The Road to Kynesgrove
I: Ambition
The Dovahkiin was a little bit of an idiot.
Delphine crunched to an irritated halt, her breath streaming out in a long-suffering sigh. The steady snow that had been falling since she had first entered the region had been blown away with the clouds and the white powder had already been packed down into the spaces between the cobbles on the path she was treading. The wind remained though, icy and piercing, making her shiver under her leather armor. After living in Skyrim for so long, she was used to braving freezing temperatures but, for this time of year, the intense cold was unnatural, born from the presence of long-dead dragons suddenly resurrected.
Born from dragons. Dragonborn. Delphine's chapped lips didn't even crack a smile as the term crossed her mind and she turned her head over her shoulder to listen for the labored breathing and elephantine effort of her traveling companion bungling up the slope after her. A handful of footsteps later, an iron-clad figure clattered into view, sword banging against its thigh with every step. Short limbs and broad shoulders gave the figure away as a Breton (and a stout one at that, Delphine thought) and the eyes peering out from the helmet were large and dumb as a cow's. They caught Delphine's disapproving glance and the dirty face broke out into a smile.
"That's some workout, isn't it?" she panted. Then her face screwed up and she sneezed; her horned helmet slipping down her forehead.
Acajou. A fat Breton named Acajou was supposed to be the Dragonborn. Harbinger of the end times; the saviour of the world. Delphine didn't know whether to laugh or cry when this same figure, wearing a threadbare tunic and iron boots ("My armor got stolen last night!"), walked into The Sleeping Giant days before, looking and smelling as if she had lived in a barn for the past year. Her unusually short hair was plastered to her skull by the rain and her voice was hoarse but she asked for directions to the Seven Thousand Steps as easily and ignorantly as if she was ordering a bowl of tomato soup. When she left the next morning, Delphine had made a bet with herself: if the stranger survived the journey to and from High Hrothgar, Delphine would test the supposed Dragonborn. If Acajou failed to return- well, that was one more instance of failure that she could use to ridicule the Greybeards.
And then, wonder of wonders, the same woman came sauntering back into the inn on rubbery legs, sporting two black eyes, a sprained wrist, and the official blessing of the Greybeards as Dovahkiin. She seemed to handle the title as unsteadily as she gripped her sword in her wounded hand.
When Acajou was brought back to Riverwood from Ustengrad, bearing not the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller but a summons from Delphine, the innkeeper had seized the opportunity. The question was posed and accepted. Acajou was too stupid to turn down a suicide mission and Delphine was too stubborn to go back on her word. Soon they were both on the road to Kynesgrove.
Acajou's earth-shaking steps echoed Delphine's rapid ones as they departed Riverwood. The mountain watched their backs retreat over the sloping hills next to the river. Acajou, iron armor gleaming like a gem waiting to be stolen (Delphine had managed to scrounge up a set from somewhere), was soon puffing with exertion. The breastpiece covering her tunic was several sizes too big, even on her hefty frame, and a cloth skirt, held up by a leather belt, draped over the sturdy iron plates on her thighs and boots. Her walk was more of a rattling waddle than anything else and she crashed through the lowland brush like a charging bear. Still, she trooped obediently along the path after Delphine, her pace flagging only when they had reached the outskirts of Windhelm; by then she was gasping for air and tripping over her iron boots.
"Yes, it is a workout," Delphine answered, trying not to focus on the fact that the Dovahkiin was complaining more about the walking than the imminent confrontation with a dragon. "You should try to make a point of traveling lightly on long journeys." The innkeeper's own armor, supple leather molded to her body and accented with silver pieces, was light enough to travel silently in—but silent travel meant nothing when the person accompanying her was a loud horker of a woman.
"Oh, I left a bunch of my things at The Sleeping Giant," was the cheerful answer. "I pushed it all under the bed, so hopefully nothing will get stolen."
"Well, something seems to be slowing you down," Delphine said, slowing her pace to allow her companion to catch up. "What did you bring?"
