Elder Scroll series 1. Chapter 1: Running

**A/N: I don't like these things, so I'll be quick. Thanks all for joining in on my story. I've been on Fanfiction for a while, but this is my first story on this site. I would greatly appreciate any comments and reviews you have. I have a general idea of this story in my head, but I am open to ideas if you'd like to participate in how this story takes shape. Thanks again for reading. This is a story. As such, the main character will have to grow some in order to find resolution and I will spend a good deal developing the story and action. This story is rated M for violence, sexual situations, sexual assault, and language. I had considered starting _in media res_ and do flashbacks, but I decided to start from the beginning so that I can develop the character before the major pivotal points. Solene is weak and highly dependent on others. She will have to change if she is to survive the war, dragons, and worse - politics.**

A rare blue sky greeted Solene as she opened her eyes. She was jostled about gently in the back of the wagon that her father drove slowly up the winding path of the Pale Pass. She sat up in excitement as they left craggy paths of Cyrodiil to her family's ancestral home – Skyrim. They had finally gone through the mountain pass and a forest of pine greeted them. Solene hunched over the back of the driver's seat.

"How much farther to Falkreath, Papa?" she asked, her excitement evident in her bright voice.

Her father chuckled and reached an arm back to ruffle her short blonde hair. "Not much farther, my dear. We should make it before midmorning."

"I'd swear," commented her mother, sitting by her father's side, "that you two don't miss Bruma at all."

"Of course I do," muttered her father solemnly which brought a pang of guilt to Solene's chest. "But I'd go where ever the Gods bid me if I could keep my family together and safe."

"Do they really fight the bans here, Papa?" repeated Solene. "Tell me about it again," she urged, resting her arms across the back of the bench and leaning her head across them.

"They say that Ulfric Stormcloak, enraged by the High King's submission to the Empire and their puppeteer's the Aldmderi Dominion, marched straight into Solitude and utterly destroyed the High King with his voice."

As if on cue, Solene gasped. "How, Papa?"

"We Nords call it the Thu'um, the language of the dragons."

"He speaks in dragon tongue?" she asked, eyes glistening even though she has heard the tale many times since the news reached them in Cyrodiil.

"Aye, daughter. He learned it from the Greybeards up in their monastery at the Throat of the World," he said pointing to the peak of the mountain looming above them.

"Brundi, stop it," scolded her mother. "It was stories like this that urged your daughter to pick a fight with those Thalmor. She wouldn't even be rotting in the Bruma dungeon, she'd be in the capital city or worse, shipped off to the Summerset Isles or some other Gods-forsaken place."

"We're safe now, aren't we, Helsa? Besides I'm proud of Solene. She stood up for her beliefs when we were too scared to do so. We call ourselves Nords? Cyrodiil made us soft, made us too blind to the weaknesses of the so-called Empire we served."

Helsa sighed heavily. "Look at all we've lost. We lost our shop and there's no way for me to fix the mess you made with the Jeaurrant's from Chorral. They will never take Solene now and she's only getting older," she pouted.

Solene scrunched up her nose. "Horace Jeaurrant was an Imperial," she said distastefully.

Helsa scoffed. "You didn't feel that way three months ago when you met him. When did you become a purist?"

"When Ulfric reminded us Nords that we should be proud of who we are," she beemed. "Right, Papa?"

Brundi grinned and nodded while Helsa crossed her arms over her chest and slumped down into her seat. As the road dipped down into the foliage, cutting through the middle of the hillside, Brundi's grin turned into a flat line across his face and he drew his horse to an immediate stop. Helsa lurched forward with a gasp while Solene's arms slipped off the back of the bench and her forehead smacked against the wooden frame.

"Brundi! What are you thinking?" cried Helsa, gripping his arm to steady herself.

"Quiet," he hissed softly.

"I don't hear anything," she complained.

"Exactly. The birds have flown off and the last fox I saw was running past us, going the other way."

"What? I didn't see a fox," she argued, trying to abate her unease with disbelief.

Solene stood up straight in the back of the wagon and pulled a dagger from the belt winding around her blue dress. "Something's coming," she whispered.

"Or already here," added her father on edge.

Helsa pulled at Solene's arm hissing violently. "Get down and put that away!"

"Yes, girl. Put that away before you get hurt," came a deep feminine voice. Imperial soldiers emerged from the brush while a woman in bright steel armor jumped from the gentle slope forming next to the road and approached the wagon. The officer took off her helm. "What are you doing here at the pass?" she commanded.

"We are merchants, traveling to Skyrim to open a new shop," replied her mother.

The officer eyed the wagon wearily. "And your entire livelihood remains in just one trunk?" Her gaze turned to the girl whom she scrutinized in great detail. Solene and her parents sat in uncomfortable silence.

"We suffered a great loss at our shop. We lost most of our wares, so we came home to our families in hopes of starting over," added Brundi.

The officer didn't take her eyes off Solene. "Do I know you, girl? Which city did you come from?"

Solene had to think quickly, but wisely. Cheydinhal suffered from riots a few weeks back, so she used that. "Cheydinhal, ma'am. My parents owned an armory there." She looked back at her parents who seemed to take some ease with her answer.

The officer's eyes flashed. "Nords? Living in Cheydinhal? Ralith!" She called and an imperial solder in leather armor stepped out of the ranks.

"Ma'am?"

"Where did you say you were from?" she asked, her eyes never leaving Solene.

"Cheydinhal, ma'am" he replied, his voice thick with the accent of a Dunmer. "Me parents own a little shop of the west side of town."

"Right. Any Nord business owners that you know of?"

Ralith scoffed. "Business owners? There weren't hardly any Nords livin there at all. An' if they did, I'd know 'em."

"Thank you, Ralith," she said with a voice void of gratitude. "You are under arrest."

Helsa stood up in her seat. "You can't! What have we done?" Her cries of indignation faltered as Imperial soldiers drew their swords at her action.

"You have lied to Imperial officers and were caught sneaking—" her charges were cut off as men and women cried out charging from the brush that the soldiers had emerged from earlier. "Stormcloaks!" cried the officer. "I knew it! You are rebels!" she sneered at the family.

Brundi held Helsa close while soldiers in blue clashed with soldiers in red. Solene's eyes glistened as she watched the conflict. A man in a large black pelt emerged from the trees shouting orders to the Stormcloaks. "Leave none alive! They must not know of our movements!"

"Give me that!" snarled the officer as she gripped Solene's arm tightly and pulled her from the wagon. She wrenched the dagger from her hand and threw it at the man in black. The dagger burrowed itself into a tree next to his head and his gaze turned towards the officer who grabbed Solene and held her sword at her throat. The man in black eyed the woman with disdain, but showed no emotion when the officer grabbed the girl. He stalked towards the officer who took a few stumbling steps back. Solene heard the woman gasp in her ear as the man took in a large breath, but Solene had already managed to wiggle a small knife from the slit in her dress and stabbed the officer in the thigh. In those quick moments, the officer cried out and threw Solene from her just as a sound like thunder bellowed against her ears and her body flew into the carriage, her head cracking against the side.


	2. Chapter 2: Into the Fray

**A/N: Yes, this chapter is Helgen. If you do not want to delve into Helgen... again, I can respect that and you can skip this chapter. It was important for me to explore it because I feel that the hints of the dragonborn rising started even here as it seemed that Alduin kept following her movements as if he could feel her presence but couldn't figure out who it was. It is also when a major character starts to question her importance too and plots to acquire her for his war.**

Solene opened her eyes to the jostling of a wagon. She blinked slowly, trying to remember her fading dream. She was fighting someone. A woman? Then there was a man who led the Stormcloaks. He used the Thu'um on the officer. Did he use it on her too? Her body felt like it. She started to consider taking her mother's advice and stop listening to her father's tales over and over after such a vivid dream.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake," said an unfamiliar voice.

Solene's head jerked up, feeling intense pain and throbbing behind her eyes. She blinked the blurriness out of her eyes and looked into the face of a blonde Nord in blue armor. Her eyes grew wide in shock as her fading dreams came back to her in a sudden rush of memories. The Imperials stopped them on the road. They didn't believe their story. The Redguard woman looked at her like she knew who Solene was, but they had just escaped Bruma. There was no way they could have found her that fast.

"You were trying to cross the border right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."

"I… we…" she stuttered slowly rolling her head around the wagon to look at the others. "We were trying to come into Skyrim when they stopped our wagon." Solene whipped her head around again, ignoring the pain. "Mother, Papa! Where are they?" She craned her head to look into the other wagon.

The blonde looked at her with sad eyes while the thief broke in. "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 be halfway to Hammerfell."

The blonde interrupted the horse thief. "You were trying to steal her family's horse in the midst of a battle. You kicked the old man to the mud and left him at the mercy of the Imperials and you damn us?"

The thief looked at the girl. "You there. You and me- we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire—"

Solene interrupted him. "Old man? Do you mean my father? What happened to him?"

The horse thief looked away and the blonde sighed. "You were knocked unconscious during the fight. You angered the Redguard woman pretty bad though," he added with a sad smirk. "She got knocked down too, but recovered quick and she went after you. Your mother tried to protect you, but… Well the Captain was pretty furious with you. Your father was going to help, when this thief leapt out from the bush and jumped on your horse, cutting the harness. Your father jumped for the horse, but he kicked him down. When the chaos had settled down... I'm sorry. Both your parents did not survive the fight. They were not soldiers, their blood did not need to be spilled. They thought that you were Stormcloak spies, but now we are all brothers and sisters in binds," he concluded solemnly.

Solene looked down at her hands, which she noticed were bound tightly by ropes. She was more distressed by her missing attire. "Where are my clothes?" she cried out.

The blonde chuckled a little at the memory. "The Redguard ordered it after you pulled the second knife. She was none to happy to find more within your garments. Surprising for such a young thing to being concealing so many weapons."

"Shut up, back there!" scolded the soldier driving their cart. Solene huffed and looked away, heat flooding to her cheeks.

"Whats wrong with him?" asked the thief, pulling Solene's attention to the man sitting next to her. Her eyes widened at him. It was the man in black.

"Watch your tongue," cried the blonde. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King." Solene stared at him in awe as he returned the thief's gaze.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they've captured you… Oh gods, where are they taking us?"

The blonde spoke softly. "I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." Solene gasped lightly. She felt the guilt of her crime creep up on her. She truly did not expect to pay for it so soon, and with her death. The Jarl looked over at her and sadness filled his eyes as he bowed his head slightly in regards to her.

"No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening," muttered the thief, in a panic.

"Hey, what village are you from horse thief?"

"Why do you care?"

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

"Rorikstead. I'm from Rorikstead."

A shadow passed over their faces and Solene turned to look at the gates of a town. The stonework and thatched roofs reminded her of home. Of Bruma. No it wasn't home anymore. She had decided that when she foolishly acted out against the Thalmor. Now they were here, and whether they recognized her or not, they were going to oversee her death.

"Where are we?" whispered Solene.

"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," replied the blonde. "Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

"Me too," replied Solene. "Until recently…"

"Where are you from, girl?" the blonde asked.

"Bruma. And stop calling me girl. I am a woman. I had a job, prospects. I had an arranged marriage to a wealthy man from Chorral. But I guess that's all over now..." she trailed off, feeling her ego deflate.

"And one who can handle herself in a scrap no less."

"Obviously not well enough," she muttered, rolling her head around her shoulders.

"Who are they, daddy?" asked a boy behind her grabbing Solene's attention. She turned to look at him. "Where are they going?"

"You need to go inside, little cub," replied an older man. His father no doubt.

"Why? I want to watch the soldiers."

"Inside the house. Now." As the boy begrudgingly got off the steps to go into the home, Solene desperately wished for her parents. Her thoughts were cut off as the cart slowed and lurched to a halt.

"Why are we stopping?" the thief voiced Solene's question.

"Why do you think? End of the line. Let's go. We shouldn't keep the gods waiting."

The blonde's strength and ease in facing death was somewhat comforting to Solene. She kept telling herself that soon it would be over and she could be with her parents again. They could be happy, without the fear of her mistake looming over them. They shuffled out of the cart while the thief pleaded with the Stormcloaks to clear things up with the Imperials, to tell them that he wasn't one of them. After what had happened that morning, Solene got the sense that the Imperials wouldn't care either way.

She waited while the Imperials called off the rebels who had been arrested and marked them off their list. The blonde, she found out was named Ralof and he was from Riverwood. The thief from Rorikstead was called Lokir. Instead of joining the rebels, Lokir cried out and ran. The officer called for him to halt and ordered archers to fire. Solene looked away as the thud of the arrows sounded, hitting their mark.

"You, step forward," ordered an Imperial soldier, holding a list. "Who are you?"

"I am Solene from Bruma."

"I knew you weren't from Cheydinhal," boasted the officer triumphantly.

"You picked a bad time to come home to Skyrim, kinsman." He turned to his officer. "What do we do? She's not on the list."

The officer glared at her. "Forget the list. She goes to the block."

"By your order." He turned to Solene again. "I'm sorry. At least you'll die here in your homeland."

Solene shuffled slowly to join the rebels. She drowned out the voices of the man in gold lecturing the Jarl. A roar echoed across the mountains and forests and everyone's head turned towards the sky. "What was that?" asked a soldier. The general brushed it off and continued with the execution. Solene barely paid any attention to the priestess praying for their souls. She began to feel ashamed for not doing so when a rebel shouted at the priestess to stop and approached the block bravely. Solene watched in shock. All these men and women were ready and willing to die for their rebellion. Solene wanted to look up to them for their courage like she had when she listened to her father's story, but now that it was real and this man was about to die, she began to question the point of it all.

As the executioner's axe lowered down towards the man, Solene gasped and looked away. Solene's questions were further set ablaze as she listened to the people watching, Nord people, cheering on the Imperials. Weren't they doing this for all of them? Wasn't this rebellion for all Nords?

"Next, the Nord in the rags!" called the captain eager to see her punished for the jab to her hip. Solene's attention was snapped back to the block. As the approached, the roar sounded again, making her shudder. Or was it the bloody stump with the head laying on the other side? She had never envisioned this for herself. Not when she taunted and drew off the Thalmor in Bruma. Not when her family fled in the middle of the night. She had romanticized her whole journey, and now reality was staring her in the face. She felt like her insides were burning and bile rose up in her throat.

'What have I done?' she thought to herself. Her parents are dead all because she thought she could take on the almightly Aldmeri Dominion. She should have just let them take Frotti. She was caught holding a Talos vigil. She knew what would happen. They had watched together as others were dragged into the street, put into a cart and never seen from again. Frotti knew better. Solene knew better. 'No.' She scolded her as the captain gleefully slammed her armored boot into Solene's back. Solene hugged the block with a renewed sense of purpose. Frotti didn't deserve to disappear for following in her family's footsteps and beliefs. None of them did. This was Nord tradition, their tradition. This was their lifeblood and their soul. Talos was once a Nord. How could they turn their backs on him? Solene did the right thing, and if she had to die, she knew she'd see her mother and father again in Sovngarde.

She stared up at the axeman, ready to accept her fate. Then she saw it. Shooting across the sky like a black fury. It landed on the tower behind the axeman who was knocked down with the impact of it's landing. Solene couldn't believe what she was seeing. She had read books about them, been told stories as a child, but this couldn't be. It was a dragon.

To confirm her suspicions, the dragon opened its maw and thunderous sound rang through the air and dark clouds formed overhead. Solene saw fire rain from the sky before another thunderous roar threw her to the side, knocking the wind out of her.

She gasped for air as she struggled to hear beyond the ringing in her ears. Her vision cleared and the ringing subsided as she realized someone was calling out to her.

"Hey, kinsman. Get up! Come on, the gods won't give us another chance! This way!" Ralof was hunched over amidst the raining fire and waving her over to him. She stumbled to her knees and then to her feet, and ran after him into a tower, dodging the flaming rocks and boulders. She stumbled into the tower and Ralof slammed the door shut. Solene flipped onto her back, heaving to catch her breath.

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?"

Ulfric turned to Solene and gazed at her a few moments before helping her to her feet and replying. "Legends don't burn down villages. We need to move. Now!"

Ralof and Ulfric looked around. "Up through the tower," shouted Ralof above the roaring and bombardment of stone and flames. "Let's go!" he shouted grabbing Solene's hand and leading her up the steps.

There were men at the second level desperately trying to clear away rubble when Solene yanked her hand back. She felt the air grow still, chokingly so and she stepped back, pulling Ralof with her. As Ralof stepped back onto the steps, shouting at her to stop, the wall of the tower caved in and the dragon blew fire inside its walls. Ralof turned, shielding Solene as the fire blazed passed them. When it stopped he let go of her and stared at her with disbelief. "How did you know?"

Solene looked around for answers. Ulfric stood a few steps below them looking at her with the same look in his eyes. Solene gaped a few moments before answering. "I don't know. I just felt it. Like a stillness in the air before a storm. Like the air was being sucked away."

"Well, thanks for that," he said while pulling her back up to the second level. He grasped her arms and faced her towards the opening the dragon had made. "See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep running!"

"No way! That's crazy!" Solene tried to struggle out of his grasp. There was no way she was jumping out of a tower into a burning inn. While she debated her options in her head, the dragon continued his assault on the tower and fire came down around the walls. Solene cried out and huddled into his chest.

"Go!" he cried pushing her towards the ledge. "We'll follow when we can!" With a final push, she kicked off the ledge and tumbled through the burning roof and onto the floor, rolling into the column. She turned to look for Ralof and the others following behind her. The dragon ceased its assault on the tower and swept over the inn. "Run!" cried Ralof again before disappearing from the gap. Solene ran through the inn and down the burning steps. She rushed out into the street and as her eyes adjusted to the smokeless air, she skidded to a halt before running into an Imperial soldier. He hadn't noticed her yet so she tried to sneak back into the inn, but beams fell down, barring her entry. She turned around and noticed him waving a young boy over to them. The boy ran over but then the dragon landed in the street, causing the boy to stumble.

Solene darted after the boy and scooped him up into her arms and rolled behind some rubble before she felt the air crackle again and a blast of fire flew around them. The boy cried in her arms and fought back. "Papa! Papa, no!" She let him go and the boy ran to an elderly man next to the soldier.

"Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way."

"Why would you help me?"

"Save the questions for when we're not all in grave danger from flying legends! Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join the defense."

"Gods guide you, Hadvar," replied Gunnar solemnly as he clung to the boy.

Hadvar had put himself in danger to rescue the boy and offered to guide Solene to safety. She really didn't want to trust the man, but there was a sincerity to him that she could not deny. Solene raced after him when he ran down the street that the dragon had occupied moments ago. She didn't see any other option.

"So what happens to me when you rejoin your general?" she asked following him.

There was another thud as the dragon landed on the wall above them. Hadvar slammed his arm into her chest as the two pressed their backs into the wall. The dragon let out it's firey breath, killing the soldier in front of them before Hadvar let go and turned to her. "Hopefully he'll see that you've aided us and pardon you, seeing as you are not a Stormcloak rebel." He then continued on and jumped through a gap in a burning house and bolted out the door to the courtyard beyond.

"You hope!?" called Solene, chasing after him.

When they entered the courtyard, Imperial soldiers were struggling to fight the dragon off. General Tullius pointed at Hadvar and then pointed west, ordering him to retreat. "Looks like its me and you, prisoner, keep up!"

Solene let out a breath, just glad that – for the moment – the general had forgotten that minutes ago, he had ordered her death. As they ran under the bridge towards the keep, the dragon swooped down and picked up a soldier next to them. Solene stumbled onto her back and watched at the dragon flew a wide circle and dropping the screaming man into the burning rubble. Solene felt a hand on her shoulder, hoisting her up and pushing her towards the keep. "Come on, kinsmen. Keep running!"

Hadvar skidded to a halt and turned around to face them. "Ralof! You damned traitor! Out of my way!"

"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time."

"Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde! Come on, prisoner. Let's go!" he called as he ran to the far end of the keep.

Ralof pulled at my arm with a gentle voice. "Leave him, kinsman. Let's go. I can cut you loose inside." Solene nodded at Ralof and followed him into the keep. Hadvar had shown sincerity now in the face of danger, but he didn't bat an eye when his superior had wrongfully offered her up to the axe moments ago. She followed Ralof to where a dead Stormcloak lay as he checked for any signs of life. When he found none, he wished him peace in Sovngarde. He stood and turned to me, taking out a dagger and held out his hand for mine. "Looks like we're the only one's who made it." I placed my bound hands in his and he cut the binds off. I rubbed my wrists and looked around. "That thing was a dragon! Just like the children's stories and the legends. The harbingers of the End Times."

"End times?" I asked, trying to remember that part of the legend.

"The stories say that when the dragons return, they will bring the World-Eater with them to devour the world. I hope its all just legend, but then again we thought that dragons were the stuff of stories as well. We better get moving, you might as well get dressed and arm yourself. He won't be needing them anymore."

I cringed at the thought of putting on a dead man's clothes, but I didn't like the thought of wandering the halls rags either. "Gunjar isn't coming back from the dead. No shame in borrowing a friend's axe. Take it." Solene sighed and helped Ralof strip the man of his armor. "All right, get that armor on," he said walking to the gate and turning his back to her.

Solene watched him a few moments until she realized he was waiting for her to dress. She quickly discarded the rags the Imperials put her in and put on the Stormcloak armor. It was warm. Much warmer than the rags, but too large for her. She picked up Gunjar's axe and swung it around. She wasn't used to the weight and feel of an axe and felt her body pulling with the swings and her shoulders and arms groaning. Her father taught her to use a sword when she was little. He believed that to be a good blacksmith, one had to know how to use a weapon to craft a good one. But she always preferred daggers and a bow. Solene went up to join Ralof when he sighed heavily and rattled the gate. "It's locked. Go check that one over there."

I turned around and headed for the other gate. I pulled at it and pushed and it didn't so much as rattle. "Blast. Looks like there's no way to open it from this side," he cursed.

"Keep moving!" bellowed a familiar voice from down the hall.

"Imperials! Take cover!"

"Its her," she growled and pressed her back to the wall next to the gate. Her blood boiled when she heard the captain and her men approach. This woman could have let her and her family go. They had no business in that ambush. Even when all sense told her to question her or imprison her instead of leading her to the block, that woman smiled when she sent her to her death. Solene found herself wanting this woman's death very badly.

Ralof put his finger to his lips and held his hand out telling her to wait. However, as soon as the captain stepped through the gate, Solene wouldn't wait. She cried out and brought the heavy axe down. It was heavier than she could manage and she found her body falling into the swing. It was haphazard and wild. It struck the captain, but it did little damage to her heavy armor. She stumbled to the side as another soldier ran into the room after Solene. Ralof grabbed the soldier by the shoulders and shoved his sword through the man's back. Solene scrambled after the officer who had regained her footing and took out her sword. The captain sneered at Solene and dodged her next wild attack.

"Axeman or dragon not good enough to kill you? Looks like I get that honor myself!" She walked over to Solene as she was getting up. She kicked Solene in the side, knocking her back down to the ground. She turned to her side to glimpse Ralof as he was tossing the body of the other soldier to the ground and moving to retrieve his sword from the soldier's stomach. As the captain went in for another kick to her abdomen, Solene caught a glimpse of something shimmer on her boot. She huddled into herself and she forced her gaze to stay on the boot. It was a small hilt of a dagger. When the captain went in for another kick, cursing her, Solene grabbed her foot and pulled her to the ground. She rolled away from her, grabbing the dagger in her boot as she did so and got to her feet as the captain regained her footing. "I'm going to slit you open, you little churl!"

Ralof made a lunge for her as the captain jumped on Solene. Solene's back hit the ground and she let out a shriek. Neither of them moved. "Solene!" cried Ralof as he made his way over to her. He picked the captain off of her and threw her to the side and turned to plunge his sword through her when he noticed the dagger sticking out of her side. He turned back to Solene who was sputtering for air, but otherwise unharmed. He helped her to her feet and patted her on the back. "Not bad for a first kill."

Solene grimaced but did not look away from the woman she had wanted dead. He slapped her on the back again. "Don't worry, it gets easier. My first kill, I threw up," he said with a laugh. Solene could definitely feel the bile rising in her throat, and Ralof's swatting her back was not helping. "I don't know what kind of life you came from in Cyrodiil, but here in Skyrim, its brutal. You did well, kid. Skyrim was bad enough with this damned war, but now with dragons? Stick close to me and I'll make sure you survive."

"Thanks," she mumbled as she left the discarded axe on the floor and picked up the woman's sword and scabbard and pulled the dagger from her side. She noticed a key hanging off the scabbard and she ripped it off and tossed it at Ralof. "Think you might be looking for this."

Ralof turned and tried it on the other gate and it opened. "Aha! Brilliant work!"

She wiped the blood off of the dagger on the captain's tunic and attached the scabbard to her belt and tucked the dagger in on her other side. She looked up at Ralof who was waiting for her and followed him into the keep.


	3. Chapter 3: Good Deeds

**A/N: The last two chapters were more of a prologue and now we're getting into the story. This chapter also introduces more of her potential future love interest. Who it is, I won't tell :) Right now I'm on spring break and so these updates will be quick now but no promises later.**

Solene followed Camilla out of the Riverwood Trader and followed her down the path to the bridge. Camilla stopped at the bridge and pointed up to the peak across the river. Black arches spanned the top and Solene shivered as she looked up at it remembering Ralof retell the stories and his own nightmares concerning the place. "That's where they took it. Thank you again for offering to do what Lucan would not. I'll leave you now before Lucan comes out looking for me. Good luck." Camilla walked back towards her brother's shop. Solene watched her go. As she passed a bosmer carrying wood, the elf watched her pass and when she returned inside, he dropped the pile of firewood he was carrying and ran over to her.

