet roll, enjoying the rare treat. Ulfric watched as I licked the icing off of my finger with evident delight, his eyes lingering on my lips longer than I felt comfortable with.

“I brought your sword,” Ulfric said, handing me a wooden sword. “From now on, you are to sleep with that sword by your side at all times. You sleep in your uniform, eat in it, bathe in it for all I care. It does not leave your body while the war is waging.”

“Isn’t that a little bit extreme, Jarl Ulfric?” I asked.

“No, it isn’t. I was taken unawares by the Thalmor and tortured by Elenwen because I lowered my damned guard,” Ulfric said, his voice tinged with remembered pain.

I knew enough about his back story to tell that Ulfric had a legitimate reason to hate the Thalmor, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. He had been captured and tortured by the Thalmor, and Elenwen had been his primary torturer. The very same Elenwen in charge of the Thalmor Embassy in Skyrim.

“I’m sorry you went through that, Jarl Ul-”

“Enough with the damned Jarl business!” Ulfric snapped. “I am not a Jarl at the moment. I am the Dovahkiin’s fighting instructor. You will call me Ulfric while training is in session.”

What followed was a grueling eight hours of hard work. Let’s face facts, I am a gamer, not a fighter, and here in Skyrim that put me at a disadvantage. I was going against instinct, which was basically to hide in a corner and let everyone do all the fighting.

I went to my room to find a bath waiting for me, and floating in the hot water were pungent herbs that smelled heavenly. The water was warm, and there was a tingling sensation in my body as I realized that, whatever the herbs were, they were used to ease sore muscles. I hurried up and took my bath only to have the servant come in and assist me with scrubbing my back and washing my hair and braiding it in a tight braid for the night.

I blushed and protested, but the serving woman was having none of it. She insisted that, as Dovahkiin, I was a special guest in the Jarl’s household, and that I was to be given the same treatment as if I was the Jarl, himself. She helped me get dressed in a better quality uniform than my scratchy one, and had the dirty one taken away to be cleaned for the next recruit.

Brought to my room, and the Jarl Ulfric came with the servants to join me for a meal. “Jarl,” I stood up as he entered the room.

“No need to bother with formalities, my dear lady,” Ulfric said. I just thought that you could use some company for dinner.”

“Thank you, Ja-” Ulfric frowned at me.

“I am still your instructor until you have passed my training,” He said with a low growl.

“I mean, thank you, Ulfric,” It felt odd calling the leader of the rebellion by his first name.

The food was delicious. It was steak, medium rare, with grilled leeks and a baked potato with butter and herbs. We ate in companionable silence, and then Ulfric floored me. “How do you like my world, little dragon?”

My heart skipped a beat. Did he just call me Little Dragon? Also, did he just acknowledge that I came from a different world? I looked at him, realizing that he was the only person who seemed to realize that I was going through culture shock, despite having played Skyrim for as long as I had.

“Uhm, you’re the first person to ask me that question,” I said, shaken by the Jarl’s insight. “How did you know that I was from a different world?”

“The way you seemed to be familiar with my world, and yet puzzled by it at the same time spoke of something otherworldly,” Ulfric said dismissively. “I was puzzled by your behavior in the wagon, and at the executioner’s block. You were too calm for someone who had clearly never faced death before. Then you predicted the dragon’s arrival before it happened as if you were sure it was a given fact. Too many things didn’t add up. Am I close?”

I nod, unsure of how to explain it. “In my world, there is a story called Skyrim, and I listen to this story all the time, so I know how it goes.”

“We are not but myths and legends in your own world?” Ulfric sounded interested.

“Yes,” I said, not wanting to let on that he was nothing more than a fantasy about where I was from.

“Tell me about your world,” Ulfric requested gently, eagerly. He sounded like an excited little boy. That is how I found myself telling Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak things I had never told Ralof. Things that Ralof had never even thought to ask were brought up by Ulfric. I mentioned the things that I missed most about my world and mentioned that Ralof had made the burden seem less terrible when he was nearby.

Ulfric’s expression grew darker as I mentioned Ralof, and I stopped talking mid-sentence, afraid that I had somehow offended the Jarl. He realized that I was responding to his mood, and to my surprise, he smiled and the darkness lifted. Had he done that to make me feel less intimidated by him?

“Little dragon,” Ulfric said, “Ralof was there for you when it counted, but at the same time, he made it harder for you to spread your wings and fly. That is what I am here for. To give the Dovahkiin back the heights she was born for.” He reached out his hand and caressed my face briefly before snatching his hand back as if scalded. I felt disappointment flare up that he cut off contact so abruptly.
“I will see you bright and early tomorrow morning,” Ulfric promised.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The next morning I was stiff and sore, but I woke up at the sound of the door opening this time. Ulfric pulled the blanket off of me and tossed me some apples and cheese for breakfast. I groaned as I got out of bed and Ulfric shot me an amused look.