The sound of chewing came to her ears, and she turned her head to see Acajou digging around in a good-sized cloth sack at her waist. In one hand, she held a half-eaten loaf of bread. Her other hand came out of the sack clutching an entire wheel of cheese. She beamed at Delphine.
"I get hungry real easy for some reason, but don't worry; I brought enough for both of us. Want some?"
Shaking her head at the wheel of cheese she was being offered, she turned and continued making her dogged way south; up the slope of the not-quite mountain where Kynesgrove was nestled. "I'm not too keen on weighing myself down with food before battle," she snapped tersely.
They walked in snowy silence for a bit, Acajou breathing hard around mouthfuls of bread and cheese. Absently she asked, "So you'll tell me what you want with me after we kill this dragon?"
"That's the agreement, yes."
Adjusting her tunic under her armor, Acajou took a few hurried steps and matched Delphine's long stride. "Are you a warrior?"
The term made Delphine smile. "You could say that. Are you?"
The Dragonborn's laugh was a deep one, straight from her belly, and she nearly choked on her own spit when she gasped for air. She was still laughing when Iddra, still in her cooking apron, came stumbling through the snow towards them, her eyes wild.
Delphine elbowed Acajou hard in the stomach to shut her up. Acajou, looking nauseated and struggling to regain her wind, glanced sheepishly at her innkeeper companion, whose blue eyes were fixed on the sky.
Above them, in the grey gloom of a building snowstorm, a winged shadow wove in and out of the clouds, circling.
He was a blight in the sky, all jagged angles and angry lines. Ink black and armored from nose-to-tail, the dragon punished the air with his wings. Beneath the black one, clawing up through the burial mound like a worm being flushed from the ground by a rainstorm, another dragon drank in the vile Thu'um that had given it breath after centuries of being dead. His body took on flesh and bulk even as it shook itself, as a horse does after a dust bath, and he raised his elegant silver head to face his lord. Delphine's stomach churned with disgust as he opened his mouth and hissed out something low in the column of its throat. The black one growled something back.
Acajou's expression was a mix of abject terror and keen interest. Somewhere on the wind, behind the sounds of beating wings and gusting winds and scraping branches, words were being said. None that she could understand but she at least knew that they were coming from the two dragons; and they were talking about her. She came out from behind the rock with her ears pricked to what the great horned dragon was grating out. Delphine, hearing only animal roars from the pair of giant Dovah in front of her, shot her hand out and snagged the top of her companion's boot. "Idiot! Get down!"
"You do not even know our tongue, do you?"
The contempt in his voice nearly stopped her heart. Peering out from beneath the brim of her helmet, she saw that the dragon in the air had dropped his head and was looking directly at her. The motion was so uncannily human that she whimpered, not even bothering to reach for her sword because she knew it wouldn't do any good against this one. She remembered him. Even if the attack on Helgen had happened fifty years ago, she would still remember this one's silhouette against the sky. In this moment, they were the only two warriors on the battlefield, and she quailed before him. His voice broke through her terror and burned into her ears.
"Sahloknir!" This was spoken with the air of giving a soldier an order as the black dragon banked and crested the trees to abandon the three of them on the hill. "Krii daar joorre."
The silver-white dragon leaped from the ground, spraying snow and chunks of earth in every direction. Acajou, always amazed at the smallest things, was speechless at how effortlessly the great mass of scales and teeth took to the sky. Gale force winds burst from his wings as he gained altitude."I am Sahloknir!" The words cut into Acajou's body and froze her to the spot. "Hear my voice and despair!"
The tiny Breton immediately obeyed. Her pupils shrank and her skin blanched underneath the dirt smeared on her face. Delphine saw her knees folding, seized her by the crook of her arm, and shouted directly in her face.
"Don't you dare pass out on me! You will stand and fight with me, do you hear?"