"Did I see you talking to Camilla just now?"

"Yes, she asked me to do a favor for her," replied Solene eyeing the elf. He was wearing a green tunic and had light hair spattered across his tan head. His large eyes were alight with excitement.

"Really? A favor? What did she ask?"

"Why?" she asked, getting cautious now.

The elf started wringing his hands as he thought of what to say. "Well, I was hoping if I could join you in doing this favor I could get her to notice me over that oaf, Sven."

"So you're Faendal." Solene smirked at the elf, inspecting him more closely. She'd heard about him from the locals. Camilla, Sven and Faendal were something like town celebrities as they were all deeply entrenched in a scandalous love triangle. He had a bow and quiver strapped to his back and he seemed quite lithe and agile. Solene was a good hunter and could beat the life out of a practice dummy at home, but she still only had one real kill under her belt. The wolves or bandits on the way to Riverwood didn't really count either because Ralof had charged in while she stayed behind with the bow and picked them off. She could use some help in a place like Bleak Falls Barrow. Even the name of it brought a shudder of fear. If the stories were true – and after all that had happened in the last couple of days she was ready to believe anything – there were undead stalking those halls and gods know what else. Not to mention the bandits she was sent after. "Sure, I could use a guide to help me out. I'm not exactly from around here."

"Where are you headed?"

"Bleak Falls Barrow," she offered, watching him closely. He seemed deep in thought but not overly perturbed.

"Hmm. That's an odd place for a favor."

"Some bandits broke in a stole something from Lucan. Camilla wants me to get it back. The thieves are hiding out up there."

"I see. Then let me join you, but please promise me you'll put in a good word to Camilla when we return."

Solene couldn't suppress a giggle. "Sure. Sure, let's go."

They walked up the path, Faendal leading the way. He stopped suddenly and crouched low. Solene followed suit, looking around frantically. Faendal pointed to the brush off the path a ways where something was rustling through the pine needles. Solene took her bow in hand and readied an arrow, waiting for it to emerge. A wolf stalked through the needles and sniffed the air. It caught sight of the two and hunched down, growling and barring its fangs. Before it could leap, Solene loosed an arrow that struck the wolf in its hind leg. The wolf faltered and whimpered but continued forward before another arrow struck it in the chest and it stumbled down, dead.

Faendal settled his bow onto his back, retrieved his arrow from the beast's chest and turned to Solene. "Not bad, but still some work to do." Faendal approached Solene and stood behind her grasping her arms and fixing her stance.

"H-hey! What are you doing?"

"Helping you survive. If you're going to use the bow as the weapon of choice, you better use it correctly." He moved her elbow up and pulled her shoulders back. "Keep a straight back. This is hunting and survival, not a game."

"I know!" she cried, indignant. "I've hunted before!"

"How many have you lost or had to chase down?"

"What?"

"How many prey have you had to chase down because you didn't kill it in one shot?"

"Its happened a few times… but-"

"No buts. Someday you'll find that instead of you chasing down your weakened prey, it will chase you down. Have you ever come across a cave bear? A sabercat?"

"Well… I did see a cave bear a few days ago," she offered, dejected.

"Oh?" He sounded hopeful. "How did that go?"

Solene looked down at the ground. "We snuck passed it."

Faendal laughed. "Well at least you got lesson two down."

"Lesson two?"

"Always be light of foot so that you see the enemy before they know you're coming. Usually I charge for lessons, but you just got two for free."

"Well I am helping you."

"Or maybe I am helping you," he countered with a smirk.

"Thanks, Faendal."

"No problem. Let's get going."

The pair made their way up the slope, coming across some bandits. Solene was ready this time and snuck forward with little prompting from Faendal. They approached a dilapidated tower slowly, trying to get as close as they could. An altmer woman in studded armor and red war paint across her face was resting against a tree while a redguard man in iron armor approached her from the bridge. "When are they come back? It's been days now. I'm tired of guard duty while they camp out up there away from the cold."

"Are you serious? Have you heard anything about that place? They say the dead walk free in there. I'm much happier out here in the cold."

"Well I'm freezing. Maybe you could keep me warm?"

"Don't get too comfortable around me, dog. I'd sooner stick my blade in your throat and bathe in your blood to keep warm than let you touch me," she growled.

"I love it when they threaten me."

Faendal pointed to the woman in the studded armor and Solene nodded, pulling out her bow. Faendal followed suit and aimed at the man in armor. Solene and Faendal shot at the same time. Solene's arrow struck the woman in the chest who fell down sputtering a few moments before she quieted. Faendal's shot struck the man in the throat. He stumbled back, grasping his neck as foamy blood fell from his lips. His back hit the wall to the tower and he slid to his right and tumbled off the bridge to the river bed below. Faendal straightened and approached the altmer and started rummaging through her things. He turned back to look at Solene, then back to the altmer. He pulled her armor off and walked over to Solene, holding it up to her. "Better than paying Alvor for it. Sure it's got a little blood on it, but it'll protect you better than that dress."

Solene looked down at the dress Gerdur had given her and then back at the bloody armor. "I'm tired of wearing the armor of the dead…" she mumbled.

Faendal shook his head but stuffed it in his pack. "Okay, okay. Let's strip them of anything useful to sell so you can buy yourself some decent armor when we return." Solene looked at him gratefully and helped him look around for anything useful before moving on.

It was a long and slow journey through the barrows, but the two had managed through in relative safety. Solene had learned much from Faendal and she was glad that she had brought him along. When they finally found the claw it was in the clutches of a trapped dunmer named Arvel. Faendal was quick to not trust him, but Arvel was right when he reminded them that there was no way to get the claw without cutting him down from the webbing in which he was stuck. Seeing no alternative choice, she cut him down. When he ran, Faendal was not surprised. They were however, shocked by his speed as he sped off down the hall. They gave chase and nearly got caught in the same trap Arvel did as a spiked gate swung across the room at him spearing him to the gate and slamming him into the wall with such force that blood spattered across the walls and onto the two who had leapt out of the way to safety.

Faendal helped her to her feet and chuckled. "Looks like you'll need a new dress along with some armor now."

"Gerdur is going to kill me!"

"Well at least Camilla will be happy," he replied happily as he managed to pull a golden claw from Arvel's bag.

"Thanks, I'm so glad for your concern."

"I'm sure Lucan will pay you enough for a new dress."

"He better…" she grumbled, pulling her sword and dagger from her belt. The commotion had woken several of the sleeping draugr in the hall who were now sitting up from their places of rest. Solene raced towards the nearest draugr who was still rising from his death bed. She spun quickly with her blades, using the force of her spin to stagger the draugr before finishing it with her dagger. She turned as two more focused on her. She took a low stance, waiting for one of them to make a move. She couldn't rush in on two enemies at once. She desperately wished now that she'd listened to her father when he lectured her on the importance of a shield. She always felt that she was quick enough to dodge. She didn't mind getting dirty and rolling around in the dirt. But that was when she practiced with him. He was slow and used heavy weapons. Now she faced down two, one with a great sword and the other with an axe. She knew they were heavy weapons and slow to swing, but she wasn't willing to wager her nimbleness against her life.

The one with the axe moved first, though the second was quick to follow. Solene had to be quick. She rushed passed the draugr with the axe, shoving it to the side and sliced her sword across the middle of the second and spun around plunging her dagger deep into its back. The draugr didn't fall as expected and it turned around, taking her dagger out of reach. It swung its massive sword around at her and she had to duck and roll away. She rolled into the legs of the other draugr knocking it to the ground as Faendal's arrow sped over their heads missing its mark. Faendal cursed and readied another arrow on the weakened draugr who was swinging his great sword down at the tangled mass of girl and undead on the ground. Solene slipped out of the undead's grasp as the great sword came down. It caught her on the calf, ripping through her dress and slicing through her soft skin. She cried out and rolled away, grasping her leg in her arms.

The swing had also taken out the axe arm of the draugr who was reaching for her leg. Faendal's loosed arrow thunked deeply into the standing draugr's chest and as it fell he ran up to the recovering draugr, now without his axe. He approached quickly from behind and pulled his bow over the draugr's head and pulled against its neck. He pulled and grunted from the strain until he heard the bone snap beneath the rotting flesh. Faendal released the draugr and it slumped to the ground. Not taking any chances, Faendal took out his steel dagger and cut through the rotten sinew and flesh and cut off its head.

He tossed the head unceremoniously to the side and slid to Solene's side. "Do you have a potion?" he asked as he tore open the skirt of her dress and continued ripping at the hem. Solene's pale face flushed for a moment as she weakly pushed out her hands to stop Faendal's destruction of her dress. He swatted her hands away with ease, deciding not to chastise her, but instead repeat his inquiry with more force. "Do you have a potion?"

Solene looked up at his face. Her head spun and she felt sick. She had to think hard about her answer. She had raided a storeroom in Helgen before her escape. She remembered grabbing potions from a barrel before leaving. She nodded slowly and reached for her bag. Faendal took her bag and rummaged through it, pulling out a small bottle with a dark red liquid sloshing inside. He pulled out the stopper with a pop and poured some of it over her wound before moving closer to her and wrapped an arm around her back pulling her up straight. He leaned her against his shoulder and used his free hand now to cup her chin, pulling her mouth open. "Swallow all of it," he ordered as he poured the rest of the poultice into her mouth. She sputtered and coughed, but he wouldn't relent. When the bottle was empty, he tossed it aside and laid her back down to rest. He took her torn skirt and wrapped the pieces around her calf tightly. "The potion will slow the bleeding. You should feel a little better in a few minutes." He turned back to Arvel's bag and continued rummaging through his things. "Spiders, traps, and now undead. Should have listened to all those stupid stories about this place."

Solene sat up slowly and clutched at her leg. It burned fiercely but she felt the sickness and spinning abate. She dug into her bag and took out the altmer's studded leather armor and grimaced at the bloody mark she made on the chest. She sighed and undid the lacing at the side of her dress and felt it slacken around her body. It wasn't hard to get off since there wasn't much of it left below the bodice. She quietly slipped it up over her head and started to put the studded leather armor on.

Faendal looked up from a book he was reading. He tan skin flushed red and he turned around quickly. "Good to see you finally gave up on that dress. Well not good to see. I mean… just… you'll be better protected in even that light armor better than that dress," he sputtered.

"I know. I should have listened to you," she said slowly, not caring about modesty anymore, but appreciating his nonetheless.

She got to her feet to finish putting the armor on and gasped as she put her weight on her leg. She staggered back into a pillar and Faendal rushed over to her. "Let me help you," he offered, pulling the armor up around her legs and latching and lacing it up. "You should really drink another potion before we head on further."

"Further? Aren't we done?" she asked taking another potion from him and twisting at the stopper a few times to get it out of the bottle. She sipped on the earthy potion.

"I was reading through the dunmer's journal. He is certain that there is treasure down here and that the claw is the key. What do you say? We already have the claw, we just need to find the lock for this key."

"How is it a key?"

"His journal says that 'when you have the golden claw, the solution is in the palm of your hands.'"

"'Solution in the palm of your hands?' What does that mean?"

"We'll find out when we get to the Hall of Stories," he said moving down further into the hall, careful avoid the pressure plate trap that triggered Arvel's death.

"The what?" she called, stumbling after her. "Hey what's going on?"

Faendal stopped and put a finger to his lips. "Shhh. I'd much rather proceed quietly than wake anymore residents." He waited for her to catch up and offered his arm as support. She took it gratefully and the two proceeded together. He continued at a whisper. "Ancient Nords built these places to house their most honored dead. Their greatest warriors would have a following and at the time of their death, they were buried with their soldiers and all their worldly possessions so that when they reached Sovngarde they would be honored even in death. Some of the legends even say that these great warriors also served the dragons and when they died they were barred from Sovngarde and were forced to wander these halls even in death."

"So now we're going deeper into a tomb of the living dead to find the most powerful of them all and what? Steal from him?"

"Yes. That's exactly what I'm thinking," he replied with a smile that was infectious and a confidence that seeped into her bones.

With the help of multiple potions, Solene was able to support herself again, though not without the burning pain in her leg reminding her of her lack of training. They managed to sneak through the halls of the dead without rousing any awake and past several traps that she and Faendal had to work together to avoid or disarm. They made it to a large room with steps leading up to a bridge above. Faendal pointed at a trap awaiting ahead of them in the form of a fire pot and smiled. "This one we can use to our advantage," he said picking up a piece of rubble and tossing it into a dark puddle at the far end of the room. He readied his bow and waited. When the draugr on the second floor heard the sound they came to investigate. As they stepped into the dark pool, Faendal released his arrow, shot the rope holding the pot and when it fell it exploded in flames and the dark pool caught fire and engulfed the draugr standing in it.

"Oil," breathed Solene, surprised. "Finally some traps that will help us out."

"Hopefully that will be the last one we'll have to use. I'm already going to have nightmares for weeks." They skirted around the flaming floor and up the steps to cross the bridge and into the halls above. They had managed to get through by using silence and cunning as their biggest weapons. They finally pushed through two large iron doors and Solene gasped at the long decorated hall before them. At the end stood a wall with rings and markings on it. They walked slowly through the hall looking at the pictures on the walls. They seemed to depict different tales. "The Hall of Stories," she said slowly, running her hand across the raised edges. "Then that must me the door," she said approaching the wall at the end of the hall and pulling the claw out of her bag. "'When you have the golden claw, the solution is in the palm of your hands,'" she repeated and pressed the claw's long nails into the slits in the door. She pressed and felt it give. She felt a rush of excitement. She tried to turn the claw like she would a key, but it did not budge. She pressed harder into the claw, putting her body weight into it. It ceased to more forward anymore and no longer budged. She took the claw back out of the door and frowned. "I think I did it wrong."

"Let me try," he said taking the claw and pressing it into the door and tried to maneuver it around. Solene walked back down the hall, examining the portaits there. "'The solution is in the palm of your hand…'" she muttered to herself, thinking. She knew it wouldn't be this easy. The ancient Nords were famed for their puzzles as they had discovered earlier with the rigged gate. Luckily they were warned of the trap by the bandit who tripped it, causing poisonous arrows to shoot him down for not setting the picture stones to the correct combination. They had discovered quickly that their absolute attention was required to survive this tomb. "'Palm of your hand…'" She looked at her hand, even checked the pictures in the hall. Then it hit her. She walked up to Faendal, took the claw from his hand and flipped it over in her palm. Engraved on the palm of the claw were three symbols, descending in size. She looked back to the door and it was as if she noticed the rings for the first time. She pressed onto the large stone rings and slid them around to match the symbols on the claw. She pressed the claw back into the slits and pressed, this time the give was even greater and she turned it slowly. There was a clicking sound and the rings began to grate as they spun on their own and the door lowered into the ground. Solene had to quickly jerk the claw back before losing it.

"Brilliant!" lauded Faendal, slapping her on the back. They walked into the cavern together. At the other end of the cavern there were steps leading out and a platform with a stone sarcophagus and behind that, a large wall with a dragon relief and strange markings carved below it. "Wow! Would you look at that!" He whistled. They snuck up past the sarcophagus, not wanting to face the resting warrior within. Faendal crouched in front of the chest and looted through it, whistling and laughing. "Forget Lucan's payment, this is more than enough."

Solene didn't hear his glee however. Her ears began to ring and the air grew heavy like it did back in Helgen. Her vision blurred on everything except the wall before her. It hummed to her, through her, pulled her forward. She reached out a hand and brushed her fingers across the markings. "Fus…" she whispered and shivered when she felt the latent power of the word course through her.

"Huh? What was that Solene?" asked Faendal putting his hand on her shoulder. Solene snapped out of her reverie and looked up at Faendal. "You can't read that can you?"

"Yes. No. I mean, I think so. Sort of. I can't understand it but I know the words."

"Okay," replied Faendal slowly. "Come on, let's return Lucan's treasure." As they stepped down towards the sarcophagus there was a loud crack and the lid flew open. The draugr within rose up, threw aside the stone he had clutched to his chest and roared at them. Solene could swear she could hear words within his roar but she couldn't understand it.

Instead of pulling out his bow, he drew his dagger. "I'll keep him busy. You stay back," he said pulling off his quiver of steel arrows and handing it to her. "Just try not to shoot me." Solene took his quiver and replaced her Iron-tipped arrows. Faendal was quick with his small jabs and slices, but it was having little effect on the dead warrior. Solene nocked an arrow. She remembered what both her father and Faendal taught her. She rolled back her shoulders and stood up straight, raised her elbow, and closed her eyes to take a deep breath. She opened them again and focused on her target and waited. The draugr had kicked Faendal in the chest and he fell to the ground. It stalked up to him ready to swing his frosty battleaxe down on him when Solene let out the breath she had been holding and let the arrow fly. It flew straight through the slit in the draugr's helm and pierced it in the eye. The axe slipped out of its grip and he fell backwards.

Faendal picked himself up and brushed off his green tunic. "Great shot," he praised, out of breath. "Now let's get out of here before anything else jumps out at us." Solene headed for the stairs, but stopped and picked up the stone tablet that the draugr was holding. She tucked it into her bag and followed Faendal up the steps.

It was a slow trip back down the mountain. The cavern had let out near Lake Ilinalta and so they picked down the rocky path slowly, Faendal offering support to Solene. They made their way back east towards Riverwood. When they finally returned, Faendal helped her into Riverwood Trader. Camilla shot up from her chair, knocking it over and rushed to the pair. "Faedal! Solene! What happened?"

"Just a couple draugr," answered Solene with a smile. "Nothing too difficult for this guy though. He saved my life in there."

"Hardly. Your brilliance saved us more than once," replied Faendal, bashful.

"He's lying; being modest. If I hadn't gone in without him I wouldn't have come back and never come back with your treasure." Solene smirked as she saw Camilla's eyes fall on Faendal and glisten with a new appreciation.

"Did you get it? Did you get back my claw?" asked Lucan coming around the counter.

"Brother! This is hardly the time! We need to find a healer."

"No, no. I'll be fine. I'm just going to go back to Gerdur's and rest for a while, and yes Lucan, I found it," she added pulling the claw out from her bag. Lucan clasped it gingerly and placed it back on the counter. He then scooped up the coin pouch sitting nearby and placed it in her hands. "Thanks. I'm going to go and rest now."

"Let me help you," offered Faendal, moving to support her again.

Solene brushed him off and opened the door. She leaned against the doorframe as she made her way out. When the door closed, Solene smiled and stood up from the frame and walked back to Gerdur's with ease, the pain having subsided a while ago.

When she walked back into Gerdur's house, she heard Ralof's voice from around the corner. "That must be her." He rounded the corner and his face lit up. "There she is. The savior of Riverwood has finally come back from helping shopkeepers and damsels alike," he teased. "And I see you've looted some armor. What happened to Gerdur's dress?" he asked as another blonde Nord joined him wearing stormcloak armor.

Solene grabbed the dress from her bag and handed it to Ralof with a guilty look.

"By the Nine! What happened?"

"Tell Gerdur I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to ruin her dress…"

"Forget Gerdur! What happened to you?!" he cried as he shook the dress out revealing a bloody and shredded rag.

"Well Lucan wanted me to get his stolen claw back from Bleak Falls Barrow and—"

"Bleak Falls Barrow?! Why in all Tamriel would you go there? This is why she has to come with me, Ralof," interrupted the stormcloak next to him. Solene turned her full attention to him now. He had bright blue eyes like the skies visible from the Imperial City and short swept back blonde hair. He had a relatively smooth face for a Nord, but his features were strong and chiseled like the rest of his race.

"My apologies, Solene. This is Einar. He is an emissary of the Jarl."

"The Jarl requests your presence at Windhelm. He sends his apologies and his offer of assistance in light of recent events."

Ralof beamed. "See, I told you Ulfric would welcome you to the Stormcloaks with open arms."

Solene was taken aback by this man's sudden appearance and summons. She was just as prisoner from Helgen. Why would Ulfric reach out to her? Did he feel guilty for her parents' death? Ralof has been more than accommodating since their escape. Perhaps his Jarl was of the same mind. Her thoughts were interrupted with the memory of the promise she had made to Gerdur. "But what about Whiterun?" she asked turning to Ralof. "I have to warn them about the dragon and request help for Riverwood."

"Ralof can take care of that simple task, I am sure," answered Einar. Ralof made a face that took Einar's attention. "What? You can't run a simple message to Whiterun?"

"It has been a few days since Helgen. I am sure the word has spread by now and that Whiterun would have heard. I am known as a Stormcloak. Balgruuf would not appreciate my presence in his city."

"Right," nodded Solene. "You said it yourself. It's a simple task. I will go give the message myself and take a carriage to Windhelm."

Einar gazed at Solene for a few moments and then sighed. "Very well. If you will take this detour to Whiterun, then I shall accompany you. I am not as well known as Ralof. I will need to buy some new armor before we go." He gazed at her again. His eyes lingering on her. "We should get you some armor as well. Something that is actually made and fit to you; not some elf's scant armor that has you busting at the seams."

Solene's face brightened and she felt her anger bubble up in her. Did he really just scrutinize her like that? Yes she was a Nord and it was a tight fit did he need to belittle her like that? She suddenly wished that the cheery Ralof could accompany her and not this formal and stiff Einar. This would prove to be a long trip.


	4. Chapter 4: The Dragonborn Comes

**A/N: This chapter covers the dragon fight and the birth of the Dragonborn. I know right now this is Skyrim Canon and you've been through this story tons, but I am also adding details to plant a seed to grow later. Shorter chapter though.**

Solene followed Irileth out of Dragonsreach in a hurry. Einar, who had been waiting outside just to be safe, hurried to catch up. He grew worried after a Whiterun soldier had burst through the doors calling for the Jarl and she hadn't returned for some time after. He was surprised that the guards at the gate had even let them in. It seems though that Solene has a way with words when she is bound and determined to see something done. He had considered going in after her, but then Irileth had stormed out with a determined Solene following behind her. He didn't like the look in her eyes when she had run passed him. He knew what it meant. This simple task of delivering a message just got that much worse.

He finally caught up with her as the dunmer housecarl was addressing Whiterun guardsmen. He reached a steel gloved hand out for her arm and pulled her back a few paces. "I trust we're done with our errand and can be moving on now." Solene pulled her arm out of his grasp and straightened her leather armor. She kept her eyes forward, but forward had nothing to hold her gaze. She was avoiding him. "Solene…" he chided before he heard the worried murmurs of the soldiers. His attention turned to them.

Irileth paced back and forth in front of her men. When they broke out in protest to her affirmation, she quieted them with an impassioned speech. "You heard right! I said a dragon! I don't much care where it came from or who sent it. I care that it made the mistake of attacking Whiterun!"

"But Housecarl… how can we fight a dragon?"

Einar gripped Solene's arm much harder and pulled her towards the door of the barracks. "What are you thinking?!" he chided again in a hoarse whisper. "You can't possibly think you are going to help them fight a dragon!"

"Jarl Balgruuf asked it of me. I won't let them go alone."

"Oh yes, yes you are. Jarl Ulfric has requested you in his city. He has offered you protection. You can't go gallivanting off like some hero of legends and think you can go around slaying dragons! You'll get yourself killed! You of all people should know. You saw Helgen! One of those things turned an entire fort into rubble."

Solene's eyes changed from a child's look of avoidance and bashfulness to a fire and a fury that caught Einar off guard. She tore her arm out of his grasp and stood up straighter, looking him in the eye. "You're right. I was there. You weren't! You didn't see the chaos. You didn't see how easily it destroyed Helgen and then flew off without so much as a scratch. Now, for all I know, it could be the same dragon attacking now. I won't sit by and watch it destroy more homes, more families!"

"Listen to yourself!" he hissed, trying to not be heard over Irileth's speech. "You saw what it had done and how little they had managed to do against it. Why are you throwing yourself at it now?"

"You don't understand. I have to go with them." Solene's eyes glistened with tears of resolve. Even though the woman formed tears before him, Einar could see that it didn't crack her determination at all, only fueled it.

He sighed heavily. "Fine, we'll go, but when we get there you will do exactly as I say, understand?" he demanded, pointing at her for extra effect.

Solene couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips. "Deal." Einar huffed and turned away in annoyance. How easily this girl could tug at his emotions and then snap them back into bitter annoyance, but he was on an important mission and he had to do whatever it took to get her to Windhelm. Somehow this girl was important to the Jarl and he would not disappoint.

"Messenger!" called Irileth from the gate, having not particularly cared to learn the girl's name in all of the commotion. "Are you coming?"

"Remember," Einar added, pointing at her again. "You follow _my_ instructions when we're out there. I won't have you getting killed." Solene nodded and the pair, along with Balgruuf's housecarl and guardsmen can west for the burning watch tower.

As they ran, Solene kept pulling at her armor and shifting it around her person. Einar nudged her back, reminding her to hasten her step. "Stop playing with it. It's an excellent fit." He glanced sideways at her. "I… I must say I was impressed at how well you managed the craft. I daresay better than Alvor at his own forge. Thanks…" He sighed, finding it both difficult and easy to give the compliment. "Thanks for my armor as well. It is sturdy-built and will serve me well."

Solene blushed and looked down, both surprised and delighted by the compliment. Back home she only apprenticed under her father and even when she had completed orders in his stead he always got the recognition for it. It was new for her to see her work and deeds become highlight. It was almost intoxicating. Einar grabbed her arm again, a little more gently this time, and sped up. "Hurry, we have fallen behind."