“You need to toughen up, little dragon,” He said and chuckled at my grumpy expression. I fixed my braid quickly as it had started to unravel in the night, munching on the cheese and apples as I did so. We then went out to the training grounds, empty just as they had been the previous morning.”

Once again we practiced hard, starting with hand to hand before moving to the practice sword. I was not very coordinated, and my footwork was sloppy. Ulfric, to his credit, was a patient teacher and kept drilling into me over and over again the importance of a proper fighting stance, starting at the basics.

The days spent in training were difficult, to put it mildly. Ulfric Stormcloak proved to be a formidable instructor and opponent. I would go to bed tired and sore and wake up stiff and covered in bruises only to have the training begin all over again the next day. And the next day. And the next day to the point where my muscles had memorized the basic attack and blocks with the sword.

I practiced sword fighting, archery, horseback riding, and my Shouts until I was raw and sore and wanted nothing more than to hide in the corner while everyone else did all the fighting. Ulfric proved to be an unrelenting teacher, and he wouldn’t put up with my excuses. He was determined to mold me into the ultimate killing machine.

In all that time there was no word from the team sent out to retrieve the Elder Scroll, but I did receive letters from Ralof that made me feel better about our time apart.

It was on my third day of training that several letters arrived from me. One was from Galmar, and the others were all from Ralof. One for each day of training, to be exact. My heart fluttered with excitement as I saw the letters from Ralof.

I read the one letter from Galmar first. It simply read, “Your Ralof has been sulking since you left. I explained to him that your training must take precedence over your romance. There is no mistaking that Mara blesses this union, and I must say that I agree with her on this one. Get stronger, and learn to fly on your own. Galmar.”

The letters from Ralof proved to be the most heartwarming and satisfactory of all. He detailed his days without me, telling me how he longed to kiss me and hold me close. He said that he could scarcely sleep without me in his arms. I ached to be held in his arms as I read those words.

“It has been three whole days, lass, and I miss your inner strength and fire. I miss the way you kiss me awake in the mornings and the way you comfort me at night. Galmar assures me that as soon as the Elder Scroll is found, and you have completed your training, we shall be reunited. Keep up the hard work love. Yours truly, Ralof.”

I was writing to him daily from that point on about my training, and the progress I was making. It turned out that as Dovahkiin, my body healed faster than normal.

The long-distance relationship was a strain on my emotions, though. I got more and more sulky as time passed without Ralof by my side. Ulfric noticed this and seemed unfazed by it, but there was more to this man than I realized.

Training with Ulfric became weird. What I felt from him was complex. He kept looking at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. Then I realized that what I felt for him was equally as complex. On the one hand, he was my instructor and master in the way of battle, but on the other, he was a handsome man who had taken the time to get to know me better.

He was constantly checking up with me to make sure that I was comfortable with my stay in the Palace of the Kings when he wasn’t drilling me on battle maneuvers and correcting my stance for the hundredth time.

“When will I be able to see Ralof again?” I asked one evening as we were wrapping up a training session.

“When you have passed muster with me, and only then,” Ulfric sounded grumpy for some reason.

“When will that be?” I asked.

“Only when you can best me in a battle will I concede,” Ulfric said smugly.

I groaned. For all my improvement in my training, I had yet to so much as scratch Ulfric’s armor, whereas he proceeded to beat the living hell out of me in combat training. “Then I guess we work harder on getting me ready.”

“Count on it, Dovahkiin,”

___________________________________________________________________________________

The weeks turned to months and still no Elder Scroll. I was writing to Ralof less often as a result of my increased training. Ralof, feeling ignored redoubled his letters in an effort to get me to respond. I tried to accommodate him by writing to him every day, but the training was so intense that I was unable to find the time and energy to write to him at the end of each day. At first, a day would pass without a letter from me, and then a week or two.

At first, I felt guilty for not responding to his letters, but then I began to feel that I was being smothered. I complained about Ralof’s obsession with writing to me every damned day, and Ulfric only commiserated me, not saying anything that might be construed as negative about his friend.

Perhaps it was the distance between us. Perhaps it was the unbelievably difficult training regimen Ulfric was putting me through. Maybe it was my resentment at being overly coddled and babied by the man I loved. I began to resent Ralof and turn my full attention to the training. Didn’t Ralof recognize the sacrifice I was making to be with him?
I was trying to be a Dovahkiin who could stand by his side in a fight, not cowering behind him using magic like a coward. I wanted to prove myself to be as fierce a Nord warrior as the other women in Skyrim, and not some “wee lass”. The nickname Little Dragon stuck, and soon everyone was calling me Little Dragon, well everyone in the Palace of Kings, that is.

Then one training session it happened. I managed to tackle Ulfric and pin him to the ground. I was gloating rather foolishly when Ulfric turned the tide of battle and flipped me over so he was pinning me in a rather embarrassing manner. He was straddling my hips and I could feel him pressing me into the ground. I blushed. He leaned in and, just like that, he kissed me. There was a spark between us and a moment of warmth rushed to my head. I found myself responding to his kiss without thinking about it.