The wind shrieked in their ears along with the sound of inhaling. Delphine threw herself at Acajou and they both crashed to the ground as a column of subzero frost sliced through the air where they had been standing; the dragon's shadow passing over them like an eclipse. Snarling in frustration, Sahloknir pumped his wings and angled his body for another go-around. Delphine realized they wouldn't have enough time for careful battle tactics. The winner would be whoever could hold out the longest against the other's onslaught- and, to be honest, she didn't think she and cow-eyes constituted an onslaught for the dragon. She dragged Acajou to her feet, craning her neck to find the dragon circling like a vulture in the snowstorm above them. "I thought you brought one of these down before. Where's your bravado now?"
The Dragonborn visibly swallowed and fumbled for her bow. "This one's a lot bigger than the other one," she said, sounding guilty. Blindly groping behind her back for something, her mouth dropped open and she looked desperately over her shoulder. "Delphine, I left my arrows behind."
Turning her gaze to the empty expanse of Acajou's back, Delphine pressed her lips together. "What." Her voice was flat. Somehow, she was not surprised.
"When I unloaded my things at the inn, I accidentally left my arrows there, too."
Having the sudden urge to crack her companion over the head with her own (now useless) bow, Delphine allowed herself a moment to drag a hand down her face. "Did you remember to bring anything that you could use in this fight? A sword? A knife? Harsh language?"
The Breton's gauntlet-clad hands went to her side. "I have a sword," she said, by way of apology. "It's just that I don't use a bow much because it's hard to aim, you know? I wasn't thinking."
"Apparently, you also weren't thinking when you brought an iron sword to a battle with a dragon." Delphine said sharply. "You'd do better by bringing a sharp stick."
Acajou looked hurt, holding the scabbard protectively against her leg. "It's served me well this far."
Delphine scrutinized the blade. The handle alone looked very, very…flimsy. It was also all this idiot Breton had to defend herself with. "If you say so. It's better than nothing. I'll try to get this son of a bitch on the ground and you can...do whatever you do. Right?"
"Uh, right. I think. I'll try."
Delphine found time to shoot one more look towards the Dovahkiin before she strung her own bow and centered her mind on the battle at hand. Muscles straining, her blonde hair whipping into her eyes, she pulled her arrow back and sighted down its slim length. When Sahloknir presented a clear target for her, she loosed, watching the missile's path through the air until it struck near the dragon's jaw. He shook his head as if a fly had landed on him, swooping low as if to land. Acajou was ready with three poorly-aimed blasts of fire; two of which went wide and set some scraggly trees ablaze. Her cheeks darkened with an embarrassed blush.
Delphine's eagle-eye tracked the dragon through the skies as Acajou shifted back and forth next to her, breathing heavily despite not having exerted herself yet. When Sahloknir banked hard right and veered towards them, Delphine smiled grimly.
"Come on, I'm right here! Come get me!"
The seasoned fighter loosed arrow after arrow towards her oncoming foe, watching each thud into the silver scales, growing progressively more frustrated at his lack of concern.
"Fight me!" Her voice was hoarse with the cold and the beginnings of fear. "You will not ignore me!"
As if on cue, the dragon folded his wings and struck the ground like a meteor, felling a tree somewhere behind them with a sound like bones breaking. Acajou lost her sword, along with her balance, and landed flat on her back. Tail lashing behind him, talons scoring the ground in long, deep furrows, the dragon arched its neck and opened its mouth. Delphine's knees shook as she breathed the reek of blood and death that poured from the creature's maw. Up close, the dragon made her seem like a withered leaf. He could kill her with one careless blow. Her nocked arrow clattered against her bow when she raised it to attack. If she was going to die today, she was going to go with honor. She fixed her gaze on the pulsing silver scales on the dragon's chest and prepared to let fly.
Propped up on her elbows on the frozen ground, Acajou saw the signs of the dragon's next attack: the arched neck, the braced legs, the wings tucked close. The air seemed to get sucked out of her lungs as the beast flared its nostrils and inhaled like a hurricane. Delphine was too focused on the wall of scales directly in front of her to see the telltale glow building behind the dagger-sized teeth and the forked tongue. Panicking, Acajou grabbed her snow-covered sword and hauled herself to her feet, feeling the air crackling around her even as she ran. If she didn't do something, Delphine- brusque, bitchy, unbelieving Delphine -would be instantly killed.
