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This is my first fanfic so don't hesitate to leave comments or critic my work, enjoy the story I'll try to update every 7-10 days but the schedule may be changed if/when life gets in the way.

CH 1

Within the cold, foreboding walls of High Hrothgar silence reigned. The mountain breeze whispered through long halls and torches flickered in the dark. The Greybeards, the caretakers of the monastery, all slept peacefully.

All accept one.

Master Angeir slowly paced through the corridors of his monastery. He is restless, unable to sleep. Mumbling mantras and prayers to the divine Kynareth, Goddess of wind and sky, he thought on past events, when peace was shattered eight years ago by the return of Alduin, and how after the World Eater's death peace once again, gradually returned to Skyrim.

Alduin was the son of Akatosh, the greatest of the nine divines, and the father of dragonkind. The dov once ruled Tamriel in mythic times, until the Dragon War ages ago. Men and Mer overthrew the Tyranny of Alduin and his children and through the use of a mythic Elder Scroll they threw him into the streams of fate and time. As the millennia passed the race of dragons dwindled and died out, and eventually became legend.

In the year 201 of the Fourth Age, Alduin returned. He was determined to fulfill his prophecy as the World Eater, the apocalypse of Nirn. He resurrected all of his loyal children and began his assault on the land of Skyrim, home of the Nords, and upon Sovngarde, the Nord's honored afterlife. As dragons rampaged across Skyrim, the Empire, which over the centuries had fractured into an echo of its former glory, descended into civil war; the future of Tamriel and its peoples became bleak. But hope was renewed when an unlikely hero arose seemingly from myth itself. Dovahkiin. The Dragonborn, last of his bloodline, had returned as the scrolls had foretold. He was, however, very unlike what the stories of old claimed he would be; a dark elf, with quick wit and a nimbleness that would become the bane of hundreds. With sword, guile, and the mighty Thu'um he slayed scores of dov and reunited Skyrim under the Empire's rule and finally within glorious Sovngarde itself he slew Alduin, with his voice alone.

Since Alduin's demise the Dovahkiin has done much to protect Skyrim and Tamriel from threats both mundane and otherwise. He destroyed the bloodthirsty Volikhar Clan of vampires, expanded the Companions into a force Ysgrammor himself would've been proud of, he defeated the resurrected Miraak, first of the Dragonborn, and tyrant of Solstheim, and eradicated the feared Dark Brotherhood once and for all. He is a master of the Thu'um, War Hero of the Empire, and Thane of all Skyrim. Through his influence and guidance, Skyrim has thrived under the benign rule of High Queen Elisif the Fair, and though Tamriel isn't at peace under the divided rule of the decaying Empire, the enigmatic Argonians, independent Hammerfall, and the tyrannical Aldmeri Dominion, it is once again balanced through the efforts of the Dragonborn and others of like mind.

Angeir entered High Hrothgar's grand chamber, thinking of how through the wisdom of the Greybeards and their master Paarthunax, the experience gained from his adventures, and even the misguided teachings of the Blade turned an outcast Mer into a hero fit for song.

The Greybeard knelt in the middle of the antechamber and, facing east, began chanting in the Thu'um, his voice alternately whispering and rumbling as he settled into a deep meditation. Angeir's chanting echoed throughout the dark chambers and cold hallways of the monastery and time passed quickly. Shadows began to form from the light of the rising sun. It was unfortunate for Angeir and his fellow Greybeards that they never woke from their slumber or rose from their meditations to notice that the shadows moved throughout High Hrothgar.

As the sun's rays reached Angeir's eyes he ceased his meditations and began to rise from long hours of kneeling and praying, until he was halted by the sensation of cold steel pressing at his throat.

Angeir froze, disbelieving

How-How can this be! Who would dare-?

The old man's eyes darted back and forth as he tried to glimpse his assailant. Through his frantic searching Angeir finally realized the shadows seemed to be moving along the walls, and he could just make out figures within the shadows, and they were looking at him.

He glared at the figures, and in a soft, though slightly shaking voice, he proclaimed, "Why are you here?"

And a voice answered, "To kill you, of course."

Angeir's eyes shot towards the source of the voice, he couldn't make out the figure's shape but he did notice that he (she?, it?) was calmly staring at him, and though the figure was enshrouded in darkness, he could out his smile, the pale and glistening teeth flashing in what little there was.

The old Greybeard glared at the smiling shadow "if I am to be murdered, will you at least honor me with the sight of my murderer?"