They approached the tower and the company slowed their pace. Before they reached it they stooped low behind some rocks to assess the situation. The tower lay in rubble and fire. It was quiet. No birds or animals even dare come near the site of the wreckage. Solene's heart dropped thinking that they were too late and that the dragon had moved on to terrorize some village next.

Irileth covered her gaze from the bright flames nearby and scanned the area. "No signs of any dragon right now, 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." Irileth drew her sword and approached the tower, her guardsmen and Solene following after her.

Einar gripped Solene and pulled her back against the rocks. "You stay here. If there is a dragon around, you will remain behind this rock. You understand?" His eyes were fierce and Solene knew she would find no compromise this time. She silently nodded her head and turned and leaned into the rock to watch him and the guards investigate the tower. It wasn't long to find any signs of life however. A man from inside the tower came out, shouting and waving his hands. A roar thundered from the mountains to the south and all eyes turned towards it as a dragon came into view making its way back to the tower.

Solene fought against herself to stay hidden behind the rock as the guardmen, Irileth and Einar clashed with the dragon. Arrows flew everywhere as fire rained down upon them. She felt a pull in her chest, feeling guilty that they fought while she hid. She examined the scene more closely. The tower was too far away for her to accurately fire from her position. There was no way she could help and follow Einar's orders at the same time. She would have to disappoint him, but if it saved his life, then he'd have no room for complaint later. She had hoped. She resolved herself to this plan and stepped out from behind the rock and ran down the path towards the tower. As she got closer, she nocked an arrow, took a deep breath, aimed ahead of the dragon's path and fired.

The arrow missed and the dragon swooped low instead to pick up a guardsman and throw him. Solene cursed and nocked another arrow. She took a deep breathe again, calmed herself and waited. The dragon had turned and flew to the east, towards her making her target as static as it would be. She fired and caught the dragon on its scaled head. It roared and whipped its head around causing it to falter in its flight. It plummeted to the ground towards Solene who ducked and rolled out of the way. The dragon crashed into the ground and slid through the terrain. She stood up to catch sight of Irileth and Einar running towards her. Einar had a look or fury on his face, but his eyes showed something else. He waved at her madly, sweeping his hand down, telling her to move out of the way. She heard a roar behind her as the dragon recovered and with a giant stride made its way to her quickly. Einar reached her first. He pushed her to the ground and ran forward to meet the dragon.

Einar slashed at the dragon with his sword, trying to stay quick on his feet and under the beast. The dragon was much too quick however and had taken a large step back and with its massive head hit Einar like a battering ram and threw him to the side. Enraged at his assault, the dragon stalked towards the Nord now lying in the dirt and made to snatch him up in his dreadful maw when an arrow sailed past its head and buried into its shoulder. It turned towards the girl in leather wielding a bow of orcish craft, but she was fast. Another arrow met its mark in its eye. It roared and shook its head, but faltered. Solene approached now at a steady rhythm, reading another arrow and loosed it upon the dragon who fell from the onslaught. The dragon stared at the girl with hateful yellow eyes, swearing an unspoken oath to return for her and her kin as soon as he awoke again.

Then something happened. Its cry was clear to all who had stood witness as it reared back up and roared with the words: "Dovakiin, no!" It slammed back into the earth and a fire blazed from within causing a low murmur from those around and they stepped back in fear. Einar, who had recovered, grabbed Solene in his arms and turned away to shield her from the flames. But the fire did not burn as it ate away at the dragon's body and burst forth and covered them both in flame. Einar stepped back, looking down at himself, but stepped back further, looking on in awe as he realized the flame was surrounding Solene.

She stared down at her hands and body which should have burned in the fires engulfing her, but it did not. Instead her body hummed with power and in her head she heard the voice of the dragon, of the dovah. She had understood now. Those markings on the wall. It was the language of the dovah, the dragons. The meaning of the word she had learned in Bleak Falls Barrow hummed in her head as she felt knowledge and power run through her. Something in her had changed, had awoken and she suddenly knew that she was meant to be here, in Skyrim, at Helgen, and here now. Something was guiding her here and she had a burning desire to find out what.

The guardsmen all rushed around Solene, but they did not approach too closely. Irileth was slow to join the crowd. "I can't believe it!" they muttered amongst themselves.

"What's going on? What happened?" she asked confused.

Solene looked to Einar who had a similar look of awe on his face. "So it is true then…" he muttered.

"You are… dragonborn!" cried one of the guardsman in excitement.

"Dragonborn? What do you mean?"

"In the very oldest tales," offered Einar, "The dragonborn would slay dragons and steal its power."

"That's what you did, isn't it? Absorbed its power?" asked a guard.

"I think…" Solene remembered the rush of knowledge that flooded her when the fire from the dragon surrounded her, the sudden knowledge of the word she had learned. "I think so… I mean, I could hear its voice in my head and suddenly I could understand some of its language."

"They say that a dragonborn can use the power of the dragons in the form of a shout. Show us! Show us what the dragon showed you!"

Solene remembered the word she whispered in Bleak Falls Barrow. When she whispered it she could feel the latent power of it. Now she tried it again. As she shouted the word, the power pulsed through her body, the air became still, and a great force flew from her mouth. Einar and another guard had stumbled back as it hit them. "Sorry! I'm so sorry!"

The guard broke into a laugh. "It is true! She is dragonborn!"

"What do you say, Irileth? You've been quiet."

Irileth pushed through the crowd of guards and inspected the girl with a critical eye. "I don't know of this talk of dragonborn, but I know what I just saw. There is a dead dragon and that is what I care about." Irileth approached Solene and offered her arm. Solene took her hand in hers and the two embraced in a warriors greeting. "You surprise me, girl, but I am glad to say that you faught for Whiterun tonight. Go and return to the Jarl and tell him of what happened here. I am sure he will be more interested in Nord legends than I."

Solene nodded to the dunmer and said her goodbyes to the guards. She looked to Einar who nodded and turned back for the road. The walk back to Whiterun was silent and tense. Solene felt like a child again waiting to be scolded. She finally took a deep breath and confronted the tension. "You're mad, aren't you?"

Einar considered this question in silence for a few moments before answering truthfully. "Yes, I am." Solene lowered her head and watched her feet as they walked down the road. He glanced at her and let out a short laugh. "It seems as though you are going to make it very difficult from now on for me to keep you alive." Solene looked up at his half smirk and smiled back at him with a wicked grin. He laughed out loud as they walked in the darkness.

Solene's smile grew sincere. "That's the first time I've heard you laugh."

Her observation caught him off guard. "Really? I guess this has just been a stressful mission."

Solene's gaze dropped down the ground again. "I'm sorry," she replied softly, hurt lacing her words. She was more hurt than anything to be referred to as 'a mission.' "I wish I wasn't so much trouble for you."

Einar's voice softened as he tried to correct his mistake of words. "No. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that you were trouble. It's just that this was actually my first mission from Jarl Ulfric. Truly I've been nervous about it since I left Windhelm."

"Nervous? Why?"

"Retrieving you and bringing you back safely to Windhelm was important to the Jarl. The Jarl sensed something important in you back at Helgen and didn't want a girl like you wandering alone in Skyrim."

"Did he know? That I was… Dragonborn?"

Einar shook his head. "I don't think so. At least he didn't mention it to me."

"So what should I do? Will he know more about me and what I am?"

"He did train for years to master what you just did by that tower. I'm sure he would know something to-"

Suddenly the ground shook and words traveled through the air like thunder. "DOVAHKIIN"

"Those are the same words that the dragon spoke before it died." Solene turned towards Einar. "What does it mean?"

"That was the voice of the Greybeards from the mountain," he said looking up to the Throat of the World, Solene's gaze following.


	5. Chapter 5: High Hrothgar

**A/N: We learn a little more about Solene in this chapter and why she struggles with trusting herself, but this isn't the only secret she keeps closely guarded. Thanks to SpiritofJazz for your review. It was much appreciated, especially since your story is one of my favorites.**

Einar grasped Solene as she stumbled to the snow. Solene was shaking in his arms, but not from the cold or the pain. She was shaking from anger. "I hate trolls!" she growled into his muscular arm. Einar undid the clasps around her leather pauldrons and ran his fingers across her shoulder.

The troll had watched them ascend the steps and into the small pass. Once they had walked under the outcropping on which the troll hid, it jumped down upon them with a loud roar. It landed on Solene, smashing its large arms onto her back. Solene cried out and collapsed onto the ground and the troll merely continued its assault on her back and arms. Einar let out a fierce battle cry and as the troll turned to run he leapt on its back and plunged his sword into it again and again until it stopped moving beneath him.

Solene cried out when he brushed over the top of her shoulder. "It's not broken, but I'll have to set it back."

"What does that mean?" she gasped.

"It means your shoulder is sticking out of its place and I'll have to push it back in so that it isn't damaged permanently."

"It's going to hurt isn't it?" she whimpered.

Einar chuckled despite his concern. "The legendary Dragonborn is afraid of a little pain?"

"Don't tease me Einar and just get it over with."

He dragged over a fallen log and sat her on it. "Okay, lay down flat," he instructed, pushing her gently onto her back. He knelt down next to her and grabbed her hand gently and patted her reassuringly. "Don't move once I start," he ordered lacing his fingers in hers. He slowly moved closer to her side, being gentle with her arm and leaned back to press his foot into her side below her arm. "Don't move," he warned again. She clenched her eyes shut and nodded quickly. Slowly, steadily, he pulled against her arm. He felt a quick shudder and a loud gasp slip from her lips at her shoulder popped back into place. "Feel better?" he asked, slipping his foot from her side and helping her sit up.

"A little," she said in short gasps. "But a little less than excruciating still hurts." She groaned as she sat up. Einar pulled the cork out of a bottle with his teeth and handed it to her. Solene grabbed it and drank greedily at first before nearly coughed it up. "This is not a health potion," she commented looking at the amber bottle.

Einar smirked. "I figured some Black-Briar Mead would be better in this instance than a healing potion. It will dull the pain," he said slowly and rubbed her arms. "Warm you up too." Solene had suddenly realized that she was shivering. Einar took the bear pelt from his shoulders and wrapped it around hers. "Come on, High Hrothgar shouldn't be much farther." He slipped his arm around her other side and hoisted her to her feet. They progressed slowly to the steps of High Hrothgar and stopped before the doors. Einar reached into her bag, took out the preserved food from Klimmek and dropped them in the chest sitting there, then returned to Solene, and supported her up the steps.

Solene knew she didn't need any real support but she liked having the stiff, uptight Einar fawn over her. She was sure it was because of Ulfric's mission, but she was going to ride it out as long as she could. She had never truly been alone in her life and she was not ready for it yet. "What? Not going to tease me about helping others this time?"

"No," he replied, matter-of-fact. "Not this time." As they entered the hall, monks in grey cloaks were already gathered in the main room. Einar let go of her side and let her approach on her own.

As she stepped through the threshold one of the monks approached her. His face was weathered and his hair grew long and drained of color. The others watched her with intense gazes. "So…" he addressed her as she came fully into the room. "A Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age."

"What does that mean? To be Dragonborn?" she asked, the question having lingered on her mind for many nights.

"First, let us see if you truly are Dragonborn. Let us taste of your Voice."

Solene sighed and took in a deep breath. Once again she felt the air still and crackle with energy. "FUS!" she shouting, shattering pots and urns and sending one of the monks stumbling back.

The monk who seemed to speak for all of them gave a half-smile and a single nod. "Dragonborn," he addressed her. "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?"

"I want to know what I am. What it means to be Dragonborn. How do I control this power? How do I learn? What am I supposed to do with it?"

Arngeir chuckled. "Slow down, my child. I will answer all your questions in time. Without training, you have already taken the first steps towards projecting your Voice into a Thu'um. Now let us see if you are willing and able to learn," he said, waving her into the room to stand among them. "When you shout, you speak in the language of the dragons. Thus, your Dragon Blood gives you an inborn ability to learn Words of Power."

"The word on the wall in Bleak Falls Barrow. It called to me and I felt that I knew it even though I could not understand it. Then when I absorbed the power from that dragon, I felt myself learning more about their language and the knowledge of the word from the Barrow came to me and I could shout." She explained it more to herself than to them.

"Exactly. But that was not the full Shout. All Shouts are made up of, in fact, three Words of Power. You only learned one. With each Word you master, your Shout will become stronger. Master Einarth will now teach you 'Ro,' the second word in Unrelenting Force, the Shout you began to learn in the Barrow."

The monks taught her the second Word to the Shout and made her practice it. They tested her ability to learn and to use it. Once they were satisfied Arngeir clapped his hands together. "Very well. You have proven yourself Dragonborn and we shall train you. You will stay with us and learn to master your Voice and how to use it. Your companion may leave you now. You are safe with us."

Solene looked back to Einar with a panicked expression. "What? I—" she shuttered.

He also did not seem to agree with their assurances as he stepped forward. "I cannot do that, Master Greybeard," he began respectful, but forceful. "I have a duty to Solene and I cannot leave her until I see it done."

Master Arngeir considered him for a while, looking into his eyes. Whether he was uncomfortable under the scrutiny, Solene would not know for he did not show it. The two continued staring at each other for several minutes. Solene began to wonder about the silent conversation the two were having. Arngeir nodded slowly. "Very well. You may stay for the duration of her training. You will rest in our living quarters. Master Borri will put out a bedroll for you. You may not disturb us during our training otherwise you will be forced to wait out the duration down in the village." Arngeir's tone was also forceful and resolute. His terms were not to be negotiated.

Einar bowed his head in agreement. "Very well, Master Arngeir."

"Good. We will continue our training in the courtyard. You will remain here." Arngeir offered no explanation, just an order. Both Solene and Einar knew that he was testing them. Einar nodded, took up a seat in the main hall as Solene followed the Greybeards outside.

Later than night, Solene and the Greybeards had finally returned from the courtyard. Einar rejoined them as they settled down to eat. Arngeir congratulated Solene on her adept understanding of the Voice and promised that her stay will in fact be a short one for soon they may run out of things to teach her. After dinner, the four monks retreated to their various locations for more study or meditation.

Solene was led to an initiates room off of the main hall. It was clear that it had not been used in a while, but they had made the attempt to make it more hospitable after summoning her. Solene turned to Master Borri and bowed her head graciously. "Thank you." Master Borri bowed his head and turned to leave, walking past Arngeir at the door. "Why don't they speak?"

"Their Voices are too powerful for anyone not trained in the Way of the Voice to withstand. Even a whisper could kill you."

"Is that how Ulfric Stormcloak killed the High King?"

Arngeir bowed his head and shook it slowly. "Ulfric Stormcloak did indeed train with us. He was the last to take up residence in these rooms and he was to become one of us. However, he heeded the call of war instead of staying true to the Voice. His Voice is still weak, but his knowledge of the Thu'um is not to be understated, as High King Torygg found out."

"Why was leaving for war not staying true?"

"The Voice was a gift from the Goddess Kynareth so that we may speak as dragons do. The gift has often been misused over the ages; the only true use of the Voice should be to worship the gods, not for war or battle. True mastery can only be achieved when one finds a balance within oneself. Young Stormcloak left to fight in his father's war before becoming one of us and so he never truly achieved balance." Solene could sense a resentment in Arngeir's voice when he spoke of Ulfric so she let that subject drop, but another question loomed over her thoughts.

"Master Arngeir. You say that to master the Way of the Voice, one must find peace and use the Thu'um only for worship and glory. But how can I follow those teachings when I must slay in order to learn? Am I chosen just to become a monk like you? What if I do not wish to follow those teachings and use my Voice for Nirn?"

Arngeir nodded gravely. "When it comes to the Dragonborn, there is an exception to those restrictions as your gift is bestowed on you directly by Akatosh himself. There is no doubt in my mind that the resurgence of a Dragonborn during this time is no accident. Your destiny is surely bound with that of the return of the dragons. You should focus on honing your Voice and your path will become clear to you, my child, in time."

"Surely there is more you can teach me? I am ready to learn and confident."

"Do not let your ease with which you have attained this power lead you arrogance and pride. That is a dangerous path that many Dragonborn have fallen to before you. For now, you should rest and meditate on all that has occurred today. You will learn more when you are ready." Again, Arngeir made it clear that there was to be no more talk on the matter and turned to leave her.

Solene turned towards the fire and sat before it, deep in thought. She still didn't have all of her answers. She had already guessed that the return of the dragons and awakening powers were no coincidence, but what was she to do with this power? What was at work here that they were keeping from her? Why were they so against Ulfric using his Thu'um for his beliefs and then openly express to her that she was not bound by the restrictions of their order? It seemed too convenient.

"Long day?" asked a familiar voice from the threshold. Solene smiled and turned towards Einar. He was no longer wearing the steel plate armor she had made for him in Riverwood, but a pale green colored tunic and dark trousers. He strode into the room and sat opposite her in front of the fire. She was glad he was here. She needed someone she felt she could trust as she navigated this new world of gods and gifts and dragons.

"You could say that. A lot to think on."

"I'm sure. Did you find any answers to your questions?"

"Partially…" she said slowly. She chewed on her lip and questioned whether now was the time to voice her concerns. She glanced at the door and turned back to him. "I don't trust them."

Einar gave a short laugh. "I know they're stuffy and strict, but it's only been the first day. Remember you thought that about me a few weeks ago."

"I did not!" she cried indignantly.

"Don't lie, Dragonborn. It is unbecoming of you," he said with a smirk.

"Alright, fine, but don't call me that."

"Why? I thought you'd enjoy being addressed by your new title."

"It's not a title. It's what I am. It's not who I am though. It's like me calling you Stormcloak. It's impersonal and cold. I'd rather you address me by my name. That's who I am."

"As you wish, Solene." Solene had to turn her gaze to the fire and away from his bright blue eyes to think. He had called her by her name many times before, but this time felt different. She fought hard to suppress the shudder at her name from his lips. What had changed? She reluctantly shifted her gaze back to him to see a wicked smirk on his face. _He did it on purpose! _He was trying to unravel her and she couldn't figure out why he would play games like that. Solene pouted, trying to remember her train of thought before he derailed her.

"So the Greybeards. Why don't you like them?" he asked returning her to her thoughts.

"It's not that I don't like them. I am grateful for what they are showing me and teaching me. It's just that I know they're keeping things from me. Arngeir dodges it by telling me that I will learn in time, but I don't like it. Their teachings hold them to the strict use of their Voices only for worship, but they openly train me knowing that I will use it against the dragons. Is that what they want? What happened to peace and worship? I just don't understand it all yet."

"Well, just remember, if it gets to be too much, we can always leave."

Solene nodded slowly. "We will soon, but not yet. There are still too many questions that I know they can answer."

Einar sat with her for several silent minutes before patting her knee. "Get some rest. I'm sure they will rouse you in the early hours. They are after all monks. Incredibly powerful monks that could probably obliterate me with a word, but monks nonetheless."

Solene gave a soft chuckle and let him go, before remembered something that occurred earlier in the day. "Einar," she called. He turned at the threshold and waited. She stood and dusted off her armor. "Why are you here?"

It was clear that he was not prepared for her question. His features laced with concern. His lips pulled together in a thoughtful frown and his brow scrunched together, pulling the bridge of his nose together in thought. "What do you mean?"

"Before you always referred to this quest as your duty to Ulfric and to me as your mission. Today with the Greybeards, you referred to it as a duty to me. Why did you do this? Were you just saying what you thought they'd want to hear so you could stay?"

Realization dawned on his face and he stepped back into the room to sit in front of her again. "Yes, you are my mission and I promised to see you safely to Windhelm, but that doesn't make you my ward or my prisoner. That puts _me_ in your service until you make it to Ulfric. He seemed to have a sense that it would take you some time to make your way to Windhelm. While my duty is to my Jarl, it is also to you. At least until you find refuge in the city."

Solene felt comfort and pain at his words. That did not answer her question the way she had wanted. He had acted so overbearing and demanding in the beginning and now suddenly he was telling her that he was bound to her service? Something clicked in her head suddenly and a smirk came to her lips. "So that means you have to do what I say?"

Einar chuckled and shook his head. "Sometimes I forget how young you actually are."

Solene was caught off guard by his remark and anger flared in her again. "I am not a child!"

"I never said you were," he replied with the same smile. "It's just that sometimes you seem so burdened and thoughtful like well-traveled warrior and then you do something like that to remind me that you are still a youthful girl who should be carefree and not burdened with legends and war."

"But I am nonetheless…" she muttered, feeling the cage of fate close in on her.

Einar's smile faded and he sat up straight and reached out for her knee again. "Solene," he called to bring her out of her thoughts. "Even though you feel stuck with this burden, don't forget who you are. You are still the young Nord girl from Bruma. Don't lose her."

Solene's gaze slipped back to the floor. Einar almost missed the whisper. "What... what if I didn't like that girl?"

"I know you've grown and become stronger, but you can't just turn your back on what you came from," he offered in comfort.

"Oh, but I should," she replied, voice taut with sadness. A single tear slipped down her cheek as she delved into her story. "I wasn't even born when the White-Gold Concordat was signed. I was born into a world where the worship of Talos was banned. The Imperial soldiers came to Bruma under the orders of the Dominion and they sacked the Temple of Talos. He was the patron saint of our city. I can only guess that the response to the bans were similar in Skyrim as they were in Bruma. I was born into fear. Every season, someone was dragged out of their home by the Thalmor; middle of the night, middle of the day, it didn't matter. If they were accused of worshipping Talos, they were dragged out in front of their families and neighbors, thrown into the back of a carriage and never seen from again.

"But even then, my hatred for the Thalmor was fake, a child's game at hate and disobedience. Frotti and I always watched as our neighbors were taken away and swore that we'd fight back and never get taken. We planned out how we would struggle and escape and meet again outside of town and flee to Skyrim where true Nords still fought to worship their patron god and ancestor. We romanticized becoming martyrs for the cause. A cause that has been made all too real to me in recent weeks.

"To me, it had always been a game. It felt good to hate the Thalmor, but then when I went home I went back to becoming an Imperial. My parents had forsaken Talos and for what? To secure our place in an Empire that abandoned us as Nords. I happily accepted an arranged marriage into a wealthy Imperial family from Chorral and imagined a life of comfort, free from want or fear. Then when the day came, I'd continue my childish games with Frotti. But it wasn't a game to her. Her grandmother and mother were both priestesses to Talos. To her, it was a true oppression."

Solene took a deep shuddering breath. "Then they came for her. I had no idea she was planning in secret, spreading the teachings of Talos in the night. While I dreamed of a life in submission to the Empire, she dreamed of freedom from it. Like always I watched from the sidelines. True, I felt scared, but we had a plan. We'd discussed it over and over. But there she was, walking to the wagon, head bowed and submissive. I was so angry with her. Hoping it was a ploy, I ran to the outskirts of the city and waited. She didn't come. I watched as the wagons continued on down the road towards the Imperial City and I felt so betrayed."

She stopped to take another breath, tears forming freely. Einar sat and listened patiently, not making a move to comfort her. He knew she needed to say everything she had been holding in. "_I_ felt betrayed by _her_. I found out when I returned to the city that her mother had been murdered by the Thalmor when they tried to resist. Right at their breakfast table. And _I _felt betrayed. I, who was just a fake playing at being a Nord, and a Nord from a strong family line, too. We turned our backs on our race and for what? A secure place in a fake Empire trying to pass itself off as the Empire which built itself up on the backs of Nords. No, I _should_ turn my back on who I was. You would. Ulfric would. I am ashamed of that girl."

Solene swallowed the lump in her throat. Einar reached out to comfort her, but she shook her head. "That wasn't my only crime. After I heard about what happened to Frotti, I ran from the city and stole a horse from the stables. Right in the middle of the afternoon, but I didn't care for consequences. I was still a child playing at war. A child seeking forgiveness for her stupidity. I raced after the wagons. I could still see them working down the slopes as I raced on. As I got close to them I jumped off my horse and spurred it to continue on down the road. The riderless horse had them confused for a few moments, and they sent out a scout to find me. I continued into the woods on foot, following them from cover. I threw stones at them and taunted them from hiding, forcing them to come find me in the woods. I led them off and returned to the wagons. There was a single guard left. I jumped on his back and wrestled with him in the dirt. I shouted at Frotti to run. To meet us met again at our spot. She was shocked at first, but she finally fled. I got free from the guard and ran in the opposite direction. I picked my way through the woods, hearing the shouts of Imperial soldiers and Thalmor. They were searching for us.

"When I finally made my way back towards Bruma and our secret spot it was dark. I approached slowly. I didn't see anyone waiting there so I called out in a whisper. I called out for her again and again until I stumbled in the dark. When I regained my footing, I realized that I stumbled over Frotti's body. They caught up to her and they killed her on the spot and left her body to the wilderness. I could still hear soldiers looking for me so I snuck back into Bruma to find my parent's shop being ransacked looking for me. I waited up on the roof of the Temple until they had left, leaving my parents in the street after they destroyed and looted their shop. We had to leave that night. I mourned for Frotti, but still the gravity of my actions had not really hit me. I felt excited to leave Cyrodiil, to return to my homeland. How could I have been excited when I am a walking traitor to everything you stand for? I am honestly terrified of going to Windhelm before I prove my worth. I am terrified you will see me for what I am – a fake and a traitor – and turn your backs on me. Then I will be truly alone."

