Desert

They fling open the doors at the same time.

A warrior wind closes them shut right after, leaving behind an infinite silence; and in front of her dark outline, with all the meanings it bears, Mjoll feels two sleepless days of journey fall off her like nothing.

Dragon wings are melting in the clouds, silver pours on the lands beneath. Their scales roar the news to the sons of Skyrim; and the earth itself echoes the announcement of their salvation, a happiness earned with the bloody sweat of one.
The one is back, and a desert stretches at her feet.

She just had to be there, in the only place where it could happen. Mjoll did not need Balgruuf's advice at all – she ran straight to her horse and fled, galloping for miles and miles, led by a mere feeling that rang in her like a certainty.
She swore that, no matter how long, she would be waiting. A hero doesn't always have to be alone.

When Lynne collapses in her arms, she feels shaking fingers reach for her skin through the iron, led by the desperate need of warmth. It takes Mjoll a split second to realise her whole body is as cold as ice.
Nobody is there.

Her breath falls in fragments from her mouth – Lynne tries to explain in wordless sounds, with her eyes still wide open on a precipice of supernatural truths. But time flows on – as hard as she tries, the spider web of her thoughts breaks inch after inch, and her tongue runs out of strength.

Mjoll sheds tears that touch her frozen skin like fire. She nods in silence and makes Lynne stay still in her embrace – she tries to erase the vanished dangers, the countless possibilities now swallowed by time, the terrible knowledge lying in her heart.

Mjoll knows the ocean that fate has put between them. She also knows that, if the destiny Lynne took on was as real as she believed, then it was the same fate to bring them together for some reason.

The last dragon roar is long gone when her face moves from her shoulder. Mjoll runs a delicate hand on her tightened jaw; and when she is calm, and again capable of crying, Lynne reaches for her lips with the fear of an abandoned child.
Nobody walks in.

She won't let the tide steal her, a bit farther each day, until she loses herself. She won't let her drown.

In the shadows of High Hrothgar, Mjoll swears. And the world, respectful, keeps silent.


Few people can repair a hole in time and read an Elder Scroll and prevent the world from ending without a huge emotional breakdown.

Lynne is not one of them.

Skyrim main quest finished, expect a lot of fanfic about the dragons and the lore of Skyrim now.

[Revised 03-21-2013]