And just like that, Ralof was pulling Ulfric off of me and punching him in the face. I watched in horror, unable to respond, my face red from shame and embarrassment.

“Ulfric, you bastard!” Ralof grated. “It’s bad enough that you conspired to keep me away from Emma, but you were manipulating her! What were you thinking?”

“I was manipulating her?” Ulfric shouted back. “You were making Dovahkiin little better than your divines damned puppet! She was becoming too dependent on you for her protection!”

“Is that what you think I was doing?” Ralof looked at me, his eyes filled with sudden concern when he saw the state I was in. I had gained muscle, but lost weight, and was covered in bruises and welts from where Ulfric hit me with his practice sword. “What about you? You were working her to the bone! My training would have been more gentle.”

“And you would have doomed us all!” Ulfric scoffed. “Do you realize how desperately unprepared the Dragonborn was? If she is to kill Alduin, she has to be stronger.”

The two men glared at one another and tensions rose. “You hit her!” Ralof yelled and threw himself at Ulfric. Just like that, Ulfric moved to protect himself out of instinct and drew his real sword rather than the practice sword. I threw myself in between both men as Ulfric brought his sword up to slash at Ralof, hitting me instead. The last thing I remembered was the sound of Ulfric and Ralof shouting in alarm. Then everything went black.

Chapter Text

The next thing I knew, I awoke in a dark room with thick walls surrounding me. At first, I tried to remember everything that happened to me, and then it all came rushing back. The fight between the two men nearest and dearest to my heart.

I was dressed in the same clothes I was wearing when it happened, except there was a great big tear in the fabric from my waist to my breast. The fabric was stiff with my blood, but the flesh underneath was smooth and unblemished. Healing magic had been used on me.

“Just what in the hell were both of you thinking?” I yelled at them both. “Don’t you know that I love you both?”

Both men looked at each other sheepishly, then back at me as I scolded them both. “Ulfric! You know that Ralof loves you, and I damn well know that you love him back!”

“Now hold on a min-” Ralof began.

“No!” I shouted. “You will both hug it out!”

“But I-” Ulfric started.

“Hug it out!” I was not going to let either man get in a word edgewise as I fumed about their stupid fight over me. “I took a sword to the ribs, you two can hug it out!”

Ulfric and Ralof looked at one another and then back to me. There was a stubborn glimmer to both men’s eyes and a set to their jaws that spoke volumes.

“What the absolute hell?” I demanded.

“He was manipulating you into loving him!” Ralof shouted. “He nearly killed you! If not for the healing potions and the magic, you would have died!”

“You were coddling her!”

“Enough!” I looked at both men. “You were friends before I came along, and I swear by all I hold dear, I will not ruin that friendship. I love the both of you, okay? Don’t make me decide, because love isn’t a competition. It’s about give and take. You love each other, and you love me. Isn’t that enough?”

“We, uh, …” Ulfric started, his mind beginning to unravel under the weight of my words.

“It’s like this, lass…” Ralof couldn’t seem to finish the sentence.

Both men looked at one another. Then Ulfric said, “But I nearly killed you!” at the same time Ralof wailed, “I was being rash!”

“You were being hot-blooded men, fighting over your conquest,” I said. “Both of you need to realize that your jealousy nearly cost us all dearly.”

“How can we make this up to you?” Ulfric asked.

“You can both train me to be stronger, gentlemen,” I answered archly. To my surprise, both men sighed in unison.

“Agreed,” they both said at the same time.

“Now, hug it out!” I demanded. Both men looked at one another and hugged, when they were done hugging, they looked at me sheepishly and looked a little embarrassed.

I stood up and held out my arms and both men surged forward into my arms, hugging me as if afraid to let me go. I laughed helplessly as both men held me close for dear life. I was on cloud nine.

Training resumed the following day as if nothing had happened, only this time I had two instructors. Ulfric was in charge of sword and hand-to-hand lessons, and Ralof handled the archery and horse riding lessons. I continued to improve under both men’s tutelage.

Then one day, as I was sparring with Ulfric, Ralof arrived with what remained of the men sent to Black Reach. They were ragged and worn, but they had the Elder Scroll. I felt guilty for sending those men into danger instead of going myself, but Ulfric and Ralof wouldn’t hear of it. Both men sat me down and had a heart-to-heart discussion about why that was unrealistic.

“Dovahkiin, we owe you the honor of risking our lives for you, because you risk your life for the world,” Ulfric said. “Those men went into that mission knowing that they were risking everything, and they did it because they loved Skyrim. They were true sons and daughters, every last one.”

“I don’t doubt what you say, but it’s my fault-”

“No, lass,” Ralof speaks up. “It would have happened one way or the other for those brave lads and lasses. You did your part by retrieving the jagged crown. They were fulfilling the other half of the bargain.”

Despite their words to the contrary, I still felt guilty for the deaths of other people. No wonder Dovahkiin did all their own dirty work in the video game. “We need to go back to the Throat of the World and Paarthurnax.”