Solene wept silently as Einar sat thoughtfully taking in all of her story. Solene sat in tortured silence imagining all the things that he must have been thinking about her. Her tears fell quicker and the tension in her chest finally snapped as she let her body break into shuddering sobs. She had told her truth and now she was alone. She didn't expect the warm arms to embrace her and so she clutched to the back of his tunic and cried harder into his shoulder.

"You're not alone," he whispered gently and repeated as he held her until her body stopped shuddering in grief and her eyes dried.


	6. Chapter 6: Hahnu se aan Dovahsesil

**a/n: I left my laptop at work so I did this whole chapter on my phone and iPad. This is a short but important chapter. Thanks again to everyone for reading. **

It has been a week since coming to High Hrothgar and Solene was learning at a quick pace. The Greybeards taught her new Words of Power and trained her in their uses. As promised, Arngeir taught her more of their order and about Jurgen Windcaller, the founder of the Way of the Voice. Solene also learned that High Hrothgar was home five Greybeards and not four. Bolli, Arngeir, Einarth, and Wulfgar stayed in the main monastery while their leader Paarthurnax camped out at the peak of the Throat of the World. Arngeir had promised that once she was truly ready, she would meet him.

Every day she would train and learn to meditate on the Words and every night she would return to her room where Einar would sit cross-legged on the furs before the fire and listen while she recounted all she had learned to him. Solene had come to trust and rely on him a great deal in the weeks since their journey began. She felt that this experience was bringing them closer and was slowly chipping away at her wall of fears concerning her flight to Skyrim. However, Einar felt differently. He felt that as each day passed, Solene grew farther and farther away. The cloak of destiny hung heavily on her shoulders and with each passing day she grew more accustomed to its burden. He was beginning to see in her the seeds of legend which would propel her name into the histories with Alessia - the bane of the Ayleids, Talos - the Hero God of Man, Ysgramor - the Father of the Companions, and Sigdis the Heroine of Kvatch and Savior of Bruma.

It was hard for him to imagine that just a few weeks ago Solene was a shy, uncoordinated girl whose only true gift was smithing. He had waited two days in Riverwood for her to return from her latest quest to earn favor of the people in that tiny village. Ralof found it endearing but Einar could see it for what it was - a desperate attempt at finding her own value and self worth. It was childish and when she finally returned he was convinced that the Jarl had made a mistake in seeking her for his court and that he would come to regret her presence and in turn Einar for bringing her. His first mission would be marked with failure and not by any fault of his own. It was frustrating and he just wanted to get it over with as soon as possible so he could get back to being a soldier and not some glorified errand boy.

Things only got worse when they got to Whiterun. She spent another week seeking favor by helping around the city. She had even gone as far as trying to convince him to help free a Stormcloak sympathizer being held in a fort to the Northwest. After telling the Nord's brother that he was stuck freeing him on his own, Solene refused to speak to him for an entire day. During that day she took odd jobs at War Maiden's, the Skyforge, the temple and the inn and Einar knew she was attempting to irritate him. Finally he had given in and just started teasing her relentlessly for it. At first she was offended and upset by it and it gave him a secret pleasure to be able to get under her skin, but eventually she would just smile and shrug. It wasn't long after that she started talking to him again and he had found himself relieved. He was surprised by this turn he had taken and a little upset by it too. He needed to get her back to Ulfric before things got complicated. Until then he promised himself that he would only do what was necessary to keep her safe and nothing more. Then she was revealed to be Dragonborn and his simple fetch mission became a lot more.

Looking back now he could understand why she so desperately sought approval. She was convinced that soon her true colors as a fake Nord would show and the true Nords of Skyrim would turn their backs on her. Looking back he found those actions were, like Ralof, endearing. He could see now that he had fallen into a trap even then. He didn't mind it at first, except now he truly did feel like a simple soldier bound to the service of one much greater than he. Her name would be remembered and the subject of poetry and song. He was nothing more than a soldier in a greater man's war. His name would fade in the changing of the seasons and the passing of the tides.

Solene was more than an oafish girl seeking attention. She had become a skilled fighter and a reflective scholar. But what's more, she was Dragonborn. She had the blood of the dragon in her veins. The blood of power, of kings and emperors, whose very presence brought change in their wake. The last known Dragonborn was Martin Septim at the close of the Third Era. He and Sigdis together stopped the Oblivion Crisis and pushed Mehrunes Dagon himself back into the realm of Oblivion and sealed the gates forever. This is what she came from and what she would become. This was his charge. What made matters worse was that Solene was progressing at such a rate that she would no longer need the Greybeards and her next stop would be Windhelm and his mission would end as would his service her.

"A septim for your thoughts?" interrupted Solene, pulling Einar from his contemplations. She had long since stopped talking and watched him in silence with an amused countenance.

Einar's face did not betray his thoughts as he took a deep breath and considered her question. "I was thinking..." He began, slowly and calmly deciding on a portion of the truth. "That you will be done here soon and we will be in Windhelm probably within the week."

Solent frowned slightly. After all those nights he happily reveled with her in her successes it was still all because of his mission. She thought he had started to care for her and see who she truly was and still he had stuck around. Is he too bound by his mission to turn his back from her in disgust after what she had revealed? Is he just waiting to be rid of her so that he may run from her? She couldn't have been imagining things. She wouldn't have put so much trust in him if he was still just treating her as a mission. He wasn't. She was sure of it. She just needed more time. Then perhaps she could go to Windhelm and he wouldn't want to be rid of her. "Well..." she began to suggest, but she stopped. We don't have to go to Windhelm right away. She couldn't say it. She didn't know if he'd be angry still by the delay, and what's more he would ask her why and she couldn't explain yet. She had fallen silent and her gaze slipped down to the snow saber pelt beneath her.

Einar shifted uncomfortably at the look on her face. He could hide his thoughts behind a carefully guarded countenance. He had to as a soldier, but Solene was still a merchant's daughter and a young woman. He could always read her thoughts in her eyes. Now they stormed with painful questions and thoughts that darted back and forth. Her eyes were unsettled and it put a darkness to the whole room. "Solene what is it?" He asked softly, reaching out a hand to rest on hers.

Her eyes flew up to his seemingly surprised that he was there. He chuckled inwardly. How easily she gets lost in reflection. "I..." She paused and reflected, carefully considering her words. "I'm not ready," she whispered, testing the words.

"What do you mean? You've been growing and learning at an astonisishing rate."

Solene shook her head. "It isn't that. I just don't know if I'm ready to see Ulfric yet."

"Is this about your fear of being turned away? Solene, look at all he is going through to bring you safely to Windhelm. He isn't going to turn his back to you. Besides, you've done more for the Nords of Skyrim than some of its oldest, most powerful citizens have done in their entire lives. You cared and you reached out. They loved you, why not Ulfric? He does the same. He fights this war for them. Some love him for it and some do not understand yet. They are afraid of the Empire and have lost their culture of strength and history of freedom under the Empire's rule. Don't you see? Skyrim is filled with Nords just like you. You just didn't understand it yet. You didn't see. You do now, don't you?" he asked gently cupping her cheek in comfort.

She jumped a little as his thumb wiped across her wet cheek. She did not realize she had been crying. She couldn't help herself, didn't want to help herself, and leaned into his hand with a soft sigh. "I do." She opened her eyes and looked at Einar. The sharp curves of his face looked so much more severe in the flickering flrelight, but his eyes softened his face considerably. The steel wall around his thoughts had slipped down for a moment and she could see a softness inside his thoughts. "Thank you, Einar," she whispered, breathing his name. She saw something flicker across his gaze and it emboldened her. She closed her eyes again and pressed her cheek into his palm. He hadn't moved his hand yet and she didn't want him to anytime soon. She gently placed her own hand over his, curling her fingers beneath his. "I still don't wish to go to Windhelm just yet," she added softly, but with confidence now.

Einar made no move to take back his hand. Instead his thumb caressed her cheek again and ran in a circle around her face, close to her lips before retreating back to its original resting place below her cheekbone. "Why?" he asked with a gentle kindness lacing his voice to urge her to divulge her thoughts.

Solene couldn't give him that yet. "There's too much that I still want to see and do," she offered. Her voice and her eyes betrayed her. The tone of her voice had changed and no longer carried the softness it had while she lingered in the moment with him before. Her words were empty.

Einar chuckled. "Liar," he accused jovially, picking up on the signs as she had. Solene sighed and felt a pressure against her eyes as they shimmered. She knew they were tears of desperation and fear. Einar's smile broke and he cupped her face with both hands. "Solene, what is it?"

She shivered at the way he whispered her name, but she just looked down. He held her face firmly wiping against her eyelids forcing her tears to spill out onto his hands. "Don't make me say it," she said, her voice and body shaking.

Einar pressed against her checks lifting her head to look at him. The softness was still in his gaze and he stared into her face for a long time, his eyes searching hers. His eyes masked with something else. Uncertainty? He leaned forward, slowly, haltingly. He was hesitating. Then his eyes fixed with a steeled resolve, but it wasn't like before, Solene knew. This steel in his gaze was tempered by something much softer. Instead of hiding everything, this gaze told her all she needed to know.

Einar moved more assuredly now, his hands sliding from her cheeks behind to the back of her neck, and leaned forward fluidly - slow, but fluid.

"Ahe-e-em" came the sound of a voice clearing. Einar let go of Solene and sat up straight, looking behind her to the door. The steel wall came back up and she could no longer read his eyes. Solene let out the shuddering breath that she had been holding and turned to Master Arngeir at the door. "Dragonborn, it is admirable for you to seek kinship during your respite, but remember child, balance in all things. It is time to rest." Einar sighed and rose to his feet and stalked out the door. Solene returned her gaze to the pelt. "Rest now, child," he finally said resolutely and followed Einar out, closing the door behind him. How she hated him calling her child.

* * *

Solene did find rest that night, but she was plagued by a haunting dream.

She was surrounded in a heavy darkness. It pressed against her, threatened to suffocate her. She had to get out, claw her way out, and claw she did. Finally light surrounded her and she breathed again as she rose from the ground, stones and soil rolling off her shoulders. She felt new, different somehow. The muscles in her back flexed and extended, but these muscles were foreign to her. They felt strange and heavy. She extended those muscles again and watched in horror as her shadow betrayed her sense of self. Before her sat a shadow beast, large and daunting and with her effort, large wings extended from her back.

A shadow swept above her. "Rise, Mirmulnir, from your long rest for we are eternal," commanded the dragon circling above her. The dragon was the color of pitch and incredibly familiar. Solene recognized this dragon as the one from Helgen. Instantly his name seemed to come to her - Alduin. She remembered the name from her father's stories of their Nordic past. Alduin, the World Eater, was once worshiped as a god by the ancient Nords. His realm consisted of both Mundus and Aetherius and it was prophesied that at the end of time he would devour both. This is who stood before her now, called her by a different name, a name she knew deep within herself. Mirmulnir. It took her some time to grasp at the name in her mind. This name had become a part of her when she absorbed the dragon's soul.

"I have returned to you at last. Shake off your long rest. Rise and join me in feasting once again upon those rebellious humans and the traitor Paarthurnax. I will wake the others. Go! Feast on mortal flesh!" The air became still and charged around her. She knew what was next. Alduin and Mirmulnir both raised their heads and fire burst forth in their mutual anger.


	7. Chapter 7: Alessia and Morihaus

**A/N: I left my laptop at work so I had to do these last two chapters on my phone :( Vacation is ending so posts wont come every day.**

Arngeir woke Solene early and summoned her to the great hall. There, the three other monks waited. Einar sat on a bench at the side of the room. Solene knew he was watching her but she did not dare a glance towards him, not yet. In any case, Arngeir was quick to pull her attention to the Greybeards. "Dragonborn, you have done well in your trials and there is just one more for you to complete before we can address you officially as Dragonborn and welcome you to High Hrothgar. You must go to Ustengrav, the final resting place of the founder of our order and retrieve Jurgen Windcaller's Horn. Only one, skilled in the Voice may reach the depth of his tomb and this shall be your last test. You may take your companion and set out immediately."

"Yes, Master Arngeir," she replied softly. She tried to sound confident in their presence but all she could think of was last night and his interruption. She felt like a guilty child under the scrutiny of a parent. She turned and found that Einar had stood and was ready to leave. He nodded and walked out before her.

They made it some distance from the monastery before Einar turned to face her. "I apologize for my actions last night. I crossed a line and it was wrong of me." He bowed his head slightly in courtesy then looked back up to her.

Solene tried searching his gaze, but his eyes showed nothing. Did he regret what had happened? Did he actually have feelings for her or was it all just in the name of comfort? Or was is worse? Had he tried to take advantage of her? Would she have let him? Did Arngeir say something to him? His eyes had told her so much last night, but now they didn't betray a single thought. Which was the true Einar? Despite all those questions she needed him right now. Something else troubled her more than last night.

"Look, last night and explanations can wait. I actually needed to talk to you away from the monastery."

Einar couldn't mask the concern. "What has happened? Why the secrecy from the Greybeards?" Deep down, he had hoped her trust in them was dwindling fast. Last night Arngeir had threatened to send him back to Windhelm if he didn't cease distracting the Dragonborn from her purpose. He was quick to remind him that she was a child of destiny and he was nothing. His interference in her life would only further confuse her troubled heart and would surely lead to her demise. Einar had wanted to argue, but his words cut deep and he had to mirrored his own insecurities. He had spent the rest of the night waging a war within himself trying to justify keeping Solene close, of making her his. Every battle ended with Arngeir's words twisting the final blow deep into his heart. His dreams were plagued with visions of all the trials they would go through if they ran away from all of this, from her destiny. Running only ended with her death. He couldn't do this to her. He couldn't selfishly lead her astray and block her from what she was meant for. He should have listened to himself in Whiterun. He had to closely guard himself around her until they got to Windhelm. Luckily, this mission was to end soon. After her final trial she would be free to return to Windhelm with him. He just needed to get through the next few days. Einar was shocked that Arngeir had allowed for him to accompany her on this task, but Ustengrav was far away, just outside Morthal. It would be a long trip and a potentially dangerous one at that.

Solene began to descend the steps, Einar keeping her pace. "I had a dream last night. There were many things in it which puzzled me. I dreamt that I was a dragon and a black dragon had risen me from my long forgotten grave. I recognized both the dragon and the name he called me. He called me Mirmulnir. I know it well for that name became a part of me after Whiterun," she said glancing over at him.

"The dragon you killed?" Solene nodded. "Could it have been a memory of the soul you absorbed?"

"That is what I believe. But if that is true, then that means the dragons... They're not coming from some distant land to invade us. They are coming back to life. Dragons who have been dead for centuries are being risen from the dead by the one in black. The very same dragon who attacked me at Helgen. The very same dragon whose name I instantly knew from my dreams. It was Alduin. Ralof had called the dragons the bringers of the end times and Alduin also goes by the name of World Eater. Einar what if the legends are true? How many I supposed to fight against the end of the world?"

Einar had wanted to tell her that it was only a dream, but those with the dragon blood were rumored to have a certain foresight in their dreams. He too quickly forgot about their recent troubles and focused on this frightening omen. "Why not tell this to the Greybeards. It sounds as if they would be well qualified to help you determine the meaning of this dream?"

Solene sighed. "The meaning was quite clear. Alduin is raising dragons from the dead to renew the ancient war fought against our ancestors, and I cannot trust the Greybeards because they are hiding something very important from me. Alduin had mentioned his anger towards one particular traitor. He called him by name, Paarthurnax. Who, or what is their grandmaster to have survived centuries? Why do they closely guard him and refuse an audience with even the Dragonborn whom they claim to serve? There are too many secrets."

Einar too was troubled by this. Nothing mortal would survive all that time. There are legends of certain creatures who could survive all those eras of mer, but none of them seemed like the type to align themselves with pacifist monks like the Greybeards. "Maybe... Maybe it's a title? Or he is but a number of the same name..." He trailed off after Solene gave him a withering look.

"That wasn't the whole dream. After the two dragons, I felt myself take flight. I wasn't Mirmulnir anymore because I saw him left behind as I was pulled out of his body. I landed again in a grassy field before a statue of myself. In one hand I held a thin long sword the likes of which I have never constructed of even seen and in the other a cloven horn. Next to my statue were two banners, one blue with the sigil of the bear and one black with the sigil of the dragon. Both caught fire and burned together. Then I woke. All these secrets, all these hidden meanings. They trouble me, Einar."

Einar's chest tightened at her words and the memory of Arngeir's warning to stop interfering with her troubled heart. He was at a loss for what to do. He knew she was falling into the trap just as he, but for her that could mean more than heartbreak. He would have to help her but tread carefully to not cross that line once again. He looked on her with kind but guarded eyes. "I am certain that the banners represent Windhelm and the Empire, but what everything else meant I do no know. We'll figure out the meaning of all these visions. I promise. Until then all we can do is follow the leads we are offered," he said crossing the bridge into Ivarstead.

She had fallen into thought and he left her to puzzle through her dreams in silence. She followed behind him mute and unresponsive as he picked up supplies for the ride to Morthal and picked up their horses from a nearby farm. He paid the farmer generously for looking over their horses while they remained in a High Hrothgar, and together they travelled back across the bridge south of the village and slowly curved back around north to circumnavigate the massive mountain on their way back into western Skyrim. If they kept a steady pace and didn't tire the horses, they could reach Morthal after nightfall.

He had given her silence during the trip and Solene used it to get her thoughts and feelings in order. She was beginning to distrust the Greybeards more and more. She was certain of one thing. The Paarthurnax who lead their order was the same one that Alduin spoke of, and this Greybeard Grandmaster was not a mer. No mortal lived that long. As the midday sun beat down on them and Whiterun's Dragonsreach loomed to the south, Solene began to consider the questions she had been avoiding.

Einar was quick to call last night a mistake and then quickly fell into business as usual. This did not settle well with Solene and she began to ponder the latter of her questions. She was developing more than just a deep trust for Einar and now she worried that he knew it too and sought to prey on it. Could he be capable of it? When they first met, he was critical, pushy, and mean. Then he teased her relentlessly and going as far to play on her feelings by the way he would address her. Solene had never had her name spoken in that manner by anyone before, not even when Horace Jeaurrant met and courted her. It thrilled her and made her feel both young and old at the same time, made her warm and shiver together. She couldn't bear the thought of being preyed upon. It terrified and angered her. It emboldened her.

"So can we talk about last night now?" she asked glancing over to Einar. He did not look at her, but kept his eyes forward. He didn't even sigh or move to shift or anything. He was an unmoving sentinel. _Unfeeling, too._ She thought.

"I crossed a line and I shouldn't have. There is not much more to talk about," he said resolutely, testing out the tone of the Greybeard on his own tongue. It was not lost on Solene and she was having none if it.

"Don't you pull that on me Einar! That was a tasteless move and you know it. I trusted you more than to play these games."

"I want you to trust that I will keep you safe and support you until we get to Windhelm and that is why I won't play these games."

"Until Windhelm..." Once again she was only a mission.

Einar nodded. "Ulfric is better equipped to train you and explain your dreams than I."

Solene fumed. He had supported her, made her feel accepted when she felt alone, and made her feel things she didn't know she could feel going into an arranged marriage of opportunity. Horace was handsome and wealthy and that made her happy. She felt lucky. But she never felt what she had experienced over the past few weeks at any point in her life living in Cyrodiil. "That was not all you did for me and you know it, you gods damned selfish, backwater barbarian!" she cried drawing upon the slurs that Imperials often used in reference to natives of Skyrim. She spurred her horse on into a sprint and Einar kept pace, albeit at some distance behind.

They made it to Morthal before the sun set on the foggy, murky landscape. They found a place to stable their horses and Solene dismounted in a huff and stalked off for the Moorside Inn while Einar paid the man for his service. He grabbed the supplies off his horse and Solene's forgotten bag still nestled next to her saddle. He sighed and made his way to the inn. He entered to the smell of smoke, dried ale, stale bread, and the must of the outside swamp. An Orc made a noble, but meager attempt at the flute and the inn was empty except for Solene who was now stalking towards him. She slammed a key onto his steel breastplate telling him where his room was and rushed out, saying something about the blacksmith before storming out. The redguard innkeeper gave him a sympathetic look as he took a seat at one of the empty tables.

Solene stormed through the muddy streets heading first back for way they came and looking across the houses spanning a short boardwalk. When she didn't see a forge or sign she stormed the other way towards the lumber mill. She had begun cursing under her breath as she walked. Nothing lucid went through her mind other than to find the forge and thinking up new curses for that big stupid Nord who had toyed with her feelings and made her feel warm and accepted then turned around and made her worst fears a reality. He had turned his back on her. She stopped in the middle of the bridge, leaned against the crumbling stone, wrapped her arms around herself, and had a good cry.

It was dark by the time Solene returned to the inn. She hated the smell of the inn. It smelled disused and more like ale than food. There was also the muddy and fetid water smell that lingered in from the outside.

She had to blink her bleary eyes to see in the dim light. The inn was as empty as it was earlier except for Einar sitting at a table on the opposite wall and a woman she had not seen earlier. She was had pale skin that seemed to glow like silver in the firelight and long brown hair. She sat straddling the bench facing him. Her dress was nothing more than what appeared to be a man's tunic held closed by a corset around her waist. The shirt was held precariously open, the neckline descending and disappearing behind the corset. She laughed and drew circles on his right spaulder with a long, thin finger. Solene's mind couldn't even form a thought as she mechanically made her way to her room near the bar. She slammed her door and collapsed on the furs and buried her face in the small roll that passed as a pillow and cried.

Alva watched as the red-eyed Nord woman stared open-mouthed at her company's back before shuffling off to the bedroom at the other end of the inn. The door slammed behind her and she could hear the loud thud of her body hitting the bed. Einar had followed her gaze and watched Solene slam the door behind her before turning back to his ale with a sigh. "Trouble in paradise?" she asked resuming her previous activity with her fingers.

"There never was a paradise," he said bitterly. He had meant it to mean that he could never have her, but he realized how it had actually sounded and winced.

"Oooh," cooed Alva, scooting closer to him on the bench, the small hem of her 'dress' slipping farther up her thighs. "It seems as though you could use a little excitement too. Morthal is just a dreary, boring place," she whined, leaning against his broad shoulder. "We could both use a little excitement," she purred.

Einar turned to her and shifted away to get out from under her grasp. "Listen..." He stopped at a loss for her name and fished for it in his mind. Had she even told him?

"Alva..." she growled.

Yes. Yes, she did. "Look, Alva. I'm just passing through and I'm on an important journey. You're pretty," he paused. He wasn't going to lie. "No, you're gorgeous, but I just don't have time for this," he said getting up from the bench.

"You pine after her don't you?" she called after him. He stopped and gave her a piercing glare. "Don't you see she's leading you on? She's not even yours and you are tied to her on a short leash like a dog. Don't you see it?" she cooed, leaning forward letting her breasts hang almost freely in the loose dress and draw together into a deep cleavage. "I can free you. With me you would be truly free." She got up and sauntered over to him. "Let me free you," she said in a low, dark voice and grabbed at his pants rubbing her palm against his groin.

Einar jerked away and stumbled back nearly falling into the fire pit behind him. He merely stared at her, shook his head and stalked to his room next to the girl's and slammed the door. She heard the bolt slide shut before the slow creak of the bed. She winked at the bewildered redguard behind the counter and sauntered off to find Hroggar.

Einar laid on his back and looked up at the steepled ceiling. The wall connecting to the room next to him, Solene's room, did not fully reach the ceiling and he could clearly hear her muffled weeping. He stayed that way for hours and listened to her cry until it died down into soft whimpers and worried muttering and he knew she had fallen asleep finally. It was then that he finally allowed himself to sleep. Listening to her cry almost broke his resolve, but it was to be his punishment for letting things get out of hand. His job was to his Jarl and he threatened to betray both Ulfric and Solene by keeping her from her destiny and even Windhelm in his growing fantasy to run with her. What was worse was that if Solene's dreams were accurate, he would also be betraying the world by taking her away from her fight against Alduin.

Einar turned violently onto his side. Alduin? How could he let her face the World Eater? Destiny and dragon blood be damned; she was still a young woman, still a girl by most accounts. None of this was fair. She lost her family fleeing for freedom, was nearly executed for no reason and then old pacifists plan to send her to battle against the king of dragons by herself? Tamriel has been ruled by old men selfishly sending their sons and daughters to fight their battles for them. Even in Skyrim. This is why he fought for the Stormcloaks. But he would give all of that up if he could just take her away from all of that and keep her safe, truly safe. But he couldn't. He was a simple man in the service in a walking legend and he made things worse by letting himself develop feelings for her and then exacerbating the situation by letting her develop her own, confusing her and making the difficult task before her all the more troubling. No. He wasn't done being punished yet. He just wished she didn't have to be punished too.

* * *

Solene awoke the next morning when the dim sunlight shining through murky windows high up on the wall fell across her face. Her cheeks burned and her eye lids felt swollen from her crying. She rubbed her eyes and sat on her bed. She looked at the window. If the sun had risen that high then that meant she had slept in. She rushed out into the main room and turned toward's Einar's room. The door was open and the bed looked like it hadn't even been slept in. Solene remember last night and she fought back more angry tears. She quickly approached the counter and slapped her key on the surface and ten gold septims and turned to leave as quickly as she could. She wouldn't go find the coward. She planned to leave him here and get the horn herself. The innkeeper called after her. "Hey wait! You're debt was already settled!" She had started to round the corner of the bar to chase after her when Solene turned. The redguard approached her and gave her the gold back. Your companion left early this morning, paid for the rooms and said to tell you he was going to get the horses ready and meet you at the apothecary."