The shadow chuckled and he stepped into the dawn's light, his outline revealed but his features still obscured in shadow. The figure's most obvious characteristics where his large ears extending from his narrow head and the long, slim tail swishing back and forth in across the dawn's rays, sending shadows dancing across Angeir.

Angeir continued to simply glare at the Khajit for a while then he simply settled back into his meditative stance, closing his eyes, the knife still at his throat, and bowed he bowed his head.

"My brothers…"

"Are they Dead? Yes, you have the honor of being the last Greybeard in existence at this moment. Tell me, how does it feel?"

Angeir could see the cat's white fangs shine in a predatory grin. His face remained impassive as he took notice of his surroundings. His unknown assailant had a firm and steady grip of the blade currently pressing at his throat, and the shadows continued to seemingly shift and flow as other figures moved within them. He knew that to resist was death, yet to remain there was also death. With a grim calculation he knew that death, no matter what he did, was fast approaching. He opened his eyes with a sigh and asked one last question to the shadow in front of him.

"Why?"

"It's just business, old one."

Angeir tried to draw upon the Thu'um to defiantly shout his adversaries into Oblivion as a final act of defiance, but at a nod from the Khajit the blade that had long been held steady at his throat descended. It was quick, bloody and brutal. Angeir collapsed, his lifeblood gushing from his throat and his vision quickly turning red. Through the crimson curtain that his vision had become he could just barely see the Khajit and his murderer standing over his body, the Khajit giving the knife-wielder, a woman, a fatherly pat on her shoulder.

"Take his head for proof."

"Yes, Listener."

"And sister?"

"Yes?"

"For many years these old ones had thrived on their meditations and the sound of their inane Nordic shouting and chanting. Give this old one an answer to a question once asked of this one, 'What is the music of life?'"

"Silence, my brother."

The Khajit grinned.

"Exactly".

He then walked off, his tail continuing to sway and send shadows dancing across the dying Greybeard's body as he disappeared into the shadows. As the monk gasped for air, he could just barely notice how as the Khajit entered the darkness, it seemed to sway and froth in an almost monstrous delight, like a pet seeing its master return home.

Angeir's vision darkened, his last thoughts were of sorrow over the deaths of his brothers, and confusion over the ease of the destruction of an order that had lasted millennia. The last thing he felt was the dull sensation of steel cleaving through his neck before his consciousness fled into the void.

"Make a wish child"

I wish everything will remain the same as it is, and that daddy can stay with us just a bit longer.

Lucia opened her eyes and blew out the candle on her sweet roll, then snatched it up and happily began devouring it amid the cheers of her family and friends as they themselves began helping themselves to their own delicious pastries. Her sweet roll was quickly consumed and Lucia basked in the simple joy of having all of her family and friends in one place, a rare occurrence for the family of the Dragonborn.

Lucia, the daughter and first child of the Dragonborn, looked up to her father.

"Give me a year and I believe I'll be taller than you, Daddy."

She was answered with roaring laughter, and was immediately seized and launched out of her chair. Lucia gave an undignified shriek of surprise and an instant later was caught by her father, who continued to chuckle and looked upon her with a mischievous glint in his scarlet eyes, added with a smile full of love and pride that only a father could give.

"Aye, you little Scrib, in a year I'd probably start looking up at ye. But remember my child, no matter how big ye get, or how old I'll get, I'll always be your father. And darling, that means I will always have the upper hand."

"Tsk, put her down husband; let her mother get a chance to hug our child!"

Lucia looked up at her mother, a tall and undeniably Nordish woman with hair the color of autumn and a constant smile, and embraced her. "I love you Mama."

The Dragonborn's wife grinned at her daughter and looked down at her husband. "At least I managed to make sure your fool of a father actually managed to make it to this one, eh." The Dragonborn ran his hand over his dark brown hair self-consciously as he tried to hide his embarrassment.

"Ah, come on woman. It was only once that I missed her birthday, and that was because I was stuck deep in the middle of a bloody Daedric realm -"

"Oh yeah I think I remember that one father, it was one of the pleasure realms of Sanguine, right? Full of ale, song, and debauched elven women?"

The very ruffled Dragonborn glared at the speaker.

"Shut it you arrogant s'wit, you know full well I was deep within the Ashpits, the fiery realm of Malacath, and it was there that I nearly-"

Lucia, who was giggling during the exchange, began howling with laughter as she looked at her flustered father trying to correct his lackadaisical son.

Ah it was a sight to see. A short, wiry Dunmer with equally short brown hair and a slim beard, shaking his obsidian-skinned finger at a tall, well-built imperial, young and dressed in leathers, who in turn was lazily leaning back against the wall, grinning at his rambling father.

