The world had devolved into a howling tapestry of white and black. Cold crystals coated the dark eyelashes of a muscular womer on an equally solid gelding. She pulled a snow-crusted scarf further up on her face and pressed herself closer to her sturdy black steed, running a gloved hand over his powerful shoulders. "Just a little further, Ven." Her voice was a deep, scratchy tenor, all traces of feminity lost in the muffling facescarf. Ahkmar felt the muscles in Venrukaan's neck bunch beneath her palm before he leapt forward with renewed vigor.

Sitting up, the young Orsimer narrowed her eyes to peer through the blinding whiteness. Snowstorms were common in the mountain passes of Skyrim, where the freezing temperatures of the ancestral homeland of the Nords were amplified by the coupling of altitude and strong winds. Caves however, both natural and carved, were equally as common. Pale blue slits glowed from behind mossy green eyelids as they found what they sought. "This way, Ven." Ahkmar kneed her gelding towards the dark gaping mouth in the side of the mountain. Icicles grew thickly from the top, reminding Ahkmar of a dragon's fangs. Shaking her head, the orc dismounted.

"You seem eager." Ahkmar noted dryly as the horse nearly bolted into the cave. Shrugging, she followed, pulling the necessary materials for a torch from her rucksack. After sparking the flint and steel a few times, the tar coating the short, solid branch caught. Torchlight flickered off the walls of the cave, which Ahkmar noted were well-coated in ice and ribbed like the inside of a snake's throat. "Hmm…" she mused, looking towards where the tunnel continued deeper into the mountain. It looked wide enough for Ven to comfortably walk so long as he was riderless, and Ahkmar had no intentions of leaving him behind unprotected. The cold was still biting and the frozen wind still jealously caressed any exposed flesh.

"Come on, Ven." The Orsimer grasped her midnight gelding's reins and made her way to the back of the cave, right hand wielding the slowly burning torch to chase away the shadows.

No evidence of life, past or present, presented itself as the two trekked along the halls of the chilling cavern but the path remained wide enough for Venrukaan to pass safely. A prickling at the back of Ahkmar's neck grew as they moved forward. The walls were still covered in ice more than thirty paces in, as thick as that at the entrance. Ahkmar tightened her grip on the torch in her hand, noticing that the tunnel was widening. Securing Venrukaan's reins to his saddle so that her treasured companion would not risk tangling them, she unsheathed the war axe at her hip. Dual-wielding fire and steel, she advanced warily to the chamber that she sensed ahead.

The first thing that Ahkmar noticed was a stone table that seemed to grow out of the floor of the cave, icy tendrils desperately grasping at its base but leaving the top shining darkly. Contrasting with the ebon glimmer, a small metallic statue stood vigil on its surface. Stepping forward, the womer raised her torch to get a better look.

Crack! Schkrr! Boom! The sound of a Nordic coffin opening met her pointed ears and Ahkmar looked up to see two glowing blue eyes staring at her through the muffled darkness of the cavern.

"Ven, stay ba-"

"Fus… Ro Dah!" Ahkmar was flung backwards by the scratchy, hollow Voice of the Draugr Wight Lord, colliding harshly with the wall of the cave as her torch and short axe flew from her slackened fingers.

A growled curse escaped from Ahkmar's lips when the torch sputtered out, casting the room into darkness. Groping for the larger battle axe across her broad shoulders, the Orsimer trained her vision on the two glowing pinpoints of light coming from the undead creature's eyes. She was barely able to lift the staff of her weapon in time to prevent the Wight's broadsword from cleaving her in two. The sloppy block jarred her shoulders painfully. She retaliated with a sharp kick to what she thought was the Draugr's knee, grunting in satisfaction when she heard the impact of its body on the floor.

"Laas Yah Nir" This Shout was more of a whisper, and a small smile crossed Ahkmar's lips when a ghostly red shadow shakily stood up from the ground in front of her. Hefting her axe with both hands, she swung at the figure, angling the blade so that it entered at the base of the ribcage and tore upwards through its side. The stench of preserved flesh and coagulated blood met her nose, assuring her of her success. Placing a foot on the Wight's chest, she wrenched her weapon from its reanimated body.

The broadsword clattered to the ground, abandoned by the crippled Draugr. The red light shrunk away from her and raised its spectral hands. Blue light illuminated the cave as a high pitched keening echoed off the walls. Streams of ice and frozen wind met Ahkmar's armor, and she shivered, feeling her arms strain to hold the weight of her heavy axe as her body diverted energy to keep her from freezing to death. With a guttural yell of rage, the Orsimer ignored her weakness and rushed towards her opponent, using the last vestiges of her stamina to firmly lodge her axe head into the crook of its neck.

Panting, Ahkmar watched the light from her Shout fade as the final sparks of undeath abandoned the Draugr Lord's form. Leaving her weapon in the corpse, she felt around for her abandoned torch.