Solene had let a single tear drop in surprise before she dried her eyes, feeling foolish. "Thank you," she said kindly, taking her money back. She walked outside and sure enough their horses were grazing through the muddy weeds while he sat on the snowy porch eating an apple. Her black horse had made his way over to him and nudged his shoulder several times before he gave up in a huff and gave him the rest of his apple. Solene approached slowly and he caught sight of her, getting up before she reached him.

"We're ready to go when you are."

She couldn't bring herself to smile at him just yet so she just took her horse's reigns and asked him, "How far is Ustengrav?"

"Not more than a fifteen minute ride through the swamp."

"If it's so close, why do we need horses?"

"Because it's a ride through the swamp," he repeated. "I don't feel like getting my boots wet and I can't imagine how you'd feel in wet leather."

"Oh," she sounded, embarrassed. She hadn't really been listening at all. She was stuck in her head asking herself how she could get through this journey with him after yesterday. She mounted her horse and waited for him to do the same and lead her out of town.

Solene was glad they had taken horses. It was a short ride, but there was no clear path once they got out of town and the ground gave way to murky water in various places. The horses didn't seem to mind and the water never seemed to reach too high. Then she saw it, a burial mound which she assumed would mark the entrance to the tomb rising up on the hill before them. They cleared the water and Einar stopped and dismounted. He took his horse by the reigns and walked him up the hill. Solene followed and caught up with him.

He pointed to the smoke rising a little behind the mound. "There's a small camp set up over there," he whispered. "We should approach cautiously." To their relief, no one was currently occupying the camp, but that only meant that they would most likely run into them in the tomb.

They turned from the camp and made their way down the steps. Solene abruptly stopped and they found a dead redguard at the base of the steps. Solene stayed at the top while Einar descended and examined the body.

He had to turn him over and lift him slightly to get into the corpse's things. He sifted through the bag for any idea of the dead man's purpose then finally he dropped the man with a sigh. "Judging by the lock picks, alcohol and jewelry in his bag, I'm pretty sure he was a bandit."

"Well no real loss then," she half joked coming down the steps. When she reached the body, Einar offered his hand to help her jump over it, instead she opted to just jump off the side of the steps and made her way for the door bypassing him completely. "Be careful Solene. Something killed him."

"Then we'll kill it," she countered. Solene felt like she was in the killing mood.

When they stepped into the tomb, bodies of the freshly dead littered the steps leading down into a large cavern where they quickly found the source of the carnage. Bandits and necromancers were battling against each other. Solene and Einar stayed back and waited to see how the battle would play out.

It quickly came down to two necromancers against one bandit, but he had managed to take down the altmer necromage with him before he was cut down by the dark elf. Solene nocked an arrow and waited for her to clear the pillar for a better shot before she released her arrow and the woman fell with little more than a grunt.

Einar stepped out from behind the pillar looking impressed. "Nice shot." Solene wasn't in the mood to accept compliments yet either so she continued on. As they got deeper, bandit bodies were replaced by necromancers.

Solene heard a familiar sound followed by shouts and she let out a groan. "Draugrs. Can we wait and pick off the winner again? I hate draugrs."

"You know if the necromancers win they'll just raise them all back up again," he countered.

Solene let out a loud sigh and nocked another arrow and snuck around the corner where two necromancers fought against three draugr. She decided to even the odds first - mostly because she loathed those undead creatures - and shot an arrow through the skull of one of the draugrs. Both parties were now alerted to their presence and a necromancer turned towards them. Solene kept picking off the busy draugr while Einar intercepted the advancing necromancer. He held up his shield against the mage's frostbite spell, advancing slowly. When he got close enough, he bashed his shield into the mage and when he stumbled back, Einar lunged his sword through his chest. He was quick to approach the second, more battered mage and run his sword through his back. By this time there was one draugr left, weakened by the arrow sticking out of its chest and again Einar shield bashed his target. This time the draugr fell to the ground and he used the opportunity to slam the side of his shield against its neck severing its head.

After having gone through two battles unscathed, Solene felt proud of herself and exhilarated. She felt her frustrations become less and less. Enough so that she could return Einar's earlier compliment. "Nice job."

"Thanks."

It was a sliver of civility, but at least they weren't fighting anymore. For that, she was grateful. They continued on finding that there were no more necromancers or bandits but the seldom draugr or walking skeleton. They came to a cavernous room that elicited a gasp from both of them. Many levels of bridges and architecture gave way to a waterfall at the bottom. Einar held her back as she leaned over the edge.

"There's a Word Wall down there. Maybe I can learn a new shout." Before heading down into the cavern, Solene pulled out her bow and shot several shots into the walkways and paths. The soft thunk sound of the arrow reverberated back to her and she waited. Nothing moved to investigate her shots so she proceeded.

They had only encountered a few enemies and they were easy to pick off. Solene was beginning to wonder why only one trained in the Voice could retrieve the horn when the journey so far was fairly simple. Then she stepped onto a tile with a dark patterned center and as it gave way beneath her she gasped.

"Solene!" cried Einar as fire shot up from the tile. He rushed forward and tackled a screaming Solene to the ground on the other side of the tiles. Solene rolled over the ground while Einar pulled out his bear pelt cloak and draped it over her. When the fires had gone, Solene curled into a ball and whimpered. Einar gathered her up into his arms and pulled two potions from his bag. "Shhh. Shhh. It's okay. Here, drink this." He put the first bottle to her lips and tilted her head back as she drank it down. He pulled it back before it was empty and added the second bottle of a flame salve to the potion and had her drink the whole bottle down. He then continued to hold her and rock her as the burns faded into angry red marks. "Better?" he asked, rubbing a red spot over the top of her hand.

She nodded and looked up at him. Her head was still resting against his chest. Red marks dotted her face, her incredibly close face and parched lips. Einar let out a breath and pulled her from his chest. "Come on," he said softly. "I saw some water down at the bottom of the cavern."

They moved at a much slower pace, Solene's confidence shot. They wandered through the side caverns and across bridges both man-made and natural. There was no sight or sound of any more enemies as they descended into the cavern. They finally came to the pool of water and Einar left her to fill one of their empty bottles with the cool liquid.

Solene's attentions were pulled elsewhere. The wall called to her, pulled her much like the one in Bleak Falls. She made her way to the wall, her hand reaching out to touch the words. The word finally formed in her mind and this time she knew the meaning. She felt power rush through her again, and then she felt pain.

She gasped and looked down to see an old Nordic arrowhead jutting out of her shoulder. She turned and deliriously readied her bow. Einar turned his attention to her and made his way to her with a start when another arrow sailed past them and hit against the stone wall and fell to the ground.

He turned and examined the cavern. "On the upper level! Skeleton archers!" He shouted. She didn't need to be told. She already saw them. She released an arrow and it lodged into the rib cage of one, the force knocking the skeletal body to pieces, some of it falling down into the cavern. She reached back for another arrow, crying out at the pain searing through her shoulder. Even stretching back the bowstring proved too much and her arrow missed its mark, falling short from lack of strength.

She rolled off the platform and into the shallow pool of water to avoid more arrows but the movement jostled the arrow piercing through her and the pain kept her from springing back onto her feet. She kneeled in the middle of the pool gasping. She finally found the strength to get back to her feet. She had to act fast. She took in a deep breath and repeated the first word that came to her. The word she had just learned. As the shout came to her lips she felt like the wind left her as a searing pain pierced her gut. "FEIM!" she managed to utter. Her body faded from the physical plain as she fell backwards into the waterfall dropping her bow. Her body floated through the pool and was forced under as the waterfall coursed over her. She finally resurfaced and her gaze looked upon stone instead of the sky that poured through the top of the cavern.

Einar had battled his way back up the ramp fighting off skeletons wielding swords and axes. He finally made his way to the natural bridge spanning across the width of the cavern where the last remaining skeletal archer stood bow at the ready and attention still turned towards Solene. He let out a battle cry knowing it would be no use. The undead felt no fear. But he was desperate, and he was too late. The arrow flew and he watched it bury itself into Solene's abdoman before she let out a shout. Her body faded and he could only see a pale blue sillhoutte fall into the water before he turned back on the skeleton, rushing into it and ramming it off the bridge. It fell below and upon impact shattered into pieces.

Einar sprinted down the ramp, jumping down the rest of the way when it was safe to do so. He waded into the pool and looked through the water frantically searching for her body or the pale blue outline of it. He felt around on the bottom of the pool for her. As he made his way towards the waterfall he lost his footing on the mossy ground and slid under the waterfall. The force of it pushed him down disorienting him and when he felt ground beneath his feet and pushed, springing up into chest high water. He found himself in a secret cavern behind the waterfall where Solene floated on her back, no longer in a ghostly form except for the pallor of her face.

"No!" He sloshed through the water his hurry. He picked her up and held her against his chest. "No, no, no!" He clarified her towards the steps of a platform in the small hidden cavern behind the waterfall and knelt down with her still in his arms.

He snapped the arrowhead off of the arrow in her shoulder and grabbed the shaft behind her to pull it out of her back then laid her down. She still looked up at him with glazed eyes that seemed to not really see him at all. He was horrible at restoration magic. He was forced to learn a basic self restoration spell as well as healing hands when he became a soldier. He prayed it was enough now. He used it on her shoulder, holding both sides with each hand. He fatigued quickly and released the spell, panting.

He examined the wound and it looked less severe so he wrapped it quickly and turned towards her stomach. He barely touched the shaft when she groaned and reached her hands for the arrow. Einar intercepted her reach and grabbed her hands in his. "It's okay. I need to break it and pull out the arrowhead." He let go of her hands and grabbed the shaft with both of his. He held the base of the shaft where it stuck out of her stomach firm while he quickly snapped the ancient wood in half.

Solene cried out and reached for the wound again. He grabbed both her hands in his large ones and transferred them both to one hand. "Just squeeze when it hurts," he offered. It didn't help. She tried to weakly pull her hands from his in a panic, but he held them tight. He took a deep breath and plunged his fingers into wound to pull out the rest of the arrow. She screamed and squirmed and he had to let go of her hands and hold her other shoulder down with his free hand. She fought against him and hit him with her now free hands.

He looked back into her eyes to see a delirious fear. When she pulled through, he was certain she wouldn't remember this moment. _If_ she pulled through. He found the hard stone of the ancient arrowhead and pinched it between his fingers and thumb and pulled it out. Her arching back collapsed back to the ground and she became still, consciousness leaving her.

He used healing hands on her stomach and again it quickly drained him. It wasn't good enough for when he removed his hand, blood still pooled from the wound. He tried again, fatiguing quicker, but this time having at least stemmed the blood flow. He waited a little longer to collect his energies and repeated the spell. With each casting he was able to heal the wound a little more.

He finally fell back, utterly exhausted. He only had to wait now and see. When she would awaken he could get her a potion which would return her energy and help with the healing. He just had to wait...

He never felt more stupid in his life. He spent a week agonizing over her training and imagining her as a legend. He began to see her as this unattainable invincible hero of old. She was still a mortal, much like those heroes he worshiped. How could he be so selfish, dwelling on his own dwindling confidence and not see her needs. Yes, she had come a long way and was becoming very skilled, but she was still capable of bleeding, just like him, and she still had a daunting destiny before her. How could he have even thought of leaving her. Did not Alessia have her Morihaus? Could not Solene have her Einar?

Einar sat for hours drifting between states of conciousness. When he found rest, it wasn't for long as the anxiety crept even into his dreams. For the first hour he fawned over her, checking her breathing, redressing her wounds. For the second, he barated himself for being such a glorious ass the day before. For the first half the the third hour he slept before being roused with a start and he checked up on Solene again. Einar lost track of time in that cave, but slowly, color came back to her cheeks and she began to shiver from the damp cold.

Einar peeled off the layers of plate mail down to his tunic and trousers and spread out on the ground next to her. He gently moved her onto her side and slid into her, her back pressing into his chest. He could feel her warmth and it gave him some small comfort. He wrapped his arm around her side protectively and finally he was able to find sleep.


	8. Chapter 8: The Horn

**A/N: Again, just a warning that posts wont come as fast anymore as my vacation is over. I do however, have my laptop back so no more messy phone chapters. Yay. Thanks again to SpiritOfJazz for your constructive and uplifting reviews. I hope this little nugget will be enough to tide some of you over while the story grows and develops.**

Einar was awakened by a strange sensation on his arm. He had dreamt that he killed a frostbite spider and from the wound tiny spiders spilled forth, crawling up his sword, onto his arm and across his body, so when he woke and the sensation continued on his arm, he jerked it back. He felt the body in his arms stiffen against his chest as he came back to reality. He silently cursed himself before letting out a soft sigh and replacing his arm around her, hesitantly, waiting for a protest. When none came he pulled her closer. A hand laced fingers through his and he felt her shoulder press against his chest.

He slid over so she could lay on her back. He turned onto his stomach next to her. "How are you feeling?"

Solene considered this a moment and wiggled her body a little to test. "Incredibly sore but I don't feel like I'm dying, so that an improvement," she joked.

"You should really drink a potion so you can regain some strength," he said, turning from her and reaching into his bag to procure a potion. He helped her onto her elbows and held her head forward as she drank it. She laid back down with a sigh and closed her eyes. Einar watched her for several long moments. "I was really scared," he finally ventured in a whisper. Solene opened her eyes and turned her head to look him head on. "I really thought you were going to die, and after you passed out, the only way to heal you at that point was with what meager magic I have. I didn't think it would be enough."

"It was," she complimented softly. "Thank you." She placed a gentle hand on his cheek. Her fingers were still cold to the touch.

Einar saw the color returning to her cheeks, but he also remembered how pale they were before, how lifeless she looked. "Gods I thought you were dead. That arrow hit you and I couldn't find you at first. Then when you passed out all I could think about was how I had acted like such a righteous ass, and I-"

Einar was cut off as Solene's hand slipped to the back of his neck and pulled him down to meet her lips. He was surprised at first, then astonished by how warm and amazing her parched lips felt. Then he kissed her back. His lips massaged into hers with an urgency and need he felt since High Hrothgar. She breathed a sigh into his lips, her fingers curling in his hair and he deepened the kiss, his tongue invading her mouth and caressing hers.

A part of him kept warning him that this was wrong, that he shouldn't be doing this, that he needed to let her go. He knew he would have to eventually let her go, but right now that voice protesting was only a small whisper in the back of his head. Right now, the dominant part of his mind was rejoicing at her touch. He threaded his fingers through her hair and grasped her hip with his free hand, pulling himself closer. He moved his leg to wrap around hers and leaned into the kiss.

Then he felt her body and her lips go rigid. He jolted back away from her, moving back to her side. Her face had gone pale again and she gripped at her abdomen in pain. He wanted to help her, but he didn't know what to do so he just waved his hands over her at a loss. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

Solene took a few deep breaths to let the pain recede before looking back up at his worried face. She took another deep breath before laughing lightly. She watched the relief swim in his eyes, then move across his face. It started at the bridge of his nose where his trademark scowl that bunches up in a triangle of skin smoothed out and his troubled brow lifted. Then it moved to his open lips which slowly drew out in a smile before joining her in laughter.

They had spent the rest of the day in that small hidden cave behind the waterfall. They could tell that the day had passed them by from the color of light reflecting off the rushing water. Solene spent most of it cuddled into Einar's arms, and telling him more about life in Bruma.

Despite the constant fear of the Dominion's return, she had had a pleasant childhood. She and her family kept their heads down and made weapons for the Empire. When the Thalmor would come through town, they bowed their heads, played it safe, and made sure none of their neighbors would harbor any grudges against them. More people disappeared from petty feuds than actual violations of the law under the treaty.

Many of Solene's neighbors actually adored her family. They looked up to them and respected her father. She suspected it was because of their family name being Twice-Honored. It was a name that harkened back to valiant deeds and attested to a strong Nordic line. Everyone had forgotten what those deeds were over the centuries. Except for her family that is, but that was a piece of her history that she was not yet ready to tell. She still needed to adjust to this new aspect of her life and still questioned who to trust with all her secrets. She was beginning to trust Einar, and then he pulled away and forced her to reevaluate her reliance on him. She was delighted in these recent turn of events, but she wasn't a child. She wasn't stupid. She still had to question his motives.

The trust would come in time. She had learned her lesson and would approach with caution. She was lucky this time around, but she swore she wouldn't let herself get hurt again, because next time it is bound to be much more painful.

Einar now sat on the ground with Solene between his legs, her back resting against his chest. He draped his arm across his raised knee and Solene laced her fingers through his, turning it over periodically to smooth out his calloused palms with her fingers. "Tell me about your family," she said finally. Einar shifted, letting his leg lower. Solene turned to face him. His head was turned to the side, gazing at the ground. "What is it?" she asked, reaching out to touch his cheek. Einar turned back to face her and she pulled away. His gaze had reverted back to it unyielding mask.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

Solene didn't know whether to push or let it go. The mask in his eyes gave her no sign of what to do, so she opted for caution and dropped her still raised hand to her side. She didn't just want to give up though. Einar had helped her through so many battles and through so many troubling thoughts. If she had to let it close, she had to add something to it first. She knew that a person wouldn't clap a steel cage around happy memories. "I'd like to listen…" she ventured softly, and then added, "When you're ready to say." She reached for his hand and was relieved when he squeezed her fingers.

"You should rest. Do you think you will be well enough to continue tomorrow?"

Solene nodded and stood up and spread out the bearskin pelt as a makeshift bedroll and laid down. "Good night, Einar." She knew he would remain awake for many more hours to watch over her and sleep came easily to her tired mind and body.

* * *

_Solene was stranded in the middle of a frozen forest. She had no idea where she was or how she got there. On her back, she wore a crimson cloak and around her neck rested a massive red diamond set on a gold chain. She could hear the sounds of battle far off and wandered through the dreary woods to find the source. As she got close she could hear voices. She was able to pick out a few that she recognized – Ralof, Ulfric, Einar, and others. When she thought she was headed the right way, the voices would change directions. In frustration, Solene found herself running after them, calling out to them._

_"You can't do this alone…" called the voice of Faendal to her left. She wrapped her arm around a tree as she ran to sling-shot herself towards the voice._

_"…After I cut out your heart…"_

_"You can't have everything!" roared the voice of Ulfric, giving her sudden pause. She slowed and spun as the voices swirled around her._

_"I shall enjoy killing you…"_

_"You cannot do it!" cried Ralof. "That is a betrayal he will not forgive!"_

_"The Dragonborn comes…"_

_The wizened voice of Arngeir called from behind her, dripping with rage. "How could you do it? How could you do it?!"_

_"You are nothing…"_

_"Run, Solene! Run and never look back!" wailed Einar. With this last voice, Solene covered her hears to block out the voices and she fell to her knees, screaming._

_Suddenly the voices stopped and Solene looked up. A massive black bear approached with a helm made of dragon teeth hanging from its maw. It approached her slowly and then dropped the helm at her feet. It sat back on its haunches and then let out a loud roar that shook the trees around her. Solene stumbled back and the amulet fell from her neck. The red diamond seeped hot, red blood that spread through the snow creating a misty red halo around the pair._

* * *

Solene woke with a start and a cry. She looked around and she was alone. Panic began to rise in her as her heart thundered in her chest and she scrambled to her feet. "Einar!" she called out, terrified. "Einar!"

A shadow appeared before the waterfall and Einar crashed through. "Solene! What is it? What's wrong?" He looked around crazed before he spotted her sitting on the bedroll, sweat drenched strands of blonde hair sticking to her cheeks. He let out a breath and waded through the water to her. He dropped to his knees in front of her and wrapped her in a comforting embrace, swaying her back and forth. "Shh. I'm here. I'm here." He wiped the tears from her cheeks and pulled her back, holding onto her shoulders. "Your dreams still haunt you, don't they?"

Solene nodded, the knot in her throat still too tight.

"They're just dreams, Solene," he said, pulling her back into his chest and smoothing out her hair. He knew he was probably wrong, having heard the legends of the Dragonborn emperors and their foresight, but Solene didn't need to worry about that right now. They still had a quest to complete. He continued to hold her while she quieted before pulling away again. "I checked out the way ahead. There is a way through, but I can't figure it out. There's switches, but they closed almost immediately after touching them. I was thinking that this might be part of the test for you."

Solene took a deep breath. "Okay. We should keep going."

Einar helped Solene to her feet and the two waded back out into the main cavern again. They walked back up to one of the higher levels and quickly came to the gates Einar had mentioned. Three stones lay scattered before three gates. Solene approached one, reaching out to touch it, but before she reached it, the stone glowed red and the first gate opened. As she stayed near it, it remained glowing, so she moved forward. When she approached the second, it also began to glow and the second gate opened. She stepped closer to the third and when the third gate opened, Einar darted for it, but they slammed shut, trapping Einar between the second and third.

"Gods be damned!" he cursed, slamming his fists against the second gate. "I was hoping one of us could slip through and find a lever on the other side."

Solene shook her head. "This was meant to test me. It couldn't be that simple." She walked back, an idea already forming in her mind. "Einar, can you get back this way?"

"Why? Can't you just activate the last stone so I can get through?"

"I don't think it'll work that way," she said, approaching the stones again. As she suspected, none of them lit up and the gates did not move.

"Damn. Let me look." Einar looked around the small space he was trapped in and found a pullchain between the gates. He pulled it and the second and first gates opened for him to get through. When he passed through the first again, the gates slammed shut.

Solene chuckled. "So this is the trial." She walked back to the farthest stone and gauged the distances. She took a deep breath and stretched out her legs. She let it out slowly before darting forward between the three rocks and as soon as the third gate opened, she shouted, "WULD!" Her body sped forward in a rush and she passed through the third gate before they collapsed again. She quickly found the pull chain to open the gates and Einar followed. "I guess that answers the question about how this was supposed to test my abilities."

"Amazing," he complimented in a semi-daze. He hadn't seen her use that shout. Really he hadn't seen her use many. He was never there for her actual training. He'd only listened to her talk about it. He couldn't help but feel overwhelmed at witnessing such power, and he wasn't sure he'd ever be unsurprised by it.

They pressed on and quickly found more inhabitants of the tomb. Solene shot down the spiders occupying the room quickly. Einar let out a sigh and sheathed his sword. "I hate spiders…" he grumbled moving forward up the steps.

Solene mock gasped. "The brave Einar is afraid of spiders?"

"Of course, I am! All those legs and those furry pincers? Let's not forget about their unnatural size!"

Solene let out a real gasp this time, but it was lost on Einar as he ascended the steps. "Einar, the tiles!"

Einar's body tensed as he stepped down onto the decorated tile. It gave, but nothing happened. After a few moments, Einar relaxed. He shifted his weight on the tile several times, but it did not react. "It looks like some of them are not traps."

Solene joined him and tested out another tile gingerly. "How do we know which?" Using the end of her bow, she tested several tiles around her. Finally, she decided to pick up a dead spider, not missing Einar's face blanch as she did, and she threw it further into the room. The spider landed on several tiles that did not respond, but as it skidded further, fire shot up and engulfed the spider. "Hmm," she sounded, thinking.

"So what? Do we keep throwing spiders on the floor to proceed safely?" he asked, not expecting an answer, but airing obvious frustrations. "We'll run out before we get out of the room."

"I don't think it will be that complicated," she said quietly, still deep in thought. She moved forward and jumped off the platform onto another tile, testing it. Nothing happened and she let out a relieved sigh. She took her bow and tested out a tile next to her. It lit up in flames. She turned back to Einar, beaming.

"What did you just do?" he asked approaching her.

"I figured it out!" she called cheerily, taking another step.

"I see that, but how?"

"See those tiles by the wall? How are they different from the one I'm standing on?"

It took Einar a few moments, but it quickly donned on him. "The patterns are different…"

"Correct! So we just walk the path of the lighter tiles and no nasty burns." She gave him another grin. Solene was proud of herself, but she was also glad she could actually contribute something to this partnership. If one was to keep track, her record in terms of helping out and pulling her weight was seriously slacking. Einar has saved her 3 times and until now all she had was that lucky shot on the dragon after several guards had already weakened it. Even then Einar had attempted to save her from it before the dragon knocked him aside. She might not be as strong and hardy as him, but at least she proved to be observant and solve many of their ancient predecessors' puzzles. They continued on, Einar following her steps.

Finally, they came to their goal. Einar pulled the chain which released the gate and stepped into the room. Before the, a long walkway surrounded by water led up to an ornate sarcophagus. Solene walked slowly through the room, feeling a strange power pulse through her. It was as if the room had expected her, welcomed her. She reached the bottom of the steps and the room began to shake. Einar turned back, but could not rush to her as the two stumbled on the trembling walkway. On both sides of them, black pillars rose through the water. When the room stopped shaking, the strange feeling left her like as if a long held breath had been finally let out.

Einar held out his hand to her. "Welcome, Dragonborn." The title did not bother her this time. It seemed appropriate now. He had felt it too. The room had awoken to her presence. This was her final test, and she had passed.

Solene walked up to take Einar's hand, but she froze. Her nostrils flared and her lips drew up into a sneer. "What...!" She pushed passed him and approached the sarcophagus.

"What is it?" he asked, troubled.

Solene stormed up the platform and ripped a piece of parchment from the pedestal that he was certain had once held the horn they were seeking. She read over the note before crumpling it up and letting out a frustrated growl and stomped her boot. "It's not here! Someone took it!"

