Title: Wherever It Takes Me Fandom/Genre: Skyrim (Humour) Pairing: Harkon/Dragonborn

Summary: Seven, a simple Nord with a not so simple life, joins the Dawnguard. Things don't go to plan when Seven's life takes a drastic turn out of desperation. What's a girl to do when the only thing she wants is to get rid of the smell of rotting corpses and fancy cheeses?

Disclaimer: I don't own Skyrim (unfortunately) or the characters (unfortunately). However; I do own Seven (sort of) and the plot of the story (unfortunately [wait—what?]).

A/N: It will eventually become a Harkon/Dragonborn pairing story because there's seriously, like very little stories about him and the Dragonborn and I thought the pairing seemed really cute and adorable in some ways. So, I thought I might add a story to the very, very, very small pile of said pairing. This is the first time I've written Skyrim fanfiction (and actually posted it). So, if it seems a little dodgy, I apologise because I'm not used to people reading my Skyrim works other than a friend of mine. This story is very much loosely based on the Dawnguard quest line, so, things that may have happened or said in the game might not be in the story or vice-versa.
Any advice, comments and criticism is well welcomed.

xXx

I. Dimhollow Crypt

When joining the Dawnguard, Seven didn't think she was going to be used as an errand girl. She didn't think she would have to give up her mace and sword for a crossbow. She didn't think she had to give up her light armour for heavy armour that made a very loud clanky noise every time she even slightly moved.

"Go do this," Isran would order, "Go do that. I have a Last Seed dinner party to attend to; you can go instead so I don't have to deal with politics. Drink some ale while you're at it." But Seven stopped drinking after dealing with dear ol' Uncle Sam. Therefore; if Isran ever ordered her to go to a Last Seed dinner party with politics and ale, she would have to decline.

Seven was a simple Nord with a not so simple life. She was Harbinger of the Companions, a skilled thief from the infamous Thieves Guild and a student at the Bard's College. She was the reason Madanach escaped Cidhna Mine. She was the reason that the Dark Brotherhood fell. She was the reason that the Empire won the civil war that was named The War of the Jaggered Crown. She was the reason Alduin fell. In saying that, she ventured to Sovngarde and returned to live the tale. She was—is—Dovahkiin. Dragonborn (though, she really didn't want to know how dragon blood got into her blood line). She's also a champion for a couple of the Deadric Princes. She couldn't say she was proud of the life she owned but she certainly knew that she wasn't going to give it up any time soon.

With her being a part of the Companions and being their Harbinger, she certainly knew of the beast blood. And the beast blood ran through her veins. Because of this, her senses were stronger. Her hearing, her taste, her touch and smell were all advanced. She didn't blame Vilkas and Farkas for wanting to be cured. They no longer had to deal with Nazeem smelling of fancy cheeses and cow manure. But right now, Seven would rather deal with Nazeem smelling of fancy cheeses and cow manure or Maven Black-Briar smelling of mead and fish or Galmar Stone-Fist smelling of fish and old bear fur rather than the smell of rotting corpses.

'Damn vampires,' Seven thought as she held her nose, trying to breath properly whilst inhaling the rotting corpse smell, 'Why do they have to smell of the rotting dead? Why couldn't it be dead flowers? Or blood even, that would make more sense.'

"Go see what the vampires were looking for in this Dimhollow Crypt," Isran had ordered when Seven had trudged back up towards the castle, "With any luck, they'll still be there."

'Well, aren't you just a lucky chap then, huh Isran?' Thought Seven as she attempted to sneak through the crypt, 'Vampires all around, choking me to death with their Namira awful smell.' Ah, Namira. Seven never wanted to think about that embarrassing situation. Here, eat human flesh. Taste like chicken. Uh, no thank you. Stupid, repulsive Deadra Princes.

After taking down several more vampires and punching a few skeletons, Seven had enough. The heavy armour she wore was loud and clanky. It was difficult to move in and she would rather be in her underclothes than that horrible armour fashion. She stripped a dead vampire woman of her dress and put it on, disposing all evidence of the heavy armour.

She slid her satchel back around her shoulders. The small bag bounced at her hip. Seven looked down at her toes that poked out from underneath the rim of the dark dress. She wiggled and curled them.

"Bare foot it is then," Seven sighed to herself as she moved on; thanking the Divines that she was Nord. Said Nord was average in looks; dark hair that fell around her waist, silver eyes, scars ran across her left cheek down to her lips that stood out against skin that was lightly tanned from its time out in the sun. And like any other Nord woman, she had a busty figure. She couldn't be called a Nord woman if she didn't have the infamous Nordic busty figure.

Fighting in a dress with only a crossbow in hand was easier said than done. She had no Tolan to back her up. The idiot ran on ahead without her and because he had no experience in fighting so many foes at once, he ended up dead. Well done to him.

"Well done, Isran." Seven facepalmed as she thought of the dead man back in the first room, "You sent a Vigilant who couldn't fight to a crypt full of vampires."

'He insisted,' Isran's voice argued in the back of her head. It was scratchy and annoying. Like cats.

"You are vampire hunter and you couldn't handle one Vigilante?" Seven whispered to herself as she shot and reloaded, "What kind of man are you?"

She opened up a gate and ducked behind the railing as she heard vampire talk and taunt over a dead man. Most likely the one Tolan wanted to save. Well, both men were dead and she was on her own. In a dress. With a bow that she barely knew how to use. Oh? You're used to maces and swords? Have a crossbow that you barely know how to use. 'Well freakin' done, Mister I-need-to-take-chill-potion Vampire Hunter.' Seven thought bitterly at Isran as she cringed at the smell of vampire.