The return to Paarthurnax took less of a toll on me the second time. I was less winded and exhausted by the time we reached the top of the Throat of the World. Paarthurnax flew down to greet me, Ralof, and Ulfric, who had insisted that he come along, though Ralof and I argued that he was way too important to risk losing in battle.

“I have the Elder Scroll,” I held the massive scroll in my hands.

Paarthurnax spoke, “You have it. The Kel -- the Elder Scroll. Tiid kreh...qalos. Time shudders at its touch. There is no question. You are doom-driven. Kogaan Akatosh. The very bones of the earth are at your disposal. Go then. Fulfill your destiny. Take the Scroll to the Time-Wound. Do not delay. Alduin will be coming. He cannot miss the signs.”

I found the designated spot and opened the scroll. What happened next felt more like the scroll was reading me, rather than the other way around. I saw Hakon, the warrior; Gormlaith, the beautiful maiden warrior, and Felldir, the mage as if in a heat haze. The two warriors are fighting against a dragon. Felldir stood off to the side watching the battle.

Hakon, One Eye shouted, “Gormlaith! We're running out of time! The battle...”

“Daar sul thur se Alduin vakrii,” the dragon spoke. “Today Alduin's lordship will be restored. But I honor your courage. Krif voth ahkrin. Die now, in vain.”

“For Skyrim!” Hakon roared.

Gormlaith, Golden Hilt lunges at the dragon in a lethal overhand attack with her sword, “Hyah!”
In tandem, the two warriors fought the dragon. The battle was fierce and wild, with neither side giving ground to the other. Gormlaith jumped on the dragon’s head and shouted, “Know that Gormlaith sent you down to your death!” She brings her sword down for the killing blow.

“Hakon! A glorious day, is it not!” Gormlaith’s voice was joyous.

“Have you no thought beyond the blooding of your blade?” Hakon sounded incredulous.

“What else is there?” Gormlaith rolled her eyes.

“The battle below goes ill. If Alduin does not rise to our challenge, I fear all may be lost,” Hakon said tersely.

“You worry too much, brother. Victory will be ours.” Gormlaith lay a reassuring hand on Hakon’s shoulder.

Hakon turned to Felldir, “Why does Alduin hang back? We've staked everything on this plan of yours, old man.

Felldir raised an eyebrow, “He will come. He cannot ignore our defiance. And why should he fear us, even now?”

“We've bloodied him well. Four of his kin have fallen to my blade alone this day,” Gormlaith boasted proudly. She pounded her fist against her armored chest.

“But others have yet stood against Alduin, himself. Galthor, Sorri, Birkir…” Felldir pointed out.

“They did not have Dragonrend,” Gormlaith said bravely, her voice tinged with defiance, “Once we bring him down, I promise I will have his head.”

Felldir sighed as if he were talking to a two-year-old, “You do not understand. Alduin cannot be slain like a lesser dragon. He is beyond our strength. Which is why I brought the Elder Scroll.”

Hakon looked incredulous, “Felldir! We agreed not to use it!”

Felldir snorted derisively, “I never agreed. And if you are right, I will not need it.”

“No,” Hakon argued, “We will deal with Alduin ourselves, here and now.”

“We shall see soon enough,” Gormlaith cut in. “Alduin approaches!”

“So be it,” Hakon said.

The midnight black form of Alduin appeared first as a speck in the sky but grew in immensity as he drew near. Soon they could see the passion and the fury within Alduin’s eyes. “Meyye! Tahrodiis aanne! Him hinde pah liiv! Zu'u hin daan!”

“Let those that watch from Sovngarde envy us this day!” Gormlaith cried defiantly, and then together the three fierce men and woman shouted, “Joor...Zah...Frul!”
There was a shimmer on Alduin’s body, and he shouted in rage, “Nivahriin joorre! What have you done? What twisted Words have you created?! Tahrodiis Paarthurnax! My teeth to his neck! But first...dir ko maar. You will die in terror, knowing your final fate... To feed my power when I come for you in Sovngarde!”

Gormlaith spat in scorn, “If I die today, it will not be in terror. You feel fear for the first time, worm. I see it in your eyes.”

“Fo...Krah Diin!” Felldir shouted.

“Skyrim will be free!” Hakon added his voice to the mix.

The three Nords attacked in unison, and they appeared to be holding their own against Alduin. I watched in horror as Alduin suddenly snatched Gormlaith in his mouth, crunching through the armor and into her body. He shook his head, snapping her neck. Alduin tossed her lifeless body to the side. Felldir opened the Elder Scroll.

“Hold, Alduin on the Wing! Sister Hawk, grant us your sacred breath to make this contract heard! Begone, World-Eater! By words with older bones than your own, we break your perch on this age and send you out! You are banished! Alduin, we shout you out from all our endings unto the last!”

“Faal Kel...?! Niikriinne...”Alduin said as the effects of the Elder Scroll took effect and a blinding light engulfed him. When the light was gone, so was Alduin, effectively ending the Dragon Wars.

“You are banished!” Felldir shouted.

Hakon sounded exhausted beyond belief, “It worked...you did it...”