"How? Only someone trained to use shouts could get through those gates," he supplied, taking the letter from her, smoothing it out and reading it. "Should we go to Riverwood?"

"Someone is toying with me, and I'm getting tired of it! Well they made a huge mistake picking Riverwood. I have plenty of friends there who would be more than willing to help me hunt this bastard down!" Solene was absolutely seething. This was her test. _Her_ test! Someone had known about it and beat her to it and now they were forcing her to meet with them. Why all the secrecy? Why all the tricks? Solene had almost died in this cursed tomb and now she felt like it was all for nothing.

A small voice in the back of her mind argued against the regret and she blushed, looking sidelong at Einar. Not everything had been a waste. She still wasn't sure where they stood, but she was happy enough with making it clear to him exactly how she felt. She just needed to make sure to guard herself in case this too was a trick.

Einar pocketed the letter and wrapped a comforting arm around Solene. "Let's just see what this 'friend' has to say. At the very least we can take the horn back."

"They better pray to whatever gods of daedra they worship that they still have their hands on the horn."

It was in after midday when the emerged from the tomb. They bypassed Morthal completely and continued through the plains of Whiterun hold, skipping the roads and they quickly made their way for Riverwood. They arrived by nightfall and Solene made her way straight for the inn.

She walked in and quickly scanned the room. There were no unusual visitors in the inn so she approached the counter, smiling at the familiar face of the Nord innkeeper. "This may come off as crazy, Orgnar, but could I rent out the 'attic' room for tonight?"

As she thought, Orgnar stared at her as if she had just turned into a dremora, but looked up at the steeple-roof with the outer thatch work visible. It was obvious to both of them that she had made a ridiculous request.

Solene closed her eyes and began to imagine this had become an elaborate prank by Clavicus Vile or Sheogorath, but then a hand clasped on her shoulder. She turned to face the innkeeper's wife, Delphine. She was an Imperial, but the people of Riverwood accepted her as one of their own as they had done with Lucius and Camilla.

"Why would you ask such a silly thing, Solene?" asked the Imperial, suddenly uncomfortable.

Solene shrugged and shook her head, obviously disappointed. She had a feeling she wouldn't be finding the horn here, but she was exhausted. "I don't know, Delphine. It was stupid. Can I get a room?"

"Sure, you can take the one on the right. Before you go, though, I have something that Camilla and Faendal left for you if you ever came back through town. It's in my room. Follow me."

Solene gave Delphine a gentle smile and followed. Delphine quickly closed and bolted her door. Solene faced her with a wary expression. "Delphine… What is this? Einar will be looking for me soon."

"Of all the people in Skyrim… I can't believe it's you," she said walking past Solene and opening her empty wardrobe. She pressed against the side of the wardrobe and the back slid to the side revealing a stairway.

"Delphine…" Solene repeated, her voice more dangerous. "Explain this."

Delphine shushed her. "Not here." She turned and walked into the basement. Solene knew she could just leave the room, but she also knew Delphine. At least she thought she did. She was the one who reacted to the request for the attic room. Could she have been the one to take the horn? She had to find out, so she followed her.

The room looked like an armory and a study. Delphine stood leaning against the large table in the middle of the room when Solene entered. "Did you get my note?"

"Do you have my item?" she countered.

Delphine stood up straight. "So you are the one the Greybeards sent. Forgive me, Solene, but I have to just perform one more test, just to be sure."

"How did you get into the tomb? How did you get passed the gates?"

Delphine gave her a pointed look. "How did you get out of the tomb? Did you go back the way you came?"

"No we went through the... the side passage. Did you...?"

Delphine smiled mysteriously. "I've very good at what I do."

"Who are you really, Delphine? Why all the secrecy?"

"I promise you that I will answer all of your questions, but first I have to be sure. I have to see it myself."

"See what?"

"Proof that you are really Dragonborn."

"Ustengrav wasn't enough? Would you like me to shout now?"

Delphine shook her head. "Anyone can be taught to shout."

"I'm twenty three! How much could I have learned in that time?"

"If you started early enough? Plenty." Solene let out a huff and turned to go. "I have to make sure you aren't a plant."

Solene whirled on her. "A plant? For who?!"

Delphine sighed and reached for Solene's hands. Solene pulled back and so the woman just clasped her own hands and held them against her stomach. "Please. As a show of good faith, I will give you the horn. Just come with me to Kynesgrove."

"Why?"

Delphine leaned close and whispered, "Dragons are being brought back from the dead. The next one will be at Kynesgrove."

"How do you know where the next one will be?"

Delphine pulled back. "You're not going to ask me about my back-from-the-dead theory?"

Solene shook her head. "I have come to the same conclusion. I will go with you and face down this dragon."

Delphine nodded and headed for the chest against the wall. She pulled out her leather armor. "I have a good feeling about you, Solene, but I still have to be sure."

Solene nodded, giving up. "It seems as though the nature of my abilities also comes with secrets and riddles."

* * *

Solene clutched the horn to her chest as she ascended the 7,000 Steps. She had a previous mission to accomplish and she would see it done. She and Einar had agreed to meet Delphine at the Windhelm stables before heading south the short distance to Kynesgrove. They had also decided that once they finished in Kynesgrove it would be time to continue on to Windhelm. Solene was still afraid for the end of their journey. Einar's mission would be officially over and she had no idea what would happen after that. He was, after all, a soldier. He could be shipped out almost immediately and she wouldn't know if she'd ever see him again. A part of her was also terrified of Ulfric. One would be a fool not to be. He was a very powerful man who had survived a war, retook the Reach, and was not afraid to defy the Empire.

There were still so many questions and it seems as though each passing day presents more questions than answers. She still felt as though the Greybeards were hiding something and now there was Delphine. Who was she really? Who did she work for and who was she afraid of? Why did Ulfric want her brought to Windhelm? How is she supposed to fight Alduin? Why have the dragons come back?

Solene pulled the horn back from her chest and looked down at it. She had recognized it immediately. It was the split horn from her dream. In her hand, it remained whole, but there was no denying the craftsmanship. It was the same horn. Why, in her dream, was it split in two? All these questions swam in her head as she ascended the final steps.

Einar had waited outside for her to complete her mission on her own. This was a test for the Dragonborn and she had to finish it on her own. He panicked somewhat when the ground trembled and the undeniable voices of the Greybeards rang out and echoed through the valleys and plains below. He quickly regained composure, knowing that she had succeeded and the Greybeards welcomed her. Next she would prove herself to another hidden faction. He still worried if she was truly ready to face another dragon, but he was more worried of what would come after: Windhelm. He was not ready to finish this mission yet.


	9. Chapter 9: Windhelm

Solene didn't know what to feel as she crossed the bridge into Windhelm. She had finished her training with the Greybeards, met an agent of the Blades who swore to serve her as Dragonborn. Out of everyone, Delphine seemed to be the most capable in helping her continue her quest, but right now she was planning her next move. All that was left was to answer the call of the Jarl who had survived Helgen with her. So much has happened since she came to Skyrim. She still wasn't sure if any of it was for the better as the memory of her parents stabbed at her chest bitterly.

Guards stared and whispered as she and Einar passed – who had since Kynesgrove donned the armor of the Stormcloaks once again. As they entered the massive iron gates of the city, Solene couldn't help but stare open-mouthed. She had never been to a place that felt so ancient yet so alive. People bustled around the city, skirting around fallen stones and icy patches. Snow fell like feathers on the town and coated the black stone in stark contrast. The snow that fell onto the paths of the citizens melted from the friction of their constant movements and turned into a dark slush being kicked up in their wake.

Einar nudged her with his shoulder. "It's quite the sight to behold for the first time. Its old but sturdy. The streets buzz with movement, but it is beautiful even in its flaws and run down alleys and dark corners. Its blemishes quickly become part of the charm. This city is real, not a false face hiding backdoor deals and dark secrets. It's brutal in its honesty."

"You love it here, don't you?"

Einar turned to her and smiled. "It's become my home."

Solene returned his smile. "Welcome home."

Einar reached out for her hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze before quickly releasing it again. It did not surprise Solene. The bond they shared and the progress they made was very real, but that was when they were partners traveling Skyrim alone. Now they were in Windhelm, the seat of Stormcloak power during a bloody civil war. Things were going to get complicated. She knew that. However, that did not stop her heart from sinking as his warm hand slipped from hers. "Come, the palace is just behind Candlehearth Hall."

They skirted around the massive inn and strode up the steps leading to the hulking palace. Solene knew more people were staring and whispering about Einar and his return. His mission had become the subject of gossip as their Jarl had become very keen on obtaining whatever it was that this new soldier had been sent after. It seemed though that many were surprised he had returned with a girl.

The great hall of the palace was as cold as the city. Solene wondered if it was because of the actual cold or if it was just perception based on the sparsely decorated and dark interior. The main focal points of the hall were the long table in the middle of the room and a throne high atop a pedestal upon which the Jarl currently reclined, sharing in an argument with another gray-haired Nord wearing armor made of pelts. They stepped further into the hall and a man dressed in red stood from the table about to deny their approach when the Jarl caught sight of them and straightened in his throne. "Peace, Galmar. We have guests."

The old man turned and they waited quietly while Einar approached with Solene at his side. Ulfric found himself leaning forward where he sat as they slowly advanced. When they reached the steps of his throne Einar knelt before the hulking man. Solene followed shortly after. She could feel eyes on her and it frightened her at how heavy it felt. She could not bring herself to look up from the frayed blue rug beneath her, content to memorize every pattern, every thread. "My Lord Jarl, I bring you Lady Solene Twice-Honored of Bruma to answer your summons."

Solene was not expecting the deep chuckle to roll down from the steps. "Such formality, Einar. If we are to be so ceremonial, then you seemed to have blundered, friend. When introducing an acquaintance in court, is it not proper to address them by all of their current titles?" He chuckled again as Einar looked up at him, his cheeks and forehead flushing with mild embarrassment. "Yes, word has reached my court that our young friend has proven to be much more than she appears.

"Rise, Dragonborn." Solene jumped, having missed his descent down the steps and the realization that he now stood in front of her. She braved a glance upward to find him looking down upon her kindly with an outstretched hand. Haltingly, she reached for it and he pulled her to her feet. "You should not bow to me, child. I fear that I am somewhat at fault for your current situation. You have my deepest condolences for the loss of your parents. I cannot help but wonder if your situation would have ended differently had we not been at Darkwater Crossing that day. As such, I feel my honor as both a leader and a Nord is at stake if I did not offer you aid in light of my mistakes. I open my hearth and my home to you if you wish to remain here as my ward."

Galmar stepped forward, eying Solene critically. "My Lord, are you sure this is the right thing to do? She has come from Cyrodiil. There is no assurance that she is not a spy for the Empire."

Ulfric did not even turn towards Galmar as he addressed him, but kept his eyes on Solene still gauging her response. "This young woman would have been a poor spy with her head rolling in the dirt at Helgen. I watched as the axeman's swing nearly cut her down. Do not advise me on what is right when my honor has me bound to take this woman under my care."

Solene bowed her head again. She wanted to hide her tears from them all. They waited silently for her response. She had to take a few moments to truly consider it. She had been orphaned and was completely new to Skyrim. While she had been made Thane in Whiterun, she had no actual home. She had distant relatives in Falkreath, but she had no idea what they were like and if they would take her in. But did she really know this man before her for that matter? Everywhere she went, she heard conflicting stories about him. Some called him hero, some murderer. Still others called him liberator. It seemed that as far as Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak was concerned, there was no middle ground in terms of public opinion. He was either loved by loyal and devoted followers or reviled by those who sided with the Empire.

If anyone had truly helped her since coming to Skyrim, it was Ulfric and his Stormcloaks. Solene raised her head, facing them with confidence in her watery eyes. "Jarl Ulfric, it would be my honor and I graciously accept, but please also consider using my help."

A smirk tugged at a corner of the Jarl's lips. "What skills do you offer?"

"I apprenticed under my father at his smithy before coming to Skyrim. Since coming I have trained in archery and in the Way of the Voice."

"Tell me, did those musty old monks convince you that peace and balance was the way to achieve mastery?" Solene didn't miss the small bitter undertone in his voice. It reminded her of Arngeir.

She shook her head. "The very nature of my abilities make it impossible to seek mastery through pacifism. I wish to train and become a better warrior so that I may face the returning dragons and slay them as my fate has bound."

Ulfric gave her a smile that reached his eyes. "Very well. It would be my pleasure to assist you in such a noble cause. When the time comes you may also become a valuable asset to our cause. Until then, I will train you to use your Voice and your skills in tandem to become a fearsome warrior. We will begin tonight, but first allow my steward to show you to your quarters." He turned to Einar, who had been passive during the entire exchange. He placed a large hand on his shoulder.

Solene always thought that Einar was solid and sturdy, even for a Nord, but now as he stood next to Ulfric whose massive hand engulfed the younger's shoulder, he seemed dwarfed in the imposing man's presence. "You have done very well. You took the task with eagerness and performed it better than was asked of you. Go now. You have earned your rest. Return in the evening to dine with us."

Einar bowed his head and walked to the other end of the hall before disappearing through a door near the entrance. Solene deeply hoped that his respite would be prolonged. She did not wish to see him off to battle anytime soon.

The steward, whom Solene discovered was named Jorleif, led Solene upstairs through the War Room to the living quarters of the Jarl and his most trusted officers. They had passed a small intersection flanked by iron doors, and at the second Jorleif turned to the left and opened an iron door to reveal a sizeable bedroom on the other side.

In the center of the room sat a large bed covered in furs. On both sides of the bed sat two nightstands. On the wall behind the bed was an empty bookshelf and three large windows letting shafts of light in through its patterned frame. To the left there was a fireplace, glowing orange with still warm embers, and on the opposite wall a small table set with food served on silver dishes and a wardrobe. "It isn't much, but at least it's warm," offered Jorleif.

"It's perfect." She could already see herself living here, eating at the table as she poured over maps, filling the bookshelf with books and journals she collected on her travels, and burrowing into the warm furs after a long day out in the cold. It truly was perfect.

"Dinner will begin at dusk. Shall I come fetch you when it is time?"

"You don't need to do that, Jorleif."

"Very well. Enjoy your stay my lady."

"Please just call me Solene. I am not a lady or noble."

"You are the responsibility of the Jarl now. I am here to serve you as I serve my Jarl as are the others in service to this palace and hold." Without any other word on the subject, he turned to leave.

Solene wasn't sure how she felt about his assertions or what they truly meant. She tried to bury those questions for now and burrowed into the furs as she had envisioned. Right now in the absence of answers, she fell back on locking away all her questions until later, but every once in a while she would find time to dwell on it again.

* * *

A mild blizzard had picked up by the time they reached Kynesgrove, but it did little to disguise the hulking beast that flew circles around the ridge above the town. Miners and townsfolk rushed down the path towards Windhelm and battered the three travelers while they rushed towards the burial mound. She had never seen such panic before. She witnessed dragons terrorize soldiers and guards, but never small townsfolk. See the panic on their faces, Solene couldn't help but think about Riverwood and how they would have managed against Mirmulnir had they not killed him.

They arrived just in time to witness what Solene had experienced in her dream as Mirmulnir. A skeletal dragon rose from the dirt as flesh seemed to sear back onto its bones. The black dragon who she knew as Alduin spoke to the dragon as he rose, but Solene was only able to translate a few words. Alduin noticed this as well and addressed her finally in the common tongue, chastising her for her ignorance. She did however understand his last command before taking to the skies. _Krii_.

The fight was difficult, but Einar and Solene had faced his kind before and Delphine was a skilled warrior. The battle concluded when the dragon made to consume Einar but he jumped back and used his shield to bash the dragon as his massive head swung close. When the dragon was staggered he slide beneath its belly and plunged the sword into its chest. With a twist and wrenching pull he sliced open its rough hide.

This time when the dragon burned and its soul materialized like a flame, Einar stepped back and let it engulf Solene. Delphine stood to the side in awe. "I can't believe it. It's true. The return of the Dragonborn…" Delphine bowed her head to Solene in reverence. "I am honored to serve you, Dragonborn. And as promised, I will answer any question you have."

Delphine, as Solene had discovered, was an agent of the Blades which at first didn't only led to more questions. What was a bodyguard doing swearing allegiance to her? Delphine had explained that before they served the empire they were dragon hunters. The Dragonborn was a gift from the gods made to hunt dragons. The perfect dragon slayer, she called her. They came to serve the Dragonborn emperors after the dragons had fallen. Now that a Dragonborn has resurfaced, the Blades had a purpose again.

Solene knew that Einar had a duty to fulfill, but these Blades seem to have answers and she asked to be taken to them so they could help her discover who she was and what she was supposed to do, but not even Delphine knew the whereabouts of the Blades survivors who survived being hunted down by the Thalmor. Solene saw this as yet another reason to hate the Dominion. She was however certain that now that there was a purpose for the Blades, they would gather in Skyrim to fulfill their duties and she would search for leads on information regarding the dragons, then urged Solene to continue on to Windhelm.

Now she was here, safe and protected. While Delphine searched for information and ways to stop the dragons, she would train and become the perfect dragon slayer that many expected her to be.

* * *

Dinner was a raucous affair as soldiers and officers took up seats at the long table. Mead and ale was spilled while they told wild stories of their battles. At one point, a dark-haired Nord – while recounting an ambush on a Thalmor party guarding Stormcloak prisoners – gestured wildly with his mug in his hand and spilled mead all over the fair-haired woman next to him. The ale soaked into her Stormcloak cuirass and for a moment she just stared at him. The tension built in the room to a palpable thickness and soon everyone had quieted to witness the event unfold.

Rage worked its way up through her stiff neck and into her eyes. Finally she let out a fierce cry and leapt at him, knocking him off the bench and onto the floor. She sat on his stomach and punched him repeatedly across the face. "Teach you to spill on me you oafish prick!"

Many soldiers cheered her on, but after a time, Ulfric glanced pointedly at Galmar who barked orders at nearby soldiers. "Get her off the poor lad before we have to mop his blood off the floor!"

After the moaning Nord was dragged off to the barracks, dinner had settled back into its old rhythm. Einar sat close by answering questions about their journey. She would jump in every now and then to add details to the story. She noticed how boyish he seemed in the midst of all these soldiers who were engulfed in his tales. She remembered that he was still new to the rebellion and she could see now how gratified he felt at this acceptance. She was happy for him. She was happy for herself too. Things finally seemed to be going her way. Within the walls of the city she was certain that she'd be freer to explore her feelings for Einar. She was pulled out of her reverie along with the others as a conversation took the attention of all at the table.

"…damn the Moot! We should risk letting those milkdrinkers put Torygg's woman on the throne? She'll hand Skyrim over to the elves on a silver plate."

"All the more reason then. The crown would legitimize your claim."

"A crown doesn't make a king."

"No, but this one..."

"If it even exists."

"It exists. And it'll be the symbol of the righteousness of our cause. Think about it. The Jagged Crown! It heralds back to a time before jarls and moots. Back to the time when a king was a king because his enemies fell before him, and his people rose because they loved him. Skyrim needs that king. You will be that king, Ulfric. You must be."

"You're certain you've found it?"

"When have I ever been false with you?"

Ulfric quietly considered this for a time while the entire room sat waiting for his answer. "Fine. Take the initiate with you," he said turning to Einar. "Fancy a crawl through more tombs to stir up Galmar's fabled crown?"

"It'll by my honor, my Jarl," said Einar with a bow of his head and a murmur rising around the table.

A female soldier next to Solene leaned in close. "Lucky bastard has already found favor. Now he's going to get all the best assignments."

Solene nodded silently next to her. She didn't want him to get all the best assignments. She wanted him to stay with her and listen while she recounted her training and go out on adventures with her. She wasn't ready for that to end. Solene felt a pang of guilt as she suddenly regretted coming to Windhelm.

* * *

Long after the soldiers had gone to bed happily with warm mead in their bellies, Solene was summoned to the training yard outside the palace. The snow had stopped falling, but a light layer still covered the untouched ground. A single pair of footsteps led to the center of the yard where Ulfric stood waiting. He waved his arm to the dummies at the end of the yard. "Show me what you can do."

Solene took a deep gulp, trying to calm her nerves. It was one thing to say she had trained with a bow, but now she had to prove it in front of a warrior who would surely scrutinize her in great detail. She lifted her bow from her back and readied an arrow. She took a deep breath and released. It struck the center of the dummy's chest. She turned to Ulfric in relief and pride. He returned a gaze that remained unimpressed.

"Again. This time, you must strike faster." She did as he asked and took less time before releasing, the arrow landing slightly lower than the one before it. Nerves still wracked her body as he remained stoic. "Keep firing," he commanded and she followed his instructions.

She was intent on getting a reaction from him, focusing on her shots and her speed. She did not register the crunch of fresh now before she found herself on her back. Ulfric stood over her with a frown on his face. "If you are intent on using a bow you must constantly be aware of your surroundings. You must be able to determine when a bow will no longer be of use and switch to another tactic. Now, stand up and show me how you fight."

Solene got to her feet and walked over to her bag and pulled out her sword. Ulfric motioned for her to attack so she charged at him, pulling the sword back behind her for a power strike. "FUS!" Solene flew back at the force of his shout. She sat in the dirty snow, her unused sword discarded. He hadn't even used the full Thu'um on her and she was thrown on her ass.

"I told you I'd show you how to become a real warrior. Your single-minded tactics may serve you well with a group or a companion, but you must learn to adapt! To change to your surroundings! You have such power within you and you do not use. Use it! Now, again!"

Solene charged again, an idea formulating in her mind. She knew he was going to shout at her again, but this time she was ready. When he sucked in a deep breath, she beat him to it. "WULD!" She cut through the force of his shout and rammed her body into his. He staggered back several steps but he did not fall. She had to remind herself that Ulfric would not be forgiving if she sat there waiting for approval so she decided to take it by force and darted forward again, slashing with her sword. He blocked and went on the defensive, taking several steps back while he let her advance.

Her swings became predictable and she could sense a disappointment rising in her opponent. When she again swung to keep him on his toes while she thought of another move, he instead parried with his own and then grabbed her arm and pushed her back. With the safer distance he quickly shouted "ZUN HAAL VIIK!" Solene's sword flew out of her hand and she was left defenseless.

Ulfric shook his head. "You must continue working on your other skills. You skills with the bow are indeed admirable, but your awareness and skill with the sword are lacking. It will get you killed." He walked over to her discarded sword and picked it up. Handing it to her, he added, "You have such power in your blood and you must become one with your skills and your power to be able to use them interchangeably in battle. When you do that, you will have become a true warrior."

"What about my Voice?"

"It is said that there are many Words of Power. You alone must continue your study of the dragon tongue to find them all. I will teach you what I can, but not even I have mastered it all, nor have the Greybeards. You have the unique opportunity to do so. Do not squander this gift. I expect to see you back here within seven days. Until then, you will train with Ralof in your combat skills."

Aching and embarrassed, Solene trudged up to her room. Sitting at her table and eating an apple was Einar. "So, how did it go?" he asked, repeating the same query he had for a week while in High Hrothgar. She beemed and joined him at the table. "Good?"

"Not really. He pretty much made me look like a child with a toy sword."

"Then why are you smiling?" he asked, unable to stop his own smile.

"Because you're still here."

He chuckled softly. "I'll always be here. Even when I'm gone, I'll always come back." His smile faltered and he took on a serious countenance. "I'm leaving tomorrow with Galmar and a few others. We're heading for Korvanjund and the trip should only take a few days."

"Why do you have to go?"

"I'm a soldier, Solene. My leaders ask me to go, I go. Besides, this is an important mission to Galmar and Ulfric. If I can manage at this pace, I can become an officer before the end of this war."

"You don't need to be an officer," she argued. "I only care that you're safe. You know who becomes officers? Those who survive long enough."

Einar reached out for her hand and squeezed it. "You don't understand. I do need to become an officer, or at least keep in favor with Ulfric. You've agreed to become his ward. You are his responsibility, but also a potential asset. I'm not just talking about you being a Dragonborn, but also as a woman. You might not like the idea, but he could very well use you to gain more allies or solidify old allegiances. We're in the middle of a civil war and he will do anything it takes to win. Are you willing to go to those lengths to help him?"

Solene shook her head. She hadn't realized he could do something like that. Her parents had done the same thing back in Cyrodiil, but she trusted her parents. Did she trust Ulfric? She didn't want to get shipped off to some Jarl or noble as a tool to win a war. She wanted to help fight it. She wanted Einar, and she told him as much.

Einar smiled warmly at her and embraced her, resting her cheek against his chest. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that out loud, but you will have to let me prove myself to him. When the time is right, I will ask him for his blessing. You just need to stay here, continue training and worry about dragons. I will keep returning safe. Not just to earn approval, but for you." He pressed his palms into her cheeks and pulled her head back to bend down to kiss her forehead.

"Promise me."

"I promise."


	10. Chapter 10: Blood on the Ice

"There's nothing wrong with the bow, Solene," consoled Ralof as he handed her the bow again.

"Yeah sure, up to a point, but then when enemy soldiers or even dragons get close what do I do then? Run away?"

"That's when you switch to your daggers" he concluded, nudging the bow towards her again. "Ulfric was trying to teach you flexibility in combat, not to rule out your talents. What do you do when you come across a hoard of bandits all by yourself? Will you wait for them all to gang up on you at once?"

"No…"

"What do your instincts tell you?"

"To pick them off before they reach me…" she added sullenly.

"And what happens when you fight a dragon in flight? Do you wait for it to come after you with its breath or take the offensive?"

