She was exhausted again, Rowan, the unforeseen savior of Tamriel, was trying to stay awake after another fitful sleep. She looked for anything to hold her attention, but she'd seen the view of tall green pines and the vast golden plains of Whiterun hold dozens of times. Out of desperation, she considered naming the stones along the path since she'd already counted them all on a previous venture under similar circumstances. Now I've gone mad, she thought.

"You're slow this morning. What's the matter? Tired?" Her companion, Kaidan said. She stared at the back of his head tasting his mockery like a flat mead. Though he looked forward, she could picture the cocky grin he had a habit of doing when he was rude to others when they rightfully deserved it. She took notice he'd already tied his raven hair back in the brown leather strap as he'd done every morning since their meeting. Kaidan was, after all, a man of great pride in the way of appearance and skill, but not much could be said for how he handled his emotions. The tired fog in her mind thinned as she thought of the past three days between them like she had all night. He was at least speaking to her even if it was full of contempt.

"Just cursed," she said.

"You don't say. Let me guess. The wolf keep you up again?"

"Doesn't it always?"

"Well, I wouldn't be lying if I said only the truly mad choose a curse like that." Rowan rolled her eyes. He didn't understand, but then again no one truly did except people like her. Yes, the beast blood made her tired and sometimes irate, but it was necessary the four years prior as a hired fist-so to speak-and even more so in her new calling. It lent strength, heightened her senses, and helped her become resistant to illnesses. In a harsh land like Skyrim, it was more a blessing than a curse, and most- including her forbearer-saw it the same.

"We are close, right?" She asked changing the topic. Kaidan didn't stop or turn around, but he answered.

"Yes." And said nothing more. Rowan simply nodded to herself. She couldn't blame him for being upset, but she hated the tension. They journeyed from the bogs of Morthal, and the nearly three-day trek to Riverwood had been full of constant complaining and bickering between them. He treated her as if she was helpless, though she almost preferred that over his insulting comments. He expressed discontent for the lack of focus she showed at the ruin of Ustangrav while they were on their task, and she argued that she didn't need his opinion any more than she needed his help. His attitude changed since that comment, but she knew all too well those words stung worse than a bee. The truth was had he not been there the wound that carved up her back would've rendered her from walking or fighting her way out of that crypt and so on. She wasn't careful, there was no denying that, but she allowed her wounded pride to get the better of her.

The cold air stung her throat making her wheeze while the itch of her scabbing wound crawled under her sweat dampened skin. "Gods I hate the cold," she said adjusting her white fur lined hood. Kaidan only scoffed as if to say welcome to Skyrim or stop complaining. He had a point, either way, Skyrim was a land of the great brooding Nords that adapted to the cold long ago. It was as fierce as it was cold and truly not a land for the faint of heart. As her father once said, "Child, in a land where everyone knows the sword learn the same then become a master and live."

Riverwood came into view as they turned on the winding mountain path, and the small hold seemed alive. The streets were busy with people coming and going between the run-down shops and inn. It happened every now and then however she'd never seen it like this. Riverwood was small enough that the jarl of the hold hadn't even bothered to pave the roads. The small town was often described as being accommodating to drifters where the bigger cities were not. Drifters like her and Kaidan; who'd hardly ever trusted another soul. The man that stuck by her side despite his obvious malice. Now she realized this was more than just spitting mean things at someone. With a roll of her eyes Rowan swallowed her pride and tapped him lightly on his shoulder.

"Kai, I'm...sorry. I didn't mean what I said," she said softly. "It wasn't right by you. I deserve it if you still don't wish to speak to me though." She heard him sigh and watched his shoulders slump before he faced her. She felt the flutter of anticipation for him to finally speak even if it was scorning her as one would scorn a child.

"That's only part of the reason why I am upset with you. You were reckless in the ruin, and not only that, you got hurt. Then brushed it off like you didn't notice the puddle of blood." He paused rubbing his tired eyes then went on. "You don't care for yourself, and it's upsetting. Something had you distracted. And I don't care about your words Row, but I'll not stand here and see you throw yourself aside. Look...I care for you, and I don't know. I can't keep seeing you like this. I know you miss her, but she wouldn't want you being risky like this." Rowan looked down at her boots and felt the guilt hit her like a dragon's tail. She was distracted; there was no point in denying that. Regret and mourning still filled her heart, and she loathed the weight it put in her breast more than any amount of cuts placed by her enemies. Those six months passed slowly, since the mysterious death of someone she not only cared deeply for but loved. And he'd been there with her through the sleepless nights, the tears, and the drunken times that were sloppy, to say the least. He was her best friend, and she'd betrayed him in the way of forgetting that fact.