“Yes,” Felldir said, “the World-Eater is gone...may the spirits have mercy on our souls.”

I found myself back in the presence and put away the scroll as the familiar form of Alduin approached the Throat of the World. “Bahloki nahkip sillesejoor. My belly is full of the souls of your fellow mortals, Dovahkiin. Die now and await your fate in Sovngarde!”

“Lost funt,” Paarthurnax said, “You are too late, Alduin!”

Alduin sounded smug as he said, “Suleyki mulaag, Paarthurnax. My power has waxed, while yours has waned.”

“Dovahkiin! Use Dragonrend, if you know it!” Paarthurnax shouted.

“Joor...Zah...Frul!” the Shout snared Alduin, forcing him down to the ground.

“Unslaad hakoron! Never again!” Paarthurnax roared.

“You will pay for your defiance!” Alduin said in return, his tail lashing forcefully.

“This is your chance, Dovahkiin! Strike with all your force!” Paarthurnax urged.
I drew my sword and readied myself to attack Alduin, but he took off into the air and out of reach of my weapons. I cursed under my breath for not attacking him sooner, but I had been too entranced by the conversation of the two elder Dovah.

“You may have picked up the weapons of my ancient foe, but you are not their equal!” Alduin sneered in the way only dragons can.

“Dovahkiin,” Paarthurnax urged, “vosaraan! Use Dragonrend before Alduin consumes you!”

The ensuing battle is just as long, fierce, and grueling as I remembered it from the game. Hitting Alduin with Dragonrend was easier said than done, and he gave as good as he got in the fight. He shouted flaming rocks from the skies. Ulfric, Ralof, and I had to not only time our long-range attacks right, but we had to dodge the falling missiles. Finally, I hit Alduin with Dragonrend, forcing him to land, and all of us attacked in a frenzy of violence that consumed us.

Meyz mul, Dovahkiin,” Alduin said grudgingly. “You have become strong. But I am Al-du-in, firstborn of Akatosh! Mulaagi zok lot! I cannot be slain here, by you or anyone else! You cannot prevail against me. I will outlast you…mortal!”

Before I could do anything, Alduin flew off for the horizon.

“Lot krongrah,” Paarthurnax said, “You truly have the Voice of a dovah. Alduin's allies will think twice after this victory.”

“Paarthurnax,” I said, bowing formally. “Thank you for your help. I know where Alduin has gone and what must be done to find him.”

“Please, lass, don’t keep us in the dark,” Ralof says.

“You won’t like it, but if I don’t do what needs to be done, Alduin will be back, stronger than before,” I warned.

“What won’t we like, Little Dragon?” Ulfric asked worriedly.

“He is in Sovngarde,” I said. “He is consuming the souls of the dead to rebuild his lost strength and make himself much stronger than he was before. We would have no hope of defeating him then. I must go to Skuldafn and enter Sovngarde from there.”

I turned to look at Paarthurnax. “Could you fly me there?”

“Dovahkiin,” Paarthurnax says, “are you sure you want this?”

“You are the only Dov I respect, Paarthurnax,” I said. “Odahviing is not the one for me. Please, take me to Skuldafn.”

“You mean us,” Ralof said. Both men eyed me suspiciously.

“I meant me,” I said looking at both men. “You trained me to stand on my own feet as Dovahkiin, and I must see this through to the bitter end. Sovngarde awaits, my loves. I shall return to you.”
Both men looked at one another, their eyes filled with varying degrees of doubt and worry. They turned to Paarthurnax who looked at them in return.

“Kos ahst drem, be at peace,” Paarthurnax said. “Dovahkiin will be safe in my care. I will fly her to the gates of Sovngarde myself.”

“Please, don’t worry for me, I will make it to Sovngarde safely and defeat Alduin. I won’t do it alone, there will be others with me.”

Ralof and Ulfric looked at one another and nodded before walking off together to talk among themselves. I turned to Paarthurnax to give the men their privacy. He was eyeing me with something like respect. “Drem, you have come into your own, Dovahkiin, for one not of Vus.”

“I come from a world where dragons don’t exist, Paarthurnax,” I said sadly. “Magic is non-existent, and there isn’t a Dovahkiin to save the world from the horrors inflicted by humanity against humanity.”

“There is sorrow in your voice, why is that?”

“Because I would have loved to have you in my world as you are now, Paarthurnax. I believe you when you say that you are a changed dragon,” I touched Paarthurnax gently on the face. Paarthurnax didn’t draw back but held perfectly still. There was an odd expression on his face.

“That is twice, now, Dovahkiin, that you touched me,” Paarthurnax sounded perplexed.

“Was it wrong?”

“Unprecedented, Dovahkiin. Unheard of.” Paarthurnax allowed me to touch his face a moment longer, and so I rested my forehead against his chin in a sign of trust.

“Why do you trust me?” Paarthurnax asked after I withdrew from him.

“Because you are near and dear to my heart, Paarthurnax,” I said, “And because the Greybeards trust you.”