"I want to take the offensive, but…"

"No buts, Solene," chided Ralof, pushing the bow into her chest. "If you want to become a warrior, act like one. Don't act like a child and give up on your strengths because of disappointment. You really didn't understand the lesson did you?"

"I—"

"Ulfric was harsh on you because he was trying to teach you a lesson about fighting. You were so eager to become a dragon slayer, but you aren't ready yet. He just needed to show you that. Instead of focusing on training your weaknesses, you're trying to change everything about yourself." Ralof pulled the hilt of the greatsword from her hands and hefted up the large blade from the ground where Solene let it drop moments before. He leaned it against a wooden pillar and picked up two daggers and handed them to her. Her original iron dagger had been replaced with two steel ones. "You're quick and light on your feet. You have the perfect build and patience to become a good archer and in close combat, I will teach you to dual wield daggers. You're fast; you can become faster. You don't need a huge axe or sword to be deadly."

Solene accepted the gifts offered to her with a blush. "Thanks, Ralof."

"Why do you want to change yourself so badly?"

"I just don't want to disappoint anyone…" Solene bowed her head slightly and looked to the ground. The ground was muddy from the morning exercises of the soldiers, but they have since cleared away so that Solene may train.

"You're the Dragonborn, Solene. You've killed two dragons and passed training with the Greybeards. What are you afraid of doing wrong? Who are you even afraid of disappointing?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm the Dragonborn. Everyone seems to be telling me who I am supposed to be and what I'm supposed to do, but I don't even know what that is. Even worse there are dragons coming back to life and everyone thinks that I'm the one to do something about it. Now tell me I shouldn't be afraid."

Ralof stared at her for a few long moments, mulling his thoughts over in his mind. "That's exactly it, Solene. You are the Dragonborn. You will find your way, your own way. If you go about all of this trying to please everyone, you'll make no one happy, and what's worse," he emphasized, pressing her quiver of glass arrows into her chest, "You'll get yourself killed. Forget what they think. You'll do what you need to and become who you need to."

"What about Ulfric though?"

"Well, that's someone you should probably listen to, seeing as he's taken you in," he amended with a smirk. "But don't worry. He's a good man and our cause is just. But you just worry about the dragons for now. Now, shall we train?"

Solene nodded with a smile. "What will you teach me today?"

"You're great with a bow, but Ulfric told me how you seem to lose yourself to nerves, so let's work on your strengths and add a little agility."

"How?"

Ralof grinned wide and picked up the rope tied to the pillar. He pulled the rope and it slid through pulleys and a wooden target raced across the courtyard. "I had the shipyard workers help me put it together," he said very much proud of himself.

"Wow. Impressive."

"Think you can hit it?" he grinned, pulling the counter-weight and bringing it back to its original position.

Solene returned his smirk. "Watch me."

* * *

Training with Ralof had been tough. He didn't allow for any excuses, but he was still a patient man. In the few days that she had trained with him, she had increased her skill with the bow and learned to switch between combat styles swiftly. Tomorrow she would be tested by him in a sparring match. She felt confident in her growth and instead of staying in the yard for hours practicing against the training dummies, she had decided to visit the blacksmith and treat herself with some well-earned peace. Smithing was calming work. It was one of the only constants in her life. She knew where she stood when it came to smithing. All she had to do was envision her work and create it – given the right materials. She had heard great things about Oengul's forge and she had decided that she needed some new armor. She no longer wished to walk around in armor that constantly reminded her of her mistake in Ustengrav when she was pierced by two arrows.

"Lady Solene, how wonderful to see you. What may I do for you today?" asked Oengul as she approached. It did not surprise her that the people of Windhelm knew about her so quickly. They had probably known about her future residence in Windhelm before even she did.

"I had hoped that I might make use of your forge, Master Oengul."

The old man's ruddy cheeks grew darker and he shifted on his heel. "You are too kind, my Lady, but I am no master. I am just honored to serve my Jarl and rightful High King. Though someday, I will become a master that even Grey-Mane will revere."

"Eorlund Grey-Mane? I've met him. His skyforge is beautiful."

"I may have an ordinary forge, but someday I will be known across all Skyrim and I won't need a legendary forge to do so."

"Ulfric is lucky to have you then. Is there anything you could teach me?"

"Hmm do you have the skill to forge weapons and armor?"

Solene waved at herself in her leather armor. "I made this." Oengul inspected her closely, walking around her and picking at a few pieces of her armor. "I also made some steel armor for a friend."

"How about a test," he said rummaging through his supplies. He pulled out an iron ingot, two steel ingots, and a leather strip. "Make me a steel sword."

Solene set to work and soon found herself at peace as she practiced her craft. She had made plenty of steel swords before and her movements had almost become automatic. It was so easy to fall into the rhythm of smithing as it let her clear her mind of all the troubles in the world, and currently there were many. After some time had passed, Solene was inserting the blade into the hilt of her newly forged steel sword. Before giving it to Oengul to inspect, she followed her normal habits and took out a steel ingot from her own bag and sharpened the sword.

Oengul accepted the blade with anticipation. He checked the weight and balance of the sword then ran his thumb across the edge. He grinned as his thumb came away with an angry red smear. "I should hire you as an apprentice! Now, what is it you seek to craft?"

"I was hoping to make a new set of armor. Something stronger, but still light."

"Let's see. Hmm." Oengul went back to his supply and sifted through his wares. "I could make elven armor with this... No, no. That would dishonor the Jarl. There is glass… Hmm. It's still of elven design." Oengul sighed and muttered to himself. "But I have everything for the breastplate…" He turned to her with several materials including bright green and pearlescent ingots. "The Jarl will just have to accept the fact that not everyone can wear heavy armor made of Nordic design," he announced. "We will begin with the hardest piece of glass armor. This takes a lot of work as you will be crafting several small individual pieces to fit into the overall piece."

Solene worked with Oengul well into the evening. They reforged the malachite ingots into smaller the smaller pieces that would be fitted into the moonstone plate and by the time Oengul closed up his shop, Solene had crafted most of the pieces. He carefully collected the components of the armor and locked them away in his quarters before bidding her goodnight. Solene hurried home, impatient for the new day and to continue her work. Crafting this armor was a challenge and she loved it. It felt good to excel at something when everything else was spiraling out of her control.

She turned the corner leading away from the Stone Quarter and taking a shortcut through the graveyard when a horrible smell made her gag and turn away. She skidded on the ice and slid across the ground on her rear end. When she finally stopped, she sat mere feet away from the mutilated body of a woman draped across a gravestone. She tried to take several breaths through her mouth, but she could not calm her panicked stomach and she retched into the muddy snow.

"Help! Murder! There's been a murder!" cried the beggar woman who is always out in front of the palace. She ran down the steps and was quickly followed by a guard.

The guard approached the scene. "Dammit! Not another one!"

A priestess ran out of the Hall of the Dead. "What has happened? Who is it?"

"Susanna," replied the beggar.

"By Ysmir, who could have done this?" cried the priestess.

The beggar turned to Solene. "She was here when I found her."

Both women turned to Solene with accusing glares. "Peace Silda," called the guard and removed her helm. Solene recognized her as the fair haired woman from the feast – the one who had gotten into a fight. "Lady Solene, what happened here?" she asked gently, pulling her up from the snow.

"I was just leaving the Stone Quarter, on my way back to the palace, when…" Solene couldn't take her eyes off the body, ripped and torn. "I didn't even see her until… Oh gods," she trailed off, turning away and covering her mouth.

"We have to find who did this. Why haven't you caught him yet?" cried the priestess, accusingly.

"How many others have died?" asked Solene, incredulous.

"Susanna was the third. It's always the same. Young girl, killed at night, body torn up."

"How long have you been investigating this?"

The guard's face turned to stone and she tensed up. "We're stretched thin as it is. Most of us are off fighting a war, if you haven't noticed."

"You can't just let a killer loose in Windhelm!"

"Hey, if you want to help, then ask these gawkers what they saw. Otherwise, let me do my job and get out of my way." The woman let go of Solene's arm and joined the priestess in examining the body.

"Coinpurse is intact," offered the priestess as the guard joined her.

"This never was about gold," murmured the guard as Solene walked up to the beggar and the man who had joined her.

"I can't believe this has happened before."

"It's always a shame when someone so young has to die," commented the man who joined them recently. "I wish I had seen the man's face who I saw running away a few moments before."

"You saw someone running?" asked Solene, turning to him.

The man bowed his head. "Aye, but he was hooded and ran fast. I ran the other way to see what the commotion was. Now I wish I had pursued him." The man looked up at Solene and he paused a moment, something registering in his eyes. "I-I'm sorry, I do not believe we have met. I am Calixto Corrium. Who might you be?"

"Solene Twice-Honored from Bruma."

"Interesting…" Calixto continued to stare a few moments longer befote he shook his head and looked back into her eyes. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I certainly hope these gruesome events do not mar your stay here. If you ever wish to see a more light-hearted side of the city, I would be honored to share my little museum with you on the other side of town."

He held out his hand and Solene took it. He gripped her hand tightly and grasped their joined hands in his other in what she assumed was a customary greeting. "Thank you, sir." He released her hand and ascended the steps. When he was out of sight, Solene turned back to the guard and the priestess.

The priestess stood up and brushed off her robes. "There's not much. I will have to examine the body more closely to be sure."

The guard sighed. "As usual. Nothing. No evidence, no witnesses. The bastard's got away again."

"These murders can't continue. Will you let me help?" offered Solene, joining them.

The guard grunted. "Look, I only said that to get you off my back, but if you're really willing to help, talk to Jorleif. If he allows it, I'll let you help."

Solene sighed and turned from the scene. She didn't think the steward would let the Jarl's ward get involved in a murder investigation in the city, but she would at least try.

* * *

"Are you touched by Sheogorath? Gods, no!" cried Jorleif.

"Please, Jorleif. Ulfric is busy with his war and his soldiers cannot guard the city while they are fighting outside the walls."

"Ulfric would kill me if I let you chase after the butcher."

"Ulfric will listen to you. You say so yourself."

Jorleif shook his head. "No, not to this."

"I am not a child! I killed draugr and dragons and bandits well before I got here."

"No! I won't allow it; it is too dangerous."

"Dangerous? How am I any safer living in a city with a murderer stalking about who is targeting women? Must I wait for him to attack me himself to help put an end to this?"

"If you are even thinking of using yourself a bait, Ulfric will have you locked in the upstairs until the man is caught."

"And if you don't win the civil war soon that may be before or after the World-Eater consumes us all. For your sake, let's hope for before," she hissed back. "If you are going to be stubborn about this, then here is my only warning. I can be stubborn too. I can't believe that women in your city are being murdered and all you can do is come up with excuses, putting this damned war before your own people!"

"Keep your voice down!" cried Jorleif in a hoarse whisper. "Ulfric would not take kindly to those accusations."

"Really? Because his people are whispering them in his own city. Let me help. Let me help as an extension of Ulfric, and fix his image in the public's eye. His people will rally around him again if he sends the legendary Dragonborn to help his city in his place."

Jorleif was silent for several moments before he let out a low groan. "I cannot fight you on this and I cannot deny your wisdom. Fine. You can help, but promise me you will not do anything more than look for clues. If there is any – _any _– sign of danger, you will go find a guard, is that clear? Oh, and don't breathe a word of this to Ulfric!"

"Understood," she said with a smile and went to bed, formulating a plan to hunt down that guard again in the morning.


	11. Chapter 11: An Investigation

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. Thanks to all those who have reviewed, followed, and favorited my story. **

Solene rose early in the morning and slipped off to the training yard to watch the soldiers in their morning exercises. As she expected, the fair-haired soldier who had been assigned to guard-duty was there swinging away at a dummy with her axe. Solene leaned against a pillar and watched her train. She took this moment to gather her thoughts on how to proceed in the case. She had come up with several ideas and scenarios last night when she had attempted – in vain – to sleep.

Solene wasn't always a very observant girl, but she did have one trait that she could use to her advantage, and that was her stubborn determination and clear focus once she set herself to a task. It served her well in smithing and she hoped it would serve her well now.

The soldier caught sight of her and left her exercises to approach Solene. Solene lifted herself up off the pillar to greet her. "Before you try to say anything to convince me to go behind the steward's back, know this. My very short and young life has been spent dreaming of fighting for the heroes of the Great War and of Markarth, and by trying to drag me down into your little scheme, I will forever destroy my dream. Now, what is it you wanted?"

Solene was slightly taken aback by her little speech. She was first shocked that she didn't believe she would get permission to investigate – but then again, she was shocked Jorleif finally conceded as well. However, what stuck out to her the most was how she had simply forgotten that her actions could have such high consequences for others. She felt a sudden pang of guilt as she connected this narrow vision to her other mistakes in the past including Frotti and her parents. She wondered how many other lives she may have hurt or ruined in her selfishness.

"Whoa, let's backtrack. I'm sorry," offered the guard, sensing Solene's sudden distress. "How may I serve you, Lady Solene."

"I am actually here on permission of the steward to act on behalf of the Jarl in this investigation."

"Okay, let's save that little speech for the public. Be frank. He really gave you permission?"

"Why does no one believe that I can do this?" asked Solene, a little louder than she had wanted. She looked around and lowered her voice before proceeding. "Yes, Jorleif gave me permission to assist you in hunting for clues. I'm not a child, I'm not a helpless woman, I am the Dragonborn."

"No, you are not a child and you're right, you are more capable than most citizens of this city. You are not, however a soldier, or a guard, or even yet a dragon slayer. You may have the blood of a dragon, but I wouldn't go about flaunting it while you are still training to properly fight."

"I-" Solene stopped herself short. This woman was right. Ulfric had literally dragged her through the dirt and while she had progressed with Ralof, those were baby steps. This woman was probably training and fighting for years. "You're right, but I have to grow and learn somehow. I do not have the luxury of years of training and service that you had."

Now the soldier took a few thoughtful moments before responding. "You're right. I'm Thora, by the way, and to be honest, I'm actually glad to have your help. I hope you're as useful at catching a killer as you are at slaying dragons."

"Well, I've only killed two, and really the second time Einar—" Solene stopped noticing Thora's exasperated expression. "Right. I'll do my best."

"What were the terms of your service?"

"Jorleif said that I was to search for clues and report back to either him or the guard. If I felt that there was any danger either, I was supposed to find a guard immediately."

Thora nodded before speaking, "Alright, then there are two things you can do for me today. You can talk to Helgird in the Hall of the Dead. She will be preparing the body. She's a crazy old bat, but she deals with the dead all day. If there was one thing she knows best, it's the dead. She can update you on any clues found on the body. After that, a fresh pair of eyes on the crime scene would help. You should try to get to that soon before the elements and time remove what's left of any evidence. I'll be following up with the witnesses today. Good luck, Lady Solene."

"Please, just Solene, and luck with you as well, Thora."

With her new assignment, Solene hurried off back towards the graveyard. She had decided to speak with Helgird first in hopes that information about the body may help inform what to look for at the scene. She walked in through the heavy iron doors and immediately shivered and wanted to run back out. A cold breeze swept the halls and it reminded her too much of an old tomb. She half expected draugr to rise at any moment. This wasn't the type of scene she expected to see in the middle of Windhelm. Though the ancient city has already surprised her much in recent days.

She made her way through the halls following the voice of the priestess echoing off in the distance. As the voice grew louder she could make out the woman's words. "… large diagonal cut from left shoulder." The robed woman wandered around the body on the wooden table and examined the corpse close.

"Have you noticed anything about the body?"

"Well, she's dead," she offered somewhat in a huff. "But I guess that's not unusual, at least not for somebody in here. I mean, someone who's not me, that is." She was rambling now. She could now understand Thora's assessment of this priestess. "Sorry, was only joking with you."

Solene wasn't sure if that actually lightened the mood any in here. "So… the body?" she goaded.

"Oh, yes, right, of course! The only unusual thing is the shape of the cuts. They look like they were made with… well the ancient Nords used these kinds of curved blades when they embalmed the dead."

"Yes, I've seen them in their barrows."

"I don't know who in Windhelm would even have something like that. Other than me, of course," she added with a nervous laugh.

Solene did take that into consideration. She was positive that the woman wouldn't have divulged that information if she herself had committed the act, but anything was possible for someone who spent their entire life tending after the dead. "Does anyone else have access to your tools?"

"No one else in the city comes down here. Well, not until their dead of course. You will come down here, too, someday. I mean, other than right now of course. Anyway, I think I would have noticed my tools go missing especially since I deal with the dead day in and day out. And don't you go thinking I've done this either. I'm too busy with the current dead to go around making new ones!"

"Does it bother you? The killings, I mean."

"Of course. I never wish to see someone down here well before their time. These killings are unnatural things," she said shaking her head. "Very unnatural."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well for starters, it's a murder! Goes against all natural laws! But there is something else about the bodies that I forgot to mention. These women who have been murdered, they've been… missing things."

Solene visibly shuddered. "What have they been missing?"

"It's been different for each girl. I only just noticed it this time to be honest. The first one was missing her head entirely along with some muscle and sinew. The second was missing a limb here and there and a few organs. This one was similar to the last."

"Someone is… taking their body parts?" Solene was horrified. "What is he doing with them?"

The priestess shrugged. A light came into her eyes and she jumped. "I have heard of a cult who eats people. Maybe he's doing that. I can't imagine one man being able to eat an entire body on his own."

Solene was done with this conversation and this place. She had spent enough time next to the deceased woman from Candlehearth Hall. "If there is anything else, please let me know. Thank you, Helgird."

"You're welcome child. I hope it may be still many more years before I see you again." Solene understood the morbid meaning to her words and she dearly wished for the same, never wanting to step foot into these halls again.

Solene stepped out into the courtyard and quickly worked through all of the new information she just received. She now knew what the murder weapon was, a pattern to the killings, and a potential motive. She also thought of a few new witnesses she could speak to about Susanna and she also grew determined to find out who the other two victims were to question others on them as well.

With all of that information now categorized in her mind and laid out into new tasks she continued on with the second task requested of her by Thora. She walked over to the gravestone where Susanna was draped the night before and crouched low. As feared, a light layer of snow already covered the scene. Solene carefully brushed the snow away from the gravestone revealing the dried blood crusted into the cracks and crevices of the stone. She looked around the ground near the stone hoping for some evidence to have remained in the frozen ground. After some more dusting in the dirt and snow, she had noticed several footprints that had kept their form over the frozen night and had not yet melted in the day's heat. She felt a slight rush at having noticed this, but her heart sank when she noticed several different footprints in the area. This was an area that saw a lot of movement through the day and there were several witnesses at the scene last night and these could have belonged to any of them. She knew she wasn't on the right track yet.

Solene sat on her haunches and looked around. She glanced around the frozen, old, and depressing graveyard, hoping for something to tell her what to do next. She wasn't experienced in this and time was not on her side. Suddenly she noticed something and stood up straight. She walked towards the middle of the graveyard and brushed her foot through a patch of pink snow. Below the layer of freshly fallen snow, she noticed blood frozen onto the ground. She kept brushing away with her foot to find it formed a decent sized pool. She was certain that this was from last night, and if this Butcher was taking things from his victims it would certainly create a trail of blood.

Solene examined the graveyard more closely, looking for pink patches of snow. She noticed another patch a short distance away and another one further west. This was what she was looking for! Solene followed the trail to the end of the graveyard then turned north towards Windhelm's estates. The followed the trail past large houses and finally stopped at the end of the road, the only direction left between two houses. She stood between the two properties and looked back and forth between the two. She turned to her left, noticing something strange about the door. As she got closer, she realized it was a bloody handprint pressed into the wood. Solene tried to open the door but it was bolted shut. She stepped back a few paced and looked up at the house. It was completely dark. Even though its owner could have left for the day, she was certain it was unused as the house had an air of abandonment about it. She would ask Thora about it.

Thora was no longer in the training yard, so she ran into the palace and then on to the barracks to the right. As expected, Thora was there, eating some bread and cheese and washing it down with ale. Solene joined her at the table and ripped of a piece of bread from the loaf at the table. "I'm assuming your search gained little," she said sighing heavily.

"Actually, I found a few things."

Thora's eyes lit up and she sat up straight in her chair. "Really? Tell me everything."

"I learned two things from Helgird. First, the Butcher is using a sort of ancient embalming tool to kill the girls. Helgird has those tools for obvious reasons, but she doesn't know of anyone else in Windhelm who would have them. Then second, the Butcher is actually taking pieces of the victims with him."

"That's disgusting! What is he using them for?"

"That's what I asked. Helgird seems to think that there is this cannibal cult that is eating them, but I wouldn't trust that motive just yet. That doesn't however erase the fact that body parts are going missing."

"How did we not see this before?"

Solene shrugged, remembering something her mother taught her when she was little and always trying to blame her missing toys on others. "Two points don't make a pattern. It wasn't until the third victim that Helgird noticed it, and he's been taking different parts."

Thora put her food – more accurately threw it – onto her plate. "That means he's probably not done yet. We can't let this information get out. Not yet. With Viola already going around warning people about the Butcher, we don't need more panic and fear to spread."

Solene nodded. "There was another thing I noticed. I found a blood trail leading away from the graveyard."

"Where did it take you?"

"To the north westernmost house in Windhelm."

"Hjerim? That was… Gods."

"What is it?"

"That was the home of the first victim, Friga Shatter-Shield. It's been abandoned ever since she was killed. I think her mother, Tova, has the key."

"Do you think she'll give it to me?"

Thora shook her head. "There is no telling what a grieving woman would do. You can at least try."

"Thanks, Thora!" she called, getting up to her feet and running out.

As she passed the threshold of the barracks she ran into something sturdy. "There you are!" bellowed an agitated voice.

Solene looked up at the man she ran into. "Ralof? What's the matter?"

Ralof shook his head. "Did you really forget? Your combat test is today! You were supposed to have met me in the practice field over an hour ago!"

"I'm so sorry! I did forget! Can... can this wait, Ralof? I am kind of in the middle of…" Solene trailed off as Ralof covered his arms and looked down at her with a disapproving glare.

"I thought you wanted to be a dragon slayer and help Skyrim."

"I do… but-"

"No, but's Solene! A warrior must prioritize what's important. Your training should come before anything else. You're a Dragonborn for Talos' sake! You wanted to fight dragons and the Thalmor and just how do you expect to do that? What is it that you have to do that is _so_ important?"

Solene was prioritizing. The deaths of the women of Windhelm was not something that should be ignored. "I was…" Solene stopped herself. She had to be very careful. Jorleif gave her permission, but she was also asked to keep it from Ulfric as he would disapprove. Ralof would most likely disapprove of it too and what's worse, probably tell Ulfric about it as well. Solene bowed her head in mock shame. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Ralof sighed and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's hard being on your own with so much responsibility. You've been forced into a life you never asked for and it's all new to you. You've just got to keep your head on straight in order to get through this."

Solene nodded. She just had to play along and wait until she had free time again. Though she had to admit Ralof was right. While, investigating these murders were important, she had to make time in her life to continue her training. She also briefly entertained the thought of her training paying off whilst catching the Butcher.


	12. Chapter 12: A Dark Ritual

Solene woke in the morning with purpose. She had the day off from training after nearly besting Ralof with her new daggers. She was exceedingly proud of herself knowing that if she had made use of the Voice, she could have beaten him. She was however, unsure of how much actual effort the soldier put into the test. She would find out tomorrow when she trains with Ulfric again. She knew he would not hold back.

Today, her efforts would be focused on the Butcher. She made her way downstairs to seek out Tova Shatter-Shield in hopes of gaining access to Hjerim. She was soon sidetracked by a commotion in the main hall. People had gathered there, hearing of an approaching rider from the west. Solene quickly joined them in their excitement, hoping to see Einar returned safely. Ulfric caught sight of her as she exited the war room and he waved her over to stand next to him.

The massive doors to the great hall burst open and a cold wind billowed in as a lone soldier strolled into the palace. Solene could sense a tension in Ulfric at seeing only one soldier return. Solene felt nothing but relief that the lone soldier was indeed Einar.

"You come alone?" called Ulfric, impatient to hear any news of his old friend and his quest.

"I come bearing a message from Galmar in Korvanjund," replied the young soldier, bending down on one knee as he reached the steps of Ulfric's throne.

"What news? Is everything alright?"

"Galmar sends word that you owe him a drink, my Lord," he said, pulling a crown made of bone from his bag.

Ulfric's eyes wrinkled with laughter as he shot up from his throne, descended the steps, and pulled Einar up to his feet. "Damn that old bear!" he cried with a laugh. "Did you run into any trouble?"

"Nothing we couldn't handle," he replied, basking in the good cheer of his Lord and idol.

"That's the spirit! I'll get all the details from Galmar when he gets back. I'm sure it will make for an interesting, albeit embellished story. For now, rest. You have earned it."

The crowd dispersed, whispering excitedly about the jagged crown and Ulfric himself left for the war room. Solene descended the steps and embraced Einar. "I'm so glad to see you back safe!"

Einar embraced her for a few moments before pulling back with a smile. "I must admit I was glad that Galmar had asked me to return with haste. I was ready to leave the cold behind and get back home. I missed you," he whispered.

Solene would have blushed if not for the memory of their last discussion reminding her of their complicated future. "You have a day off. It just so happens that I do too. What shall we do?" she asked with a smile. She knew that she would have to balance training and the investigation with her other duties. She truly did miss Einar and she couldn't bring herself to feel guilty for wanting to spend the day with him. She did after all help Thora discover new information in one day whereas the guards had gotten nowhere in months.