The innkeeper heard the sound of Acajou scrambling into the fight but she didn't dare take her attention away from her target. It was only when she felt an incredible chill building above her helmet did she realize that she had made a stupid, stupid mistake. She knew better than to look up but she knew what was about to happen. There was nowhere to go. Relaxing her fingers, she listened to the satisfying, wet thud of the arrow finding its mark somewhere inconsequential on the dragon's neck as her enemy's mouth opened wide above her.
And then Acajou spoke. It wasn't quite speech, at least not in the sense that Delphine could understand, but they were words ripped from Acajou's throat by desperation to fall upon Delphine's ears like physical blows. Simultaneously, her whole body jerked to the side, legs leaving the ground and flopping over her head as she cartwheeled through the air. Somewhere along the line, she met branches and a sturdy trunk, and her fingers closed automatically on whatever she could grip as her head spun crazily. When the world stopped tipping from side-to-side in her vision, Delphine could see through blurry eyes that the dragon had been flipped onto its back, and stupid, stupid Acajou was standing on its belly and hacking at the flesh at her feet like a clumsy lumberjack. The grip on her sword was bad though and the most damage she was doing was making superficial red marks that bled little and hurt less. The dragon bellowed once, spraying a blizzard into the air from its mouth, and Acajou was off like a jackrabbit across the hill, screaming panicked curses as the dragon flipped over and began its furious pursuit.
Idiot, Delphine thought, blinking stars from her vision and looking around. An oak tree had stopped her from tumbling down the steep hill; her back stung with the contact. She was struggling to a stand, breathing deeply against the pain, when the great sails of the dragon's wings unfurled just over the curve of the hill and he was in the air again. She braced herself against the trunk, widening her eyes when she noticed the dark flow of blood from both sides of the dragon's neck. Had Acajou really managed to injure him?
Sahloknir, apparently more irritated than injured, hovered in the air above the hill much like a swimmer treads water, hissing. If Delphine didn't know any better, she could have sworn he was talking. Then the air warped again, like someone had thrown a stone into a still pond, and she heard those words again, short and guttural. Sahloknir bucked in mid-air and lost his lift, landing heavily on his legs. Immediately his head struck downwards and Delphine heard his jaws snap. They sounded like an executioner's axe falling.
On unsteady legs, she hurried as quickly as she could back towards the battlefield, her freezing fingers clenched around her bow. When she reached the flat peak of the hill, she finally glimpsed Acajou again and let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Blood was visibly smeared down the front and back of the Dovahkiin's armor and she was greatly favoring one leg as she struggled to hold the dragon at bay. She swiped steadily over her head with her sword, hoping that one of her blows would land, not really bothering to strategize or aim. The sight of the Dragonborn waving a weapon with the damage equivalent that a toothpick would cause in a dragon's face nearly made Delphine weep for the future of Skyrim.
And then— hardly surprising to the innkeeper— a backhand stroke planted Acajou's sword firmly against Sahloknir's jawbone. It bit in a quarter of an inch and then snapped like a dead branch, leaving Acajou to stare dumbly at the useless hilt still clutched in her hand. Sahloknir made a noise in his throat that sounded suspiciously like laughter. Helpless. One bite and she'd be done.
"Acajou!" Delpine had the same thought, and she loosed an arrow into the ridge of Sahloknir's back. "Get away from its mouth, idiot!"
The Breton, finally seeming to realize the position she had put herself in, made as if to turn to run, but her injured leg buckled beneath her and she went down like a sack of bricks. Sahloknir dove towards his downed target but was stopped by quickly-strung arrows thudding into his exposed side.
"Over here, you coward!"