"Those damn Dragur come out of nowhere sometimes. Don't you think?" She smiled then continued when his face remained in a stern frown. "It wasn't intentional Kai I know my tendencies, I need to work on it better. Truth is running into those situations helps, and I don't mind the pain that sometimes follows, but it isn't fair to you, and I'm grateful you stick around. I'm sorry. Truely I am. You deserve a better friend, but can you forgive me?" Kaidan grinned but looked off into the distance then shook his head on letting a half smile curve on his lips.

"Kai I will get on my knees and sing my apology if I have to," she warned.

"You are many things Rowan, but a performer isn't one of them. I don't think you have the stones," He said. Rowan squinted her eyes at him, he was calling her bluff, but if that day was the day for some to know the Dragonborn was not talented in the arts then so be it. She got down on one knee, taking his hand in hers, and took a deep breath.

"Alright.. alright get up before you embarrass yourself." They shared a laugh has Rowan pulled him close.

"I'm... sorry Kai. I don't know how you put up with me," she said sweetly.

"I pray.. a lot," he said hugging her tighter as she continued to chuckle. Though the moment was sweet, she almost wished she'd waited until they were alone. Rowan had unintentionally locked eyes with a man leaning on the stone wall not far from them. His head was covered with a bearskin pelt, and not even that could take the focus from his rounded nose or the cut down his cheek. He looked like he'd slept in the dirt and smelling like something died with a hint of ale. The man grinned at her and leaned to his shorter, bald friend and pointed at her. He turned and despite his hungry glare what held her attention was the green tinted tattoo on his neck. It depicted a mountain symbol she'd seen before among bandits when she lived with her wolf kin. It meant his clan resided in the hills behind Whiterun's dragon reach or in the forests of the Rift to the east. If she recalled correctly, every bandit clan had their own mark, but these ones, in particular, often worked alongside werewolf hunters known as the Silver Hand.

Rowan walked on then deciding it was better to ignore them lest there was more lurking about somewhere. Her attention turned to the stairs as her wolf awoke to the world. The smell of the hold was the first thing that tingled her senses from the scent of the smithy to the freshly baked bread coming from the inn and something else, something familiar. Firewood, pine, and pungent male musk which smelt sweeter than most to her. At that moment her attention was back to the road. The sounds came next from the intense rhythm of mud smacking under steps to the giggle of children. She heard the spontaneous halt of one, but couldn't see him. It had been a week since the last time his distinctive scent cut through her focus.

"What is it?" Kaidan asked.

"The stocker apparently found his way to me again," she said lightly. Kaidan, however, didn't find this game as entertaining. In moments like this, he thanked all Gods and Deadra for Rowan's protections and curses then damned them because she was far too light with potential danger. Three times she'd mentioned this person whoever they are and at first, it didn't matter. He was used to the occasional curiosity of others, but now the mention of him sent a surge of anger through his body. He looked into the crowd wanting to find him and confront the stranger for good, but he saw nothing she had described before. According to her, he wore a black hood and leathers to match. She hadn't seen his face either and only could go off his scent. That didn't settle well in Kaidan either, whoever the stranger was he seemed to be going through great effort to hide from them. That seemed to be happening more as of late including the 'friend' they were about to meet. Silently he warned the stranger to keep his distance if he was smart and looked back to Rowan. She looked at him with drooping eyes and dark circles under them. Her face was sullen with a lopsided smile. This journey had not been kind to her in the slightest, and it showed. The lack of sleep was no good, and spellcasters at nearly every turn made it especially tasking. Magika was another thing he wouldn't understand, and Skyrim was ripe with it. Rowan could go on for hours about the energy of Atherius or the similarities in Alchemy to the power of Magic. She made it sound like a grace given by the gods, but all he saw was the destruction of abused power, but he knew she would bounce back; she always did.

"Let's move on. I don't like this," he said walking ahead of her.

"Kai don't over think it. I can handle things too. Besides if he hasn't dared to approach me by now, he never will."

"I am aware you can handle yourself fine, but I don't have to like it when others gawk at you. You might be Dragonborn, but that doesn't mean you deserve this kind of attention." He could only look inward at that comment as he swung the squeaking door open waiting for her to walk through. He knew more than a few times he pictured her under him with her dark hair sprawled on the pillow and all the times he stared into her eyes only to find himself longing, but as time went on, he felt ashamed. She no longer was the woman he was in debt to. She was Rowan, kind-hearted, funny and fierce Rowan. When he looked at her, he saw the life of her eyes one a lighter brown than the other, he saw her slightly pointed ears and loved them and often called them cute because it would make her smile and he would never complain about her smile.