"How about an official tour of Windhelm?"

Solene smiled and tried to bite down the thoughts of seeing more of Windhelm than she truly ever wished. She soon realized that she could in fact make herself feel guilty for putting off the investigation. She had no idea when Ulfric would send Einar off again and with Einar's quest to become one of Ulfric's trusted officers, she was certain that Einar himself would ensure that it would be sooner rather than later. She wrapped her arm around his and leaned into his side. "I would love a tour."

Einar led her through the historic Windhelm, explaining to her how the city was built as a palace for Ysgramor himself and how kings of old ruled Skyrim from behind these obsidian walls. She had to admit, she did love the history and she couldn't deny the general awe of standing in a place so old, knowing that the time she has spent here is but a speck of dust in the vast memory of the ancient stones that legendary hands had built.

She guided Einar away from the graveyard protesting with a false squeamishness at lingering near the dead. Einar had tried to change tact and show her the strange museam of Calixto Corrium, and while she was interested both in the museam and in his ties to the murder a few nights ago, she did not wish to discuss the murder with Einar and what's more, she did not want him to know of her involvement in the case. She wanted his help if he could provide it, but she was also worried about him trying to convince her to stay away from the case and not draw attention to herself. It was true that this city spread rumors like wildfire and people would talk as she asked more questions.

Solene sighed. She could not enjoy herself while three women lay rotting in the ground. As much as she liked to pretend it was some higher and noble purpose that caused her distress, she knew that her stubborn persistence in this case was more personal. Women were losing their lives to unknown or petty reasons. She knew the parallels weren't at all aligned, but somehow she felt that she could redeem herself if she could stop this killer. She had hoped to find some forgiveness for the deaths of Frotti and her parents. She refused to let any excuses stop her from helping this time.

She felt a small pang of guilt as she pulled on his arm. "Einar..."

"You're mind is elsewhere," he concluded, running the back of two fingers across her cheek. "What's wrong?"

"I don't really have the day off," she said looking down.

Einar smirked. "Ever the dutiful Solene."

"You're not upset?"

"How could I be upset with you for being nothing more than what you are."

Solene smiled at him and kissed his cheek. "Thank you. I promise we'll finish that tour later," she said pulling away.

Einar grasped her arm. "Solene, do you need help?"

She thought of it for a few moments, then shook her head. "I can manage on my own." She pulled in again and kissed him on the lips. "Where will I find you?"

"Where you can always find me to share your burdens at the end of the day," he said with a smirk, pulling her back in for another kiss.

Solene could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks and she didn't want to let go. Part of her chided her for lying to him and part of her whined over leaving him so early in the day, but she had to do this. She pulled away with a sad smile.

Einar ran his thumb against her bottom lip and frowned. "What is it, Solene?" She pulled her face from his grasp and looked away. Einar nodded and stepped out from under the shadow of the building. "Tonight then."

Einar left for the barracks, leaving Solene in the street. She wished he would join her, but she knew his priorities and hers wouldn't align. He would try to protect her and the Butcher would continue his terror. She steeled herself against her guilt. This was more important right now.

Solene found Tova Shatter-Shield in her home down the way from Hjerim. The victim's sister, Nilsine directed her upstairs where she found the forlorn woman sitting in front of the fire with her husband. The silence exuding from the couple was oppressive. Solene remained at the stairs and cleared her throat. The couple turned to look at her.

"I'm sorry, dear. We didn't hear you come up. I've been a bit out of sorts since... since our daughter was taken from us."

"I am terribly sorry for your loss, and even more so to have to bring it up again, but I have some questions about your daughter."

Tova shook her head. "I'm sorry. She was very dear to me, and it's rather painful to think about. I'd rather not talk about my daughter. If you'll excuse me," she said getting up out of her chair.

Solene took a step forward. Tova stopped in her path to her bedroom and her husband stood from his chair. Solene stepped back and wrung her hands. "I am trying to find who did this to her. I was hoping you'd help."

Tova stayed frozen in her spot. Her face contorted in pain and she couldn't stop the tear from falling down her cheek. "Well... all right. What exactly do you need to know?" She asked, walking back into the room and joined her husband, standing in his arms.

"I'd actually like to investigate her house, but I'll need the key."

"Hjerim? Well, I'm not sure what you think you'll find there, but you're welcome to have a look," she said pulling on the twine around her neck. She pulled the key from her bosom and handed it to Solene.

"Thank you. I promise you, I won't stop until I find him."

Tova gave Solene a sad smile. "Don't make such promises, dear. Especially ones that are the most painful to break. We have heard such promises before and still have not found peace." Tova approached Solene and grabbed both of her hands in hers. "Please do be careful. Do not be another scar on someone else's heart like my Friga is on mine," she said, tears flowing freely now. Tova gripped Solene's hands with a crushing fierceness.

Somewhat afraid, Solene nodded slowly and whispered, "I will." Tova nodded and turned, joining her husband in their dark bedroom.

Solene gripped the key in her hand and ran outside. When she got outside, she turned and looked back up at the house. Pain formed a thick aura around the house and Solene thought for a moment she could have choked on it. She looked down at the key in her hand and turned towards Hjerim, up the steps. She slowly approached the house, glanced at the key again before inserting it into the door. The lock clicked and Solene pushed against the blood-crusted wood.

The house was dark nearly empty. It looked as though no one had been here in months. Except for the blood staining the floor. Solene followed the drops and splashes to a chest up against the wall. There were scratches in the wood showing that the chest had been dragged there recently and the floor showed evidence of blood both old and fresh. Solene was a little terrified of opening the chest. Body parts had gone missing and she was almost certain that is what she would find as soon as she opened the lid.

Solene breathed out a sigh as she noticed a pile of fliers both stacked and crumpled into balls inside the chest. She picked up a flier and read it.

**Beware the Butcher!**

**The killer who haunts the streets of Windhelm!**

**These calamitous times bring out the worst in people, don't become the next victim!**

**See Viola Giordano if you spot any suspicious behavior.**

The killer was tearing Viola's fliers off the walls in the streets and hoarding them here. Solene resolved to talk with Viola about this. She also considered warning her. It seems that Viola's warnings had not gone unnoticed. She sifted through the other papers to see if there were different fliers, but she soon noticed red leather at the bottom. She pulled out an old leather-bound book and sat on the floor.

The opened the book and began reading. It was a journal, _his_ journal. On the very first page he speaks of plans in which he sought to acquire bone, flesh, and blood, but for what he did not yet say. She kept reading, feeling sick as he recounted how he had stalked Susanna, his latest victim. He mentioned his time spent in Winterhold and the college. Her face paled as she read about the 'flesh magic' the killer was trying to perform.

Solene tucked the journal into her bag. She knew she had stumbled onto something incredibly important and yet dangerous. Whoever this killer is, he is either incredibly cunning or completely insane. But it wasn't enough. It only told her a partial motive. She needed more. She was standing in the killers lair. She had to find more. She walked into a storage room with wardrobes still alone the walls and a small shelf with more fliers strewn about. She noticed a beaded strand hanging down from one of the shelves, beneath a pile of papers. She pulled on it and a heavy amulet slipped out. It was an ebony amulet with a worn green rock in the center. She had no idea what it was, but she knew it was important. Solene hurried back to the palace to update Jorleif on the investigation.

She found him sitting at the long table in the main hall. He looked up to her in greeting, but his words stopped short as he saw the pale look on her face. Solene headed straight for the kitchens, Jorleif following behind.

"What is it, my Lady? What has happened?"

"This is getting dangerous fast. I found these," she said handing him the pile of fliers.

Jorleif made a face and refused to take them from her hand. "Ugh. Have you been talking to Viola? She keeps posting these fliers all over the city and someone keeps taking them down. Ask her about it if you want an earful."

"They're being taken down alright. Guess where I found these? In a bloody chest at the end of a trail of evidence from the crime scene!"

Jorleif paled. "The killer took these?"

"Yes! While she has been ignored by though who are supposed to protect this city, the one who haunts it has been listening!"

"You should go talk to her then and see what she knows. I will send a guard to watch over her. Though it'll have to be from afar since she doesn't trust us."

Solene crumpled the fliers in her hand and threw them at his feet. "And you wonder why..." She stalked out of the palace in a fury. She couldn't believe how easy it was for her to find evidence and how little the court was doing to protect the women of this city.

She decided to find Viola and warn her herself. It wasn't hard to find her. She was standing in the middle of the street with more fliers, handing them out to everyone passing by, shouting at passers-by to beware the butcher.

Solene approached and accepted the flier from the woman. "Be on the lookout! The Butcher could be around any corner."

"What can you tell me about him?"

Viola's eyes lit up with excitement. "I've been following him for months now. Well, not actually following. Trying to find him. The guards won't help. The people won't help. I'm the only one who thinks he can be caught."

"You aren't alone anymore, Viola. I found this in the killer's lair," she said showing her the journal.

"Huh? What's it say?" she cried trying to grab it.

"It sounds like a mage experimenting with dark magic."

"Wuunferth. There have been rumors swirling about him for years. As long as I can remember. But he's a dangerous man. It's why they call him 'the Unliving.' I wouldn't approach him directly. This information needs to go directly to the steward. He'll listen to you."

Solene nodded. "I will, but one more thing, Viola. You've spent months 'following' the killer, but in reality he's been following you. I found your fliers along with his journal. Please be careful."

Viola laughed. "Just let him try to come for me. In fact, I hope he does! Then I can give him a real piece of my mind!"

"Viola, he has killed three women, this isn't-"

"And there won't be a fourth!" interrupted Viola with a growl. She stalked away, allowing for no more conversation.

Once again, Solene headed for the palace. She sighed, not knowing what to do. She couldn't really accuse the court wizard without proof and all she had was a journal that could really belong to anyone. She decided to go talk to him despite Viola's warnings. Wuunferth was loyal to Ulfric and he wouldn't do anything to the Jarl's ward in the midst of soldiers and guards.

Solene first sidetracked to the barracks and pulled Thora aside from her dinner. "I need you to come with me. I'd like to talk to the wizard about magic."

Thora smirked. "That old crow scares everyone." Then her eyes narrowed. "Why would you want to speak with him about magic?"

"I found evidence that the killer is trying to perform some sort of flesh magic. I need to either clear Wuunferth or get his advice."

"You're going to accuse Wuunferth?!" cried Thora. "Are you mad? Do you have a death wish? What if he is the killer? Do you think having me there will help protect you, protect us? And even if he isn't the killer, do you even understand how angry that will make him?"

"Look, I'm not entirely convinced Wuunferth is behind all this and if he isn't he won't do anything to jeopardize his relationship with Ulfric. I would like you to come with me, but I am just as fine with going myself," she said, leaving.

Thora chased after her and growled in her ear when she caught up. "You play a dangerous game, Dragonborn."

"Someone has to to put a stop to these murders."

Wuunferth was in his room bent over an enchanting table working on a sword for Ulfric. Solene walked into the room, knowing he was well aware of her presence. She waited.

"I don't have all day to appease gawkers, girl. What is it you want."

Solene couldn't think of any other way to approach him than the one her mind screamed at her not to do. She couldn't allow him to reason his way out of it though. She had to go for surprise. "I heard you like to dabble in necromancy," she said, trying to sound firm.

"I beg your pardon?" he demanded, completely offended. Thora grabbed Solene's arm and pulled her back, muttering apologies to the mage. "Necromancy! I am a member of the College of Winterhold, in good standing! They haven't allowed necromancy in hundreds of years!"

She knew now he wasn't the killer, but he was so offended, he wouldn't help her unless it was to clear his own name. She pressed on. "I found one of your journals, all about necromancy."

"My what now? I've never kept a journal I can assure you. So thats it?" He barked a laugh. "What, no spell books, no talismans, no tools?!"

"There was an amulet," she offered.

Wuunferth's rage quieted. "What exactly did this amulet look like?"

"Eight-sided ebony with a center of jade. It had a worn carving that I couldn't make out."

Wuunferth nodded. "I know it well. Or at least I've heard of it," he quickly corrected. "I would wager that carving once depicted a skull. That is the Necromancer's amulet, a legend. It appears you were at least half right. There is necromancy at work here."

"So will you help us? What can we do now?"

"I've been noting a pattern to when the killings happen. Now that we know they're tied in to some necromantic ritual, I think I know when the next might occur." He turned to his books and flipped through the dusty pages of an old tome. "Let's see. From the Loredas of Last Seed until a Middas of Hearthfire... It will happen soon. Very soon. Keep watch in the Stone Quarter when the moon rises tonight. That's almost certain when the killer will strike!"

"Moonrise?!" cried Thora. "That's right now!"

Wuunferth went over to his tiny window. "Huh. So it is. Then you best hurry."

Thora and Solene sprinted out of the room and pushed the patrolling guard into the wall of the stone halls. They stumbled down the steps together and out into the great hall ignoring the protests of those in their way, one including Einar.

Solene pulled ahead of Thora as she sprinted through the snow. Her lung burned, but she had never been so close to stopping death. Finally, pain was in her hands to stop and she had to stop it. She rounded the corner and saw the stalls past the steps. It was dark and there were very few people left for the evening. She spotted Viola looking at the high elf's stall and noticed a man approaching her stealthily. Solene knew in her gut that she was about to witness Viola's murder.

"Viola, run!" she screamed at the top of her lungs as she ran up the steps into the stone quarter.

Viola turned with a gasp to confront the man, but his blade managed to plunge into her abdoman. The man turned his head slightly to view Solene running in his periphery and he took off for the graveyard. Thora caught up and kneeled down by Viola, calling for a priest and pressing her bloody hands into the woman's stomach.

"Solene! Go get a healer!"

Solene looked to a guard and pointed at him. "You! Get a healer, now!" She turned to Thora. "The killer is getting away! Save her, I'll go after him!"

"Solene, no!" Solene didn't listen as she took off for the graveyard. "Solene!"

She raced to the graveyard and caught sight of him bounding back up the steps towards Candlehearth Hall. She half expected him to head towards Hjerim, but she didn't have time to question. She raced after him and found him climbing the wall next to the Aretino residence.

Solene skidded to a stop in the ice and took a deep breath. "FUS RO DAH!" Her shout his the Butcher in the back as he reached the top of the wall and he flung forward out of view. Solene ran around the path leading to the house and couldn't find the killer. She approached the opposite wall he climbed and looked over to see if he had been flung to the other side. She leaned over to get a view of the street when she heard snow crunch behind her. She stood up straight to turn, but a pain shot through her body, beginning at the back of her neck then ran down her spine as she blacked out.

* * *

Solene awoke in a dim room with no windows. The only source of light came from a nearby candelabra and candles spread out across a stone table. She looked around the room. At her feet, blood and bones were spread across the floor. She heard a dripping sound and turned to the stone table. Dark liquid fell from the sides in large, heavy drops.

She got to her feet slowly, wincing at the pain on the back of her head and the heavy rush of dreariness sweeping her mind. She gently fingered the angry bump at the back of her head and spun slowly to face the table. When she took in the sight her knees gave out and she collapsed on the floor, her stomach flipping violently and she wretched.

On the table lay the body of a woman who appeared to have been dismembered and stitched back together. Solene recognized the face for her twin sister wanders the streets of Windhelm with the same blank expression. She had found The Butcher's true lair, but instead of her catching him, he seemed to have caught her.

Solene looked around for a way out but there were no doors and the only thing that looked like a viable exit was a large piece of wood with no catch or handle. She knocked on it and heard it was hollow, but when she pressed it would not give.

The silent, bemused eyes that watched her finally alighted as a chuckle left her captor's lips. "Good morning, Dragonborn."

Solene turned with a start, her back pressed firmly against the wood. She knew it! "Calixto."

"Yes," he cooed, picking up the curved embalming tool. It more closely resembled a jagged scythe. "Me."

"How-"

"Do I know that are you Dragonborn?" He shook his head and tsked at her. "Legends and rumor are my stock and trade, my dear. Once I heard, I just knew I had to have your blood. Can you imagine? My Lucilla with the blood of the dragon bringing her spirit back to life. The power she will have. Then," he added with a gleeful smirk, pointing the blade at Solene, "you walked into my beautiful work with Susanna. One look at your face and I knew." He spun and swung the tool down on the body on the stone table. Friga Shatter-Shield's head dropped from the table and rolled across the floor. "Perfect."

Solene looked around in terror. If she was locked in here with him then there had to be a way out. Then she saw it. On the wall to her left was a lever. She had no idea if it'd work but she had to try. She felt her muscles coil as she readied to lunge. Calixto sensed it and his gaze followed her. The two lunged together. Solene willed herself to reach, to stretch, but she fell short with the Butcher quite literally on her heels.

He recovered first. He got to his knees, crawled towards her and flipped her over before sitting on her abdomen, locking her arms beneath his knees. He grabbed her face in one hand painfully squeezing her cheeks. Her lips were puckered together and her teeth ached from his steely grip. He stared at her for many long moments, brushing her hair out of her face with his free hand. Then he lunged at her. His kiss was hard and crushing. His fingers squeezed even harder into her cheeks as his tongue slithered into her mouth, exploring.

Just as it had begun, it ended. He shot back up and looked down upon her with a crazed expression. His eyes burned and his bottom lip quivered as his nose twitched. "Perfect, indeed," he decreed, keeping his hold on her face and let his other hand wander down her neck to her bosom, appreciating every curve. "Perhaps when I've taken your head and your heart I will test out the rest of you. See what I want to keep," he said matter-of-fact. He brought his hand back up to her neck as he reached for the blade next to him with the other.

Solene saw her chance when he removed his hand from her mouth and acted quick. She drew in a deep breath and shouted as the blade came down through her neck. She experienced a quick disorienting moment in which she believed she was dead but the blade was stuck in the floorboards, very real in the middle of her ethereal neck. She got up, moving through Calixto and reached for the lever. Her hand went through it. She knew better than to try. There was no way out. In this state she could not be harmed but she could not interact with anything either, and her shout was still too weak without the other Words for her to pass through barriers such as a wall.

So Solene stood and waited. Calixto also got to his feet and waited for her body to become corporeal again. The insane glint in his eye only worsened with his anger of being denied. This was the moment that she had truly been preparing for. She could feel a tingling sensation in her hands and feet first. Her skin felt like it was stretching as she returned back to her original form. She took in a breath and shouted, "FUS!" The shorter Shout was weaker, but it gave Calixto less time to react. He stumbled back into the stone table and she slammed the lever down and the wood pulled to the side to reveal two small doors.

Calixto launched himself off the table to stand in front of the doors before Solene sprinted for them, slamming her body into him. They burst through the doors and stumbled onto the floor of the storage room where she had found the amulet. She wrestled for the blade in his hand, grinning like mad as she felt purchase from his hand.

She gasped at the pain in her side when his fist rapped her ribs. He threw her off of him, the blade clattering into the main hall. He pulled her back to him as he climbed on top of her, clamping his hands around her throat and cutting off her air. Her head felt full and heavy and thinking became harder. She trained with daggers and her voice and neither were available to her. She suddenly felt angry, yes with the Butcher, but also with herself. She had been foolish and childish and here she was now, fighting for her life, and she was not ready.

She felt pain behind her eyes as she lifted her hands from Calixto's wrists to his face. She tried slapping him, but he would just shake his head away from her. She placed her hands on the sides of his face and held on as tightly as she could as she dug her thumbs in his eyes. Calixto began to scream and pull away, but she held on tight. When he let go of her throat to grab his face, she took in a big gulp of air and shoved him off of her. She wouldn't attempt a shout right now with her head spinning and her throat burning.

She crawled into the main room for the embalming tool, but she was stopped short and fell to her stomach as Calixto reached out for her ankle. He pulled at her and crawled up her body. She turned back to look at him with blood seeping through one socket, and another red, angry eye glaring at her. She turned back for the blade, reaching at he tried to pull her back. She kicked at him and he rolled off of her. She lunged for the blade and cried as her fingers touched the metal.

Calixto cried out at the top of his lungs as he toppled over her, pulling her head up by her hair and slamming her head into the wood flooring. When she found a moment of clarity, she thrust her head back and struck Calixto.

He moaned and grabbed his face again while she seized the moment and spun, sending him tumbling off her back. She rammed her elbows into his chest and brought her forearms down and rammed the embalming tool into his throat. His eyes bulged and he gripped the blade, his fingers splitting open as he struggled to pull out the blade. Blood bubbled up at his mouth and Solene squirmed to get away from him. She had killed bandits and draugr, but it had never been this personal before. Solene crawled across the floor and gripped the leg of one of the left-behind benches, and watched him sputter and gasp. After several minutes of stillness, Solene finally let go of the bench and slowly made her way back to the palace.

When she approached the entrance, a guard opened the door for her and another guard slipped in before her running towards the throne. As she walked in, she watched him approach the group standing before the steps of the throne and all at once their hands snapped in her direction. She cringed as she took in the worried faces of Thora, Ulfric, Jorleif, Galmar, and Einar.

"Where have you been?" ordered Ulfric approaching her.

"Hjerim," rasped Solene.

Ulfric's expression changes as his gaze slipped to the red, angry marks on her throat. "What happened?" He pulled her over to the table and sat her down.

"I'm sorry, Solene. You promised you wouldn't put yourself in danger and when you ran off, and I couldn't chase you, I had to tell him," babbled Thora.

Ulfric turned to glare at Jorleif and Thora. "We'll discuss that later. What actually happened?"

"The Butcher... It was Calixto. He was only after Viola to silence her. He really wanted me. Don't blame them, Ulfric. It didn't matter in the end. All he needed were the rumors that I was Dragonborn, then when he saw me... He said I looked like Lucilla."

Jorleif's brow furrowed. "His dead sister?"

Solene nodded, but not without cringing. "He was trying to bring her back with necromancy. He thought my blood would make the spell more powerful."

Ulfric shook his head. "Regardless of his interest in you, you didn't have to make matters worse by seeking him out on your own. You are a ward of my court, not some soldier or mercenary. You shouldn't have been involved in the first place."

"And if I didn't get involved then he would still be alive or worse, I wouldn't be." She looked down at the floor. "I killed him," she whispered.

Ulfric sighed and pulled her to her feet. He gripped both of her hands gently in his. "You're safe and it's over, and our city is safer. Thank you, Solene."

Solene looked up and smiled at Ulfric. She wrapped him in a hug he was not entirely prepared for. Slowly he returned the gesture and pat her back. He pulled back and gave her a small smile. "Get yourself some rest, we will send in a healer tomorrow to help you recover. Einar, Galmar, stay with me. We have matters to discuss."

Solene nodded and looked over to Einar who gazed back to her with hurt, angry, and worry in his eyes. Solene slowly made her way upstairs, listening to those left behind discuss Whiterun. She hoped that they would be done soon and that Einar wasn't too upset with her to not come see her.

She waited in her room. Changed out of her armor and into a light green dress. She went through her bag and put things away. When her hand pulled the red leather book out of her bag, she froze and stared at it. Her hand began to shake so she dropped it on the table and hid under the furs of her bed.

It didn't take too long for the conversation to end. She heard Ulfric trudge up to his room and Galmar crash on his bed across the hall. She sat up in her bed and stared at the fire, waiting on Einar. Several minutes had passed and she gave up. She slipped back under the furs and kept watching the fire, her eyes brimming with tears.

She didn't notice her door slip open, but she did feel a weight press down onto her bed at her feet. She sat up and faced Einar. "I thought you weren't coming."

Einar shook his head. "I may be angry with you, but after tonight not even Ulfric or Talos himself would keep me away. We just have to be careful when we meet. We don't want to raise suspicions of any untoward behavior."

"We aren't doing anything untoward."

Einar gave her a withering look. "We spent weeks alone before coming here and when I am here with you, we spend a good portion of the evening in your room. You've seen how fast rumors spread."

How could Solene forget. It had made her a target. "I have."

Einar's expression softened. "I'm sorry." He wrapped her in a hug and rubbed her back. "Ulfric was right though. What you did was dangerous." When Solene opened her mouth to protest, Einar continued quickly. "Not that you shouldn't have gotten involved. I just mean that you shouldn't have kept it from me. I could have helped you."

"I figured you'd just try to stop me."

Einar sighed. "You're right, I probably would have."

"You cants protect me forever, you know."

Einar held her tighter and laid down with her still in his arms. "I know. How are you doing? After tonight?"

Solene shrugged. "I've killed men before. This was different though. I don't think I remember being so scared and so angry. I've never felt murder become so personal," she said with a hitch in her voice.

Einar grabbed her chin and made her look up at him. "What you did was not murder. You were protecting yourself and protecting the city." He pulled forward and kissed her forehead. "You were forced to fight for your life, on your own with no one to rely on. This wasn't some bandit that you picked off at a distance with my help or some draugr, a nightmare you can prepare yourself for. How can we react when the nightmare lays buried in someone you know? It's unexpected and it can be terrifying. You did well, Solene."

"It doesn't feel like it."

He pulled her into his chest and rubbed her back. "It will get easier."

"What if I don't want it to?"

Einar felt his heart break. He had wished many nights to hear those words. To hear her give up on her fate and run away, but he knew that she couldn't do that. So much rested on her. "As much as I would love to let you do that, we can't. I wish I could take this burden from you, but I can't. I can't protect your from your own fate, but I can at least help you. It will get easier, and who it doesn't, I promise I will be there to carry you."

"Thank you," she whispered into his chest as she cried herself to sleep, images of Calixto's bloody face stuck behind her eyelids.


End file.