Ralof and Ulfric returned looking like they had reached an agreement. “There is only one way that the two of us will agree to do this, Little Dragon,” Ulfric said. “We will all have to be married together.”

“Isn’t that sort of thing frowned upon in Skyrim?” I asked.

“I can perform the ceremony,” Paarthurnax offered.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” I asked both men. “You know this means that we will all be married to one another. There will be no going back.”

“Just as you are going into the unknown, lass,” Ralof said, “So are we. You do realize that I am aware of the fact that I will not just be gaining a wife, but a husband as well. Such does not rest easy upon my shoulders, but I am willing to do this for your sake, and his.” Ralof smiles lovingly at Ulfric who caresses his face tenderly. Clearly, he didn’t share the same misgivings as Ralof.

“Furthermore, you are not to leave this world until you have had your honeymoon night, lass,” Ralof added.

And just like that, we stood before Paarthurnax as he blessed a union over the three of us in his own language. Though none of us understood the language spoken to us that day, we never forget the sense of peace that came over us as we held on to one another. Ralof and Ulfric both handed me a ring to symbolize our love. I put them on as I would armor, knowing that they represented both the men I loved and our unity, even in Sovngarde.

If you had told me that I would end up in a polyamorous relationship with two men back when I was still living in my own world, I would have no doubt thought you were insane. As it was, my relationship with my two husbands was something new to me, and to them as well. At the same time they were married to me, they were also married to each other. Such things aren’t typically done, and I was afraid of what this would mean for us.

We pitched a tent on the Throat of the World and set up our bedrolls together into one makeshift bed. That night we celebrated our love with one another.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Paarthurnax presented me with a set of glass armor that fit like a glove, along with boots, greaves, a helmet, and sword, and glass arrows. My ebony bow was already good enough for where I was going.
I thanked Paarthurnax who informed me that it was a wedding gift from one Dov to another.

I changed into the new armor and weapons, leaving everything else but my healing potions and rings behind. I mounted Paarthurnax who informed me that my experience flying might just change the way I see dragons altogether.

He flew me to the entrance to Skuldafn and set me down. “This is as far as I can take you. Krif voth ahkrin. I will look for your return, or Alduin's.”

I battled my way through Skuldafn, hard-pressed to stay one step ahead of the draugr at every turn. I made more use of my bow than I did of my sword on the way to my battle with Nahkriin. The puzzles were easy to solve, and I made it through the maze-like setting of Skuldafn hardly the worst for wear.

The battle with Nahkriin proved to be nightmarishly hard. I pumped him full of arrows, used every dragon Shout I knew, and kept my distance from him until, after a half-hour standstill, I finally ended Nahkriin once and for all. I collected the mask and the staff so that I could enter Sovngarde. I placed the staff where it belonged and then I entered the portal into Sovngarde.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Heavy mist shrouded the land as I looked out into the valley that I knew to be the Nord afterlife. I shouted the Clear Skies shout and started walking along the path. Up ahead I saw a Stormcloak soldier.
“Turn back, traveler! Terror awaits within this mist. Many have braved the shadowed vale but vain is all courage against the peril that guards the way.

“Who are you?” I asked.

The soldier spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, “Near Giants' Gap, in the gloom before dawn, we marched, unsuspecting into the Imperials' trap. Then we stood and fought, our shield wall defending until by dawn's light the Legion's ranks wavered. But I never knew if nights-end brought victory -- a swift-flying arrow to Sovngarde carried me.”

“Follow me,” I offered him. “I'll lead you through this mist.”

“I'll try to hold to your hopeful purpose,” the soldier sounded hopeful. “Quickly, before this encompassing fog once more snares me in the World-Eater's net.”

“Don't worry, I'm here to kill Alduin,” I assured him.

“Beware! The World-Eater waits within the mist!”

I made frequent use of the Clear Skies shout as I traveled the path to the Shor’s Hall, and along the way, I met the souls of the dead. Among the dead was the spirit of High King Torygg, who had been cut down by Ulfric Stormcloak in the prime of life.

“When Ulfric Stormcloak, with savage Shout, sent me here, my sole regret was fair Elisif, left forlorn and weeping. I faced him fearlessly -- my fate inescapable -- yet, my honor is unstained – can Ulfric say the same?

For what seemed like hours I followed the path to Shor’s Hall until I finally came across the Whalebone Bridge. Standing in front of the bridge was a man in shining armor.

Tsun stood in my path, blocking my way forward, “What brings you here, wayfarer grim, to wonder here, in Sovngarde, souls-end, Shor's gift to the honored dead?”

“Who are you?”

I am Tsun,” the man said, “shield-thane to Shor. The Whalebone Bridge he bade me guard and winnow all the souls whose heroic end sent them here, to Shor's lofty hall where welcomed, well-earned, awaits those I judge fit to join that fellowship of honor.”

“I pursue Alduin, the World-Eater,” I explained.