Soft clopping met her ears and a whuff of warm breath brushed over her face as something wooden clattered to the ground. Reaching forward, she felt the thick base of the torch beneath her rough palm. "Thanks, Ven." She brushed his nose with her other hand. The gelding just breathed on her through wide nostrils and calmly nudged her with his large head. Pulling her flint and steel from the pouch at her waist, Ahkmar focused on catching a spark on the partially-burnt tar on the head of the torch.

Light flooded the cave again, and Ahkmar turned to once again regard the room's centerpiece. "What is a shrine to Akatosh doing here of all places?" The Orsimer mused, walking closer to examine the image of a dragon swallowing a sword. She placed her hand on the idol and closed her eyes, asking for the deity's blessing. Instead of the usual feeling of energy rushing over her, a great warmth expanded from the back of the cave.

Opening her eyes, Ahkmar noticed that the entire room was illuminated in full. The source of light was a great flaming dragon aspect. Flinching back, she reached for her battle axe only to grasp empty air. Cursing, she hurriedly sucked in air, but before she could shout, the dragon spoke.

"Do not be afraid, my daughter." Its voice was like honeyed mead and screeching dragons all at the same time. "Do you know who I am?"

"Lord Akatosh" Ahkmar breathed, her tensed muscles relaxing as sapphire orbs rounded in awe.

"Yes" The Dragon God of Time sounded almost amused, "You have defeated my first born, Alduin the World Eater and freed Dovah, Man, and Mer from his wrath and control. Paarthurnax will keep the Dovah in order in your stead." Here he paused.

"In my stead, my Lord? Is this where I die?"

"No, my daughter. There is still great need for you in another realm, a land beyond Nirn called Middle-Earth by its people. Will you take this final quest?" Rubies glittered in the flaming outline of the aspect's head, waiting for her to decide.

"As Dovahkiin, I am honored to accept your quest, my Lord" Ahkmar kneeled before the burning dragon, bowing her head.

"Rise, daughter." Akatosh carved letters into the stone at his feet, superheated claws sliding effortlessly through the floor like a superior ebony dagger passing through a sweet roll. "These are the words you need to Shout to go to Middle-Earth"

"What am I to do there, my Lord? And what of Venrukaan?" Ahkmar questioned.

A great, terrible laugh echoed around the cavern. "You will know when the time comes. And of your horse?" Here he regarded the gelding cooly. "He may pass with you through the void. A companion would make your journey lighter. The orcs of Middle-Earth do not have the code of honor that you Orsimer are so fond of. You would do well to remember that, my daughter. Man and mer alike will fear you, even hunt you for your green skin. Take care in whom you trust, and be strong."

Ahkmar cast her eyes upon the glowing claw marks on the ground and heard ancient Nordic music rush into her ears as ribbons of light spun from the words to meet her face and body. Then, like so many times before, the Dovah souls within her rushed to the forefront of her mind, and she knew. Lein Nil Wundun.

She opened eyes she hadn't known were closed, and realized that the cavern was much dimmer than before. Akatosh was gone. Sighing, Ahkmar gathered her scattered weaponry by the lesser light of the torch and turned to Venrukaan. His large brown eyes glittered in the torchlight, the long lashes adding to his docile visage. Resting a hand on his muscled jawline, she brought her forehead to his. "Looks like we're going on another adventure, Ven. This time though, I feel like we're not coming back."

Her gelding snorted and she smiled. "Yeah, this place was getting pretty darn boring anyways what with being Dragonborn and all. The only people who'll fight me are undead or insane. Maybe in Middle-Earth I'll find a good death."

With that, she slung herself onto Venrukaan's wide back and grasped the reins.

"Lein… Nil Wundun!" Ahkmar's Voice echoed off the dark stone walls. On a pedestal in the middle of the empty chamber, ruby eyes glittered.

Thank you for reading. I would love to know what you think of sending an Orsimer Dragonborn to Middle Earth. This story is not going to get to the quest until much later, though some of the dwarves will be making an appearance pre-quest. When it gets to the quest, expect there to be a lot of deviation from canon. I do not plan on merely writing Ahkmar into The Hobbit.

This is one of the few stories that I have almost fully outlined. You can expect an update at least once a month.

Notes:

Ahkmar is pronounced Ock as in Hockey and Mar which rhymes with Scar.

Venrukaan is pronounced as it is spelled: Ven-roo-khan. It means Wind Runner in Dovahzul.

Lein Nil Wundun means World Void Travel because I wanted to mirror the construction of the canon shouts.

Akatosh calls Ahkmar "My daughter" because he is the father of dragons and Ahkmar is Dragonborn.

Womer is used instead of woman because Orsimer are mer and not men.

If you have any questions at all, feel free to comment or send me a PM!

-Kohlii