"I smell mortal blood," A male called out. Seven flinched again. She bet that wasn't all he smelt. She bet he could smell the stench of wet dog. "Find them."

Though she often cursed Hircine for the advantages that came with being a werewolf due to the ability of smelling things a normal person couldn't smell, this time she thanked him. Her ears picked up the soft sound of the light movements of the vampires moving closer towards her. She prayed; 'Please don't find me. Please don't find me. Please—'

"Is someone there?" A woman called out. They were moving closer. "Ha! Found you!"

"Son of a—!" Seven stood up and shot the first vampire down. She was growing to like the crossbow. It was quite effective. But it sat awkwardly in her hands. And she was yet to get used to the recoil when the crossbow shot the bolt. She reloaded and shot again. The vampire behind the first one fell.

She ran, leaping over them and down the earth-made ramp. She dodged the vampire running at her. She did a one eighty degree turn and shot the male predator.

The clacking of bone against bone reached her ears as she reloaded the crossbow. She turned and saw skeletons jogging towards her. A guard-hated wolfish grin reached her face.

"A bone to chew on," Seven cooed as she whacked the three of them on the head, sending them into piles. An arrow barely missed her face. She watched as the arrow landed head first into the ground beside the body of Tolan's friend. She looked up at the source. A vampire taking aim. "Now that's just rude."

Seven aimed and fired. Missed. She reloaded. Aimed. Fired. Missed.

"Deadra curse it." Seven muttered as she reloaded. "Stop moving!" She called out as she took aim once again. She fired. This time, making him cripple to the ground. She rushed over to him. She killed him before he had the chance to stand back up. She looked at her surroundings. Ancient walls that were yet to crumble still stood strong and proud, to which Seven compared to a Nord.

She placed a hand on one of the stone pillars, fingers tracing old Nordic patterns. Her eyes wandered up the pillar and at the wide open roof. She twirled around, trying to get a good look at everything that surrounded her. It reminded Seven of the time she first stepped into the room in which she would cure Kodlak, her old predecessor, in. She had twirled her way to the centre of the old room before she managed to get to business. Kodlak was cured and she was named Harbinger. One of the last things she expected to hear. Both she and Aela were shocked when she was named leader of the Companions. She was sure the old man managed to get a good laugh at the looks on both their faces before he disappeared and turned for Sovngarde.

Seven froze when she backed up into something that made the cold seep through her dress. She turned slowly to find a thin altar with a button at its top. Her mother always told her not to press buttons or pull levers if she didn't know what they did. And being the wise girl that she was, Seven ignored her mother's warnings and pressed the button.

The crypt was silent except for the high pitch yelp that echoed throughout the tomb. The button did nothing but stab Seven's hand. Today was definitely not her day. When the altar decided to give back her hand, Seven turned and slid to the ground. Her back against the thin pillar of an altar—the crossbow long forgotten. She looked at her hand. It was stained with red and had a gaping hole at its centre. She cursed her so called luck that she didn't bring any healing potions.

"The one day I don't bring them," Seven hissed to herself as she gripped her wrist tightly as if it would help. She groaned as her hand continued to spill blood. "Well done, Sev. Give y'self a pat on the back for a job well done." She sarcastically grinned at herself.

Letting go of her wrist, Seven tore the sleeve of her dress off and wrapped it around her hand. She stood up and looked at her situation. There was nothing here except for a hand-stabbing button. She walked over to one of the basins that surrounding the button she now despised more than she despised Nazeem, Galmar Stone-Fist and Maven Black-Briar put together. And that's quite a lot of hatred for one button.

She leaned against the basin and began to think of what to do. She could always go back and say there was nothing here and that it was a waste of her time. Oh yeah, she could definitely see that going down well;

"Did you find anything?" Isran would ask.

"Nope. Just two dead Vigilantes, all the vampires I killed, a couple of death hounds, a draugr and a spider. Oh, and a hand-stabbing button." Would be Seven's reply which would then cause her to get a slap across the back of the head and scolding for not respecting the dead properly. Of course, her retort to that being; "You mean I should have respect for vampires as well? I mean, they're technically dead."

Seven sighed and shook her head. No. She couldn't go back telling him that. Her head began to ache and she blamed the vampires for smelling more like rotting corpses now that they were actually dead. Again, she cursed them.

She put all her weight against the basin. Before she could ponder her decisions further, the basin slid backwards, making her fall to the ground. She quickly rolled over and watched as the basin move to the outer circle and become alight. Her eyes followed the purple streaks that rushed over to the other basins.

Seven groaned and hung her head; "I don't get paid enough to do this." She got back up and made her way around the circle, making each basin come alight. "In fact," Seven mumbled, "I rarely get paid at all."

When the final basin was sent a flame, the ground seemed to come to life as a purple light shot up from around the altar as the basins moved by themselves into place. Seven cautiously and awkwardly side stepped her way over to one of the stone pillars and hid behind it. The gods' forsaken hand-stabbing button was pushed upwards as if it was pulling something up. And it appeared it was. When the ground stopped moving and the purple glow faded away, Seven stepped out from her in-case-of-an-emergency hiding spot. She walked over to the now revealed coffin. She circled it. She came back to the front.

Seven reached out towards the lid of the casket. Her fingers barely touched it when the lid fell down and a girl tumbled out.

"Ugh…where is…?" The dark haired girl asked. She looked up at Seven with golden eyes. Vampire. "Who sent you here?"

Seven's eyes were wide. However; she couldn't tell if it was from horror, surprise or both; "Yep. Definitely don't get paid enough."