“A fateful errand. No few have chafed to face the Worm since first he set his soul-snare here at Sovngarde's threshold. But Shor's restrained our wrathful onslaught -- perhaps, deep-counseled, your doom he foresaw.”

“I seek entrance to the Hall of Valor,” I said.

“No shade are you, as usually here passes, but living, you dare the land of the dead. By what right do you request entry?”

“By the right of birth. I am Dragonborn.”

“Ah! It's been too long since last I faced a doom-driven hero of the dragon blood.”

“Can I enter the Hall of Valor?”

“Living or dead, by decree of Shor, none may pass this perilous bridge 'til I judge them worthy by the warrior's test.”

My fighting skills are put to the test as I fight against Tsun, making use of everything that Ralof and Ulfric taught me. Just as I am starting to get weary, Tsun puts his weapon down and I cease fighting him.

“You fought well. I find you worthy. It is long since one of the living has entered here. May Shor's favor follow you and your errand.”

I cross the massive Whalebone Bridge and approach Shor’s Hall, intimidated by the massive structure. The interior is filled with the spirits of the valorous and brave. The first person to greet me was none other than Ysgramor, himself.

“Welcome, Dragonborn! Our door has stood empty since Alduin first set his soul-snare here. By Shor's command, we sheathed our blades and ventured not the vale's dark mist. But three await your word to loose their fury upon the perilous foe. Gormlaith the fearless, glad-hearted in battle; Hakon the valiant, heavy-handed warrior; Felldir the Old, far-seeing and grim.”

I look and see the three Nords from my vision at the Throat of the World and approach them.

Gormlaith greeted me first, “At long last! Alduin's doom is now ours to seal -- just speak the word and with high hearts, we'll hasten forth to smite the worm wherever he lurks.”

“Hold, comrades -- let us counsel take before the battle is blindly joined,” Felldir cautioned. “Alduin's mist is more than a snare -- its shadowy gloom is his shield and cloak. But with four Voices joined, our valor combined, we can blast the mist and bring him to battle.”

“Felldir speaks wisdom -- the World-Eater, coward, fears you, Dragonborn. We must drive away his mist, Shouting together, and then unsheathe our blades in a desperate battle with our black-winged foe.”

“To battle, my friends! The fields will echo with the clamor of war,” Gormlaith urged, “our wills undaunted.”

We draw our weapons and charge across the bone bridge. Tsun awaits us up ahead. “The eyes of Shor are upon you this day. Defeat Alduin, and destroy his soul-snare.”

“We cannot fight the foe in this mist!” Felldir reminded us.

“Clear Skies -- combine our Shouts!” Gormlaith said.

Together we all shout, “Lok...Vah...Koor!” And the mists clear up making visibility better. No sooner had we cleared the skies of a mist than Alduin shouted, “Ven Mul Riik!” and the mists returned to plague us.

“Again!” Gormlaith ordered. Same as before we all shouted, “Lok...Vah...Koor!” and were met with an answer, “Ven Mul Riik!” and the fog persisted.

Hakon looked desperate, “Does his strength have no end? Is our struggle in vain?”

“Stand fast! His strength is failing!” Gormlaith encouraged us. “Once more, and his might will be broken!

“One more time and the World-Eater must face us!” Felldir shouted.

Once more, we shout, “Lok...Vah...Koor!” This time the mist dissipates completely and we see Alduin coming at us. I look at the Alduin and feel dread form in my stomach.

“Stand together and we shall defeat him!” Felldir sounded optimistic.

Gormlaith was grinning a fierce grin, “No escape this time, foul worm!”

“Stand fast!” Hakon shouted, “The fell worm's death is ours, at last, the light returns!”

And then, just like that, Alduin was flying over us.

“Nust wo ni qilaan fen kos duuan.”

“For Skyrim!” Gormlaith gave her battle cry, “For Shor! For Sovngarde's freedom!”

“Nowhere to hide! Hunter becomes our prey!” Hakon crowed.

“You are persistent, Dovahkiin,” Alduin was looking at me. “Pruzeh ol aar. A fine slave you would have made.

I used to hit Alduin with Dragonrend and he was forced to land. What follows is a long, and drawn-out battle with Alduin. We would force him to land and maybe get a couple of good hits on him, then he would fly off making us use Dragonrend to force him to land so we could attack him up close. I was low on arrows, so I had to conserve their use, and only shoot him when I was sure the arrow would hit the mark.

Alduin was throwing everything at us, including his signature attack. Hurling flaming rocks at us from above. Just as I thought there was no end to this battle, “Zu'u unslaad! zu'u nis oblaan!” Alduin shouted. His body exploded satisfactorily, with his flesh dissolving from his bones before the bones, themselves, were gone.

“This was a mighty deed!” Tsun clapped me on the shoulder, “The doom of Alduin encompassed at last and cleansed Sovngarde of his evil snare. They will sing of this battle in Shor's hall forever. But your fate lies elsewhere. When you have completed your count of days, I may welcome you again, with glad friendship, and bid you join the blessed feasting.”

“All hail the Dragonborn! Hail her with great praise!” Gormlaith hugged me.