Rowan remained silent while she looked him over. He looked like he'd kicked a pup as his eyes trailed the floor, but she knew he wouldn't answer if she asked what troubled him. Even after all the seasons they traveled together he always replied, "I'll be fine in the morning." When she walked into the tavern, the warmth of the fire tended to her cold hands and face. Rowan wouldn't have minded standing there for a moment longer, but it was business this time.

"The letter said to ask for an attic room," she said. The inn also wasn't the exception of the buzzing streets. Almost all the seats were filled including the bar with the familiar face of the barkeep. He looked overwhelmed as he frantically swept the dirt from the wooden floor. His brown hair unusually a mess and his face covered in scruff. He wiped the sweat from his brow before picking a tray of mixed vegetables and walked through the crowd to the cauldron.

"Hey, Orgnar. What's going on?" Rowan asked

"Busy huh? I can't complain we've made more money this month alone than we have in years." He said with a smile.

"But why?"

"Helgen. People from all over to see the ruins. Some are even going on about becoming dragon hunters with all the sightings. Even Jarls paying for it too."

"Idiots," Kaidan said shaking his head

"That might be, but if business keeps up like this, I could retire a very happy man."

"Can't imagine Jarl Balgruuf minding the money either," she said softly.

"I'm just the barkeep, Delphine gives more than I could anyhow."

"Orgnar!" A woman called. "Hurry up and feel the barrels meads running low."

"Speakin of the devil," he said. "Yeah yeah hold your horses! I'm comin! By the gods... I'll see you later Rowan watch yourself out there."

She hardly acknowledged his goodbye. Her mind crowded with pictures of people marveling at the sight of a destroyed Helgen. What was there to admire? She recalled that day more and more it seemed. Everything happened so fast, but the details became more prominent. The blood, screaming, and look of the bodies as she ran. Kaidan walked in front of her then lifting her chin to meet her eyes. Though he was silent she nodded at the feeling of comfort lent by his crimson gaze.

"You two gonna order something or stand there all day?" The innkeeper sneered. Kaidan watched as Rowan turned to gaze at the small woman known as Delphine. The sadness in her eyes masked as she said.

"I'd like to rent the attic room."

"An attic room eh? Well, we don't have an attic room, but you can have the one on the left. Make yourself at home. The cost is forty for a night."

"Damn, I can get half that in Solitude," Kaidan added.

"Good for you, but it's still forty."Rowan scoffed at the sass and handed her the small coin purse.

"Well aren't you the smart one. Enjoy your stay," she said without so much as a grin and walked away.

"She's about as lovely as a falmer's backside," Kaidan sneered. They chuckled together until they reached the small room. A single bed in one corner and a table with a chair in the other and though the bed looked inviting, they didn't even have time to shut the door to her room before they were interrupted by a now eager host. Rowan felt her exhaustion set in, but again turned her attention to Delphine; who was into her years. Her eyes crinkled even without a grin, and the dull blue brought out the gray in her blonde hair. She- like Orgnar-seemed drained, but at this point, Rowan doubted it was for the same reasons.

"So you're the Dragonborn I've heard so much about, I think you were looking for this. We need to talk, follow me." She held the horn out to them and as she did she noticed Kaidan looked at it visibly disappointed. It wasn't as impressive as he thought the horn of Jurgen Windcaller would be. Instead of large and perhaps jewel encrusted. It was small and twisted by the mouthpiece and any designs long since faded from the bone. It made the one slung over Rowan's shoulder look more refined than it actually was. He admitted it wasn't his best work, but it was better than the one she bled for. Rowan took it and put it in her satchel and flung it back over her shoulder and followed along with Kaidan close behind.

She quickly noticed Delphine walked with her shoulders squared and with her head held high as one would who is accustomed to armor. She hadn't seen before, but the Riverwood woman carried herself as a fighter and a proud one at that. She scolded herself for not paying better attention to her surroundings but pushed aside the frustration for now. The question on her mind she felt deserved more of her attention. Who was this woman really?

They were led to what was undoubtedly the biggest room in the whole tavern with a larger bed. No doubt wrapped in red silks straight from the Capital it made Rowan yawn.

"Close the door," Delphine said. Kaidan shut the door with a fling in his wrist while he kept his eyes on her. Delphine, of course, paid him no mind and quickly opened the wardrobe and pushed on a wooden plate in the back of it. With a click, the plate moved to the side revealing her secret staircase.