The Dragonborn's wife shook her head and began to once again laugh and tsk her fool husband and son. "Genai Seht! Have you no control over yourself, or over our dear son!"

Lucia laughed and shook her finger at her brother "Yeah Sam, you know how father is; you're going to break him one of these days as he tries to mend his broken pride!"

Sam and Lucia together laughed at their father's deepening blush.

"Ah Ysolda, dear wife, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you like that."

Genai turned to his guests and gave a slight shrug and a rueful grin, "and I'm sure you lot have all enjoyed the show, eh?"

Lydia, one of the Dragonborn family's many housecarls, chuckled at her Thane's loss of pride as Jon and Lars, members of the powerful Battle-Born Clan, grinned at each other. Next to the fire Braith, a young Redguard woman, snorted in laughter and Meeko, the family's loyal dog barked happily at his master's plight.

Genai huffed at his guests' mirth and marched to a nearby cabinet. "Well as it seems that I 'ave entertained ye all so much, might as well get a drink for all me troubles. Anyone want something from the stash while I'm 'ere?"

A chorus of ayes and demands for various drinks answered his question, though Lucia was silent for a moment, and with a sly look in her eye she asked her father, "any Argonian Ale?"

Her father gave her an odd look, and shook his head, "nah, we don't have any lizard-drink here, but I can send Lydia over to the Bannered Mare to fetch a bottle if ye really eh, require some?"

Lydia sighed, stood from her chair and bowed to her Thane, "As you wish my Thane."

Lucia waved the housecarl down and headed for the door, "It's alright father, I'll get it myself. I've been stuck in the house for quite a bit now, and I feel like taking a quick walk anyways. Meeko can come with me if that's alright."

Her father nodded in consent as Lucia passed through the door, the old dog happily bounding after her. The guests and Sam, drinks in hand, were happily talking among themselves as Ysolda walked over to her husband with a query.

"Do you know what that was about?

Genai gave a shrug as an answer, leaned up and gave his wife a peck on the cheek. "I don't know, but that girl has a right to her own secrets. After all it is her birthday, I'm sure there are other people that need a chance to wish her well today."

The Dunmer grinned at his wife and swiftly turned to the others, "Now then mates, have I ever had the honor of telling you the tale of my victory over the villainous Dragon Priest, Otar the Mad?"

A chorus of groans answered him.

Lucia strolled past several shops in the market place, with Meeko happily trotting next to her, occasionally giving a friendly bark to a random passerby. It was a beautiful spring noon, the sun was shining and clouds were slowly sailing across the blue sky. The mountains in the distance retained their winter beauty, and the Throat of the World, the mightiest mountain in Skyrim and all of Tamriel, was devoid of any cloud or mist that could shroud her glory. Within the markets vendors hawked their wares, shoppers strolled from stall to stall and children ran by playing there games and creating mischief.

Occasionally a merchant or shopper would recognize her and give her a friendly wave or a greeting, recognizing her as the hero of Skyrim's daughter, and she would happily reply in thanks. She eventually reached the end of the district where the Bannered Mare resided, one of Whiterun's most prestigious inns and made nationally favorite for being owned and favored by the Dragonborn clan.

Lucia entered the inn and nary a second later was she met with a loud cheer of "Happy Birthday!" from several of the Inn's staff and patrons. The inn's bard, Mikhael, began playing a local birthday tune, and a drunken group of patron sang along, much Lucia's amusement. She walked up to the bar where the innkeeper, Hulda, was cleaning the bar's surface and grinning at her.

"Happy birthday Lucia, can I get you anything?"

Lucia smiled back and shook her head, "No, not for myself anyways. Is Brenuin here?"

Hulda's smile became a little forced as she answered, "No, he's up in the cloud district, don't know why he suddenly went up there for his...job. Lucia's smile widened. "Thank you, do you have a bottle of Argonian Ale?"

Hulda nodded, her original grin returned, and grabbed a bottle of dark red ale. Lucia began to reach for some septims before Hulda interrupted her, "No my dear, there's no need to pay today, consider it on the house. Happy birthday Lucia!"

Lucia smiled in appreciation and picked up the bottle, "Thank you Hulda, have a great day!"

Lucia then exited the inn, its patrons still singing in her honor, and headed up to the cloud district, followed by Meeko. After passing many homes and climbing many sets of stairs she eventually reached the Gildergreen, a beautiful tree of pale wood and golden leaves, a symbol of Kynareth's love and her faith's diligence. Many people, dressed in stylish and expensive outfits characteristic of cloud district citizens, passed the tree, admiring its beauty and sometimes sending silent prayers to the goddess of wind and sky. However, they all pointedly ignored the man sitting at the base of the tree, an old, nearly decrepit Redguard man dressed in rags was silently holding out a hand for coin, glaring at all who passed him.