“I'll look for you, friend,” Hakon said warmly, taking my hand in his, “when at last you return to Shor's hall. The honor will be ours when you rejoin the ranks of Sovngarde.”

“Our ancient debt for Alduin's reprieve is now repaid -- the long night is ended!” Felldir sounded as jubilant as I felt.

“Even here, where heroes throng, few can match this mighty deed,” Gormlaith said. “What glory! The gods themselves must envy us this well-earned honor!

“When you are ready to rejoin the living, just bid me so, and I will send you back.”

“I have nothing holding me here to Sovngarde,” I said. “Send me back, please.”

“Return now to Nirn, with this rich boon from Shor, my lord: a Shout to bring a hero from Sovngarde in your hour of need. Nahl...Daal...Vus!

To my surprise, I find myself back at the Throat of the World where the tent is still pitched and Ralof and Ulfric are staring up in amazement and not a little fear. I Follow their eyes and see all of the dragons circling the summit as if giving last rites, which is pretty close to what they were doing if I recall correctly. Among them was Paarthurnax, the only white dragon in a sea of reds browns, and shades of gray.

One dragon shouted, “Alduin mahlaan!” to be followed up by another dragon shouting, “Sahrot thur qahnaraan!”

“Alduin mahlaan!”

“Dovahkiin los ak dovahkriid!”

“Alduin mahlaan!”

“Thu'umii los nahlot!”

“Alduin mahlaan!”

“Mu los vamir!”

“So, it is done.”Paarthurnax mourned, “Alduin dilon. The Eldest is no more, he who came before all others, and has always been.”

“It must be hard for you, seeing your brother fall like that,” I reached out to touch Paarthurnax, who let me. “I know that he brought it down on himself, but I also understand that you won’t be happy about his death, too. I wish it could have been different.”

“It is true, I cannot celebrate his fall,” Paarthurnax said sadly. “Zu'u tiiraaz ahst ok mah. He was my brother once. This world will never be the same.”

“I can’t truly understand the depths of your grief, Paarthurnax, but you know that I had to do what I did.” I kissed Paarthurnax on the snout. For his part, Paarthurnax’s eyes widened briefly. Paarthurnax said nothing.

“But I forget myself,” Paarthurnax said, “Krosis. So los mid ahdon. Melancholy is an easy trap for a dovah to fall into. You have won a mighty victory. Sahrot krongrah -- one that will echo through all the ages of this world for those who have eyes to see. Savor your triumph, Dovahkiin. This is not the last of what you will write upon the currents of Time. Goraan! I feel younger than I have in many an age.

Normally he would fly off to be with his brethren, but this once, he nuzzled me gently. “Nirn is not your world, Dovahkiin, and yet you bravely stood up and saved it,” he said before taking off. “Many of the dovahhe are now scattered across Keizaal. Without Alduin's lordship, they may yet bow to the vahzen...rightness of my Thu'um. But willing or not, they will hear it! Fare thee well, Dovahkiin!”

The moment Paarthurnax and the dragons have flown off into the distance, I am rushed by my two husbands who are both hugging me exuberantly. “We knew you could do it,” Ralof said. “You must be exhausted,” Ulfric added.

My heart swelled with pride at the sight of my two loves holding me so tight. “You’re crushing me!” I complained, to which Ulfric stood back while Ralof picked me up and brought me back to the tent. There was a small feast laid out for me, and the bedrolls were looking fine. I ate a cold meal of meats, cheeses, and bread before being tucked in for sleep. The last thing I remembered was Ralof and Ulfric lying down next to me to keep me warm.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“I can see it in your eyes -- you've seen the land of the gods and returned,” Arngeir said. “Does this mean...it is done? Is Alduin truly defeated?”

“Yes, it is done,” I said. “Hopefully Paarthurnax can win over the loyalty of the dragons because this is the path of peace and reconciliation.”

“You would wish for peace between humans and dragons, Dovahkiin?” Arngeir sounded hopeful.

“My Little Dragon is one of a kind,” Ulfric spoke up. “She is from a different world than Nirn.”

Arngeir’s eyes widened in amazement. “You would risk your very soul to save Nirn?” It was the first time I heard emotion in the man’s voice. “You do us a great honor, Dragonborn.”

We returned to Windhelm as fast as humanly possible, knowing that everything would be in turmoil in the absence of Ulfric. When we got there, it turned out that Galmar Stone-fist and Jorleif had things under control. Despite the Civil War still raging, a sense of peace and joy fell upon the land as Ulfric let it be known to one and all in Windhelm and beyond that the dragon, Alduin, had been defeated once and for all.

The celebrations throughout Skyrim were plentiful, and we all rejoiced that Nirn would be safe from the World Eater, though deep in my heart I knew that I only delayed the end, rather than stop it altogether. I didn’t let that dark thought dampen my mood. I had two husbands to occupy my time with and a civil war to think about. I didn’t have time to rest on my laurels. And so it was that Ralof, Ulfric, and I made plans to end the war.