"Now we can talk."

Rowan's eyes narrowed. The only people with hidden rooms she knew of had secrets and never good ones. Kaidan nudged her arm with a silent reminder he was right behind her if anything happened. She looked back at him with a smile and saw he had the same brow knitting expression on his face. They walked on down the stairs where Delphine waited for them, hunching over the table in the center of the small room as if ready to strategize a battle. The room was not much bigger than most cellars but was well lit with lanterns on the shelve and torches on the walls opposite to each other. It smelt faintly of burned alchemy ingredients, but more noticeable to her senses was the smell of silver. She glanced at the wall to her right only briefly but saw sheathed blades of all sizes lining the stone wall.

"What use is all this to an innkeeper?" Kaidan asked.

"I thought it would've been obvious by now. I'm no more an innkeeper than either of you are," Delphine said looking at the two 'warriors.' Rowan was young, but that was to be expected. In her eyes, the gods wouldn't pick someone old in their years for such a dangerous task, but what she expected was a man to be the Dragonborn; as the tales and prophecies foretold. Someone like Kaidan with his broad shoulders and chest encased in ebony armor, and his hardened expression seemed more like the type she was picturing. She wondered what this woman was capable of for the gods to place such a thing on her if they in fact did at all. At first glance, Rowan seemed like a dark-haired Nord, but the longer she looked at her face, the more she could see she wasn't just a Nord. She was taller, a quality Delphine wrinkled her nose at, at least mentally. Her eyes were a bit bigger and complemented by higher cheekbones. All prominent elven features.

"So, the Greybeards seem to think you're the Dragonborn. I hope they're right," she said.

"They are right," Rowan said trying not to sound snide.

"I hope so, but you'll forgive me if I don't think something is true just because the Greybeards say so. I just handed you the horn of Jurgen Windcaller. Does that make me Dragonborn too?"

Kaidan replied. "No, but what it does make you is a pain in my arse." Delphine looked at Kaidan with her lips pulled into a thin line.

"Maybe the adults should finish talking. Why don't you go wait upstairs," she hissed.

Rowan stepped in front of her gaze then. "He stays. Now, what do you want?" Delphine paused for a moment noticing the controlled anger in Rowan's face as she continued.

"I didn't go to all this trouble on a whim. I needed to make sure it wasn't a Thalmor trap. I am not your enemy..."

"Right!" Kaidan interrupted again. "Seems to be the logical thing to say if you were an enemy." Rowan looked back at him with a silent plea for him to put aside his frustration.

"I think what he's trying to say is. How would you know to take the horn before I even knew about it?"

"Now you're asking the right questions. Unlike your companion," Delphine sneered. " I knew the Greybeards would send you there if they thought you were Dragonborn. They're nothing if not predictable."

"So taking the horn was a way to cover your ass in case the Thalmor were somehow on to you. If you have that powerful of an enemy to worry about, I'd say this conversation has reached an end. We have enough to deal with as it is." They turned to leave, but before Rowan could put her foot on the first step, Delphine called to her.

"Wait, at least hear me out. I know where to find a dragon." Rowan halted, but instead of turning back she looked up at Kaidan. He looked somber at first but seemed to grow more frustrated the longer she stood there. He realized she wasn't going to follow him. He shook his head and walked away slamming the door behind him. Rowan not only saw his pain but felt it deep inside herself. "Damn it all," she whispered

"Fine. I'm listening," she said reluctantly turning back

"Good at least you can be reasonable."

"You can't ask for what you aren't willing to give. Do you think it was reasonable for you to take the horn? Do you think it was reasonable to have my companion and me trek longer than necessary? I'll remind you, you know just as little about us as we do about you. So how about we cut the bullshit. You mentioned the Thalmor so before you tell me anything more I need to know why." Delphine's lips pointed as if satisfied with the statement.

"We are very old enemies," she said folding her arms. "But that isn't important right now. I'm more than willing to tell you everything but not until I know for sure you're Dragonborn."

"Why are you looking for the Dragonborn anyway? Don't you have any other hobbies besides innkeeping?" Rowan asked.

"As much as I love scrubbing piss pots this goes deeper than you or I can even grasp. We remember what most don't- that the Dragonborn is the ultimate dragon slayer. You're the only one that can kill a dragon permanently by devouring its soul. Can you do it? Can you devour a dragon's soul?"

"Yes. That's how I first found out."

"Good, then you'll have a chance to prove it to me soon enough," Delphine said.

"So what's the part you're not telling me?"

"Dragon's aren't just coming back, they're coming back to life."