His glowering was quickly replaced with a delighted grin when he heard the loud pop of a cork being released from a bottle and he looked to his side to see the Dragonborn's daughter smiling at him and handing him a bottle of his favorite drink. He accepted the gift with a joyful laugh and took a long, hearty draught of Argonian ale, then settled more comfortably into the Gildergreen with a sigh of appreciation.

"Well Lucie, it's good to see you today."

"It's good to see you to Bren."

The beggar and the young woman leaned against the holy tree, sharing a bottle of Argonian Ale, pointedly ignoring the whispering of passing nobility about the "scandalous behavior of the Dragonborn's daughter." Meeko, who was almost as raggedy as the beggar, laid across both the beggar's and the girl's legs and they both petted him to the dog's great contentment.

Lucia stared up into the branches of the Gildergreen, bouncing the bottle's cork in her hand. "So, how has the begging been?"

The beggar, Brenuin, laughed and spilled a little ale on his already stained tunic, which Meeko immediately began to lick at, and took another pull of the bottle. "Well your suggestion of moving from the wind district to the cloud district didn't help at all. It's certainly prettier up here but the fine ladies and gents that pass me by are even more adept at blindness than the merchants down below."

Lucia scowled and took the nearly empty bottle, taking a drink and glared at a passing couple, who in turn did their best not to stare at her. "Aargh, it's not fair!" She turned her glare over to her friend and softly thumped him on the side of the head, "you could have accepted the position over at Breezehome as our local steward but no, you are 'content' here."

Brenuin smirked and took over the bottle, finishing it off with one last gulp. "I told you ten years ago, I'm an old man, I've lived my life and have repeatedly got the short end of the stick. I'm tired of getting back up so I think I'll stay down here, happily accepting the generosity of others." Tossed the bottle into a nearby patch of flowers and Meeko loped over and began sniffing at it.

The young woman continued to glare at the beggar, "Ten years ago a loud, boastful Dark Elf finally took notice of me and took me as his own, made me part of a family that is now the greatest in all of Skyrim. I had my lucky break, I'm trying to give you yours."

The beggar sighed, and looked over to the girl that ten years ago was the only family either of them had. "Look, I'm happy for ye, fate gave you a perfect chance for you to be what ye want to be. My time is nearly spent; I don't want to be a bother to you or your da."

Lucia rolled her eyes, "Old man, it's my birthday, and right now a lovely gift from you would be to accept my offer and become a little respectful before you come face to face with Arkay."

Brenuin stared at his friend, the girl he raised since her real parents passed on so many years ago, and threw his hands up in mock anger. "Ah! Child life as a hero's kid has spoiled ye. Alright, I'll take the stupid position, but don't expect me to go sober for you or the bleedin' Dragonborn!"

Lucia grinned victoriously and kicked her legs in excitement, then gave Brenuin a mock serious stare, "Of course not, I don't expect the impossible," she then resumed her grin and hugged her friend. Meeko had picked up the bottle and was sitting in front of them, his tail swaying back and forth and drool slowly forming around the bottle.

Lucia continued to hug her friend until she caught a whiff of the beggar's tunic and she quickly backed away from him, nearly a yard away. "Of course, you will be expected to bathe as often as you can, and wear different clothes as days pass."

She received a glower and growl from the old beggar in return.

Lucia's laughter rang out in the courtyard, drawing many glances from the random passerby, and Brenuin's glower turned into a smile, one of happiness and pride, and her laughed along with her as Meeko continued to stare at the two loud humans, his head cocked to the side. Lucia stood up from the tree and hoisted her friend up and they began walking back to Breezehome, arm in arm. Lucia happily skipping along, Meeko pawing alongside her still carrying the empty bottle and Brenuin looking at the girl – no the woman – beside him with a contented smile. Lucia knew without a doubt that this will be one of the happiest days in her life, a day that would last forever in her thoughts.

Overhead, a dark cloud passed in front of the midday sun, and for a few seconds, the city of Whiterun was covered in darkness, and a few denizens shivered in unknown fear as the shadows surrounded them. Then just as quickly as they came, the shadows moved on, as the cloud once again revealed the shining sun, and the people of Whiterun quickly returned to their day-to-day activities, their moment of unexplained fear quickly forgotten.

How was the first chapter? Don't hesitate to comment!