Sahloknir cocked his head to the side at the sound of her voice and suddenly his haunches moved as his tail swung through the air like a scythe. The whiplike-end caught Delphine across the back and slammed her stomach-first into the ground. She gagged while trying to catch her breath, dimly aware that the dragon had fixed its attention on her and was curling its neck towards her, mouth open, breathing freezing wind towards her in preparation for another Shout. Furious with herself for letting this animal best her, she rolled onto her back, fighting nausea, and released another arrow. This time it found a painful mark near his eye, or else Sahloknir was weakening, for he threw his head up and bellowed furiously.
That's right, scream, Delphine thought wrathfully. Scream and bleed. Her body was moving mechanically now, in quick, strategic movements that put her behind boulders or just out of reach of Sahloknir's teeth as she struck him again and again with arrows. His silver hide was traced with little red rivers that made Delphine's heart soar when she saw them. Little by little, she was stealing his life. Little by little, she was stepping back into her ancient role, and she loved every second of it. The only problem was that Sahloknir gave as much as he got, and before long both of them were bleeding and nearly driven to exhaustion.
Only when her calloused hand groped vainly for more arrows in the empty quiver on her back did Delphine stop to think where the Dovahkiin had gone. A quick glimpse around the lumpy hilltop showed only scrubby brush and boulders and trees and an injured, furious dragon. Wearily drawing her sword, Delphine tried to circle around Sahloknir to access his soft belly. She kept her eyes fixed on his and he watched her calmly, shifting his body to keep his underside protected. He lunged forward to snap at her when she drew too close but she danced backwards just out of reach of his teeth. In a surprising display of speed that he hadn't exhibited since the beginning of the battle, Sahloknir pushed off of the ground and half-jumped, half-flew to the ridge behind her, spinning around and inhaling, preparing to Shout. He brought his great head down to Delphine's level, close enough so that she could see the burnished gold of his eyes, gloating and terrible.
And then the ground started to shake.
Delphine barely had time for a single thought— a giant? —to flicker through her head before a huge black shape barreled of out her peripheral vision and straight into Sahloknir's skull, crushing it instantly. The dragon's neck swung to the side like a pendulum and his body followed, flopping over once in the time it took for the boulder to bounce once over the slope of the hill and crash through the sparse trees towards Kynesgrove. Sahloknir forgotten, Delphine scrambled, panicked, after it to see where it would end up. She heard the smashing stone and splintering wood even before she reached the ledge to look down into the little village. Even through the thick flurries of snow, she could see the brand new boulder-shaped door in the back wall of the inn, letting the warm light of the fires inside illuminate the wreckage of broken stone and wood that used to be a feed trough. A cow, drawn to the warmth and the smell of mead, picked its way delicately over the stone and stepped inquisitively into the inn, moving around the boulder that sat close to the hole that it had made.
"That was close, wasn't it?"
Delphine spun around to find Acajou standing behind her, shoulders sagging, her body bending under the weight of her armor. She wiped her hand under her nose and sniffed.
"What. The. Hell. Was that."
Oblivious, Acajou flopped onto her rump, removing her helmet. "I Shouted a boulder off of the hill up there," she said proudly. "I figured maybe that would work."
"But you— I —You nearly killed me!" Delphine was so baffled by her companion's stupidity that she was spluttering and tripping over her words. "If there had been any people in the inn you could have killed them, too! Do you ever use your brain? Do you even have one?"
Acajou looked genuinely confused. "But didn't Iddra evacuate the inn?"
"Who knows? I didn't stick around to double-check. You can't count on other people in those circumstances, Acajou. You've got to take people's safety into your own hands if you want the job done right."
Again dragging a hand down her face, Delphine laughed humorlessly. "Killing a dragon via boulder-Shouting. I've heard it all, now." She looked over her shoulder at the moon-colored, hulking form of the dragon, lying quietly as if he was sleeping on the hilltop.
With his powerful legs pinned under his body and his wings folded tight to his sides, Sahloknir looked like a silver boat that had been beached long ago, brittle and gray with age. The spikes on his spine shone in the sunlight and his face looked just as fierce in death, mouth open to show rows of teeth and a lolling, forked tongue. Involuntarily she shuddered at how close she had come to being acquainted with those teeth.
Beside her, Acajou sat with her legs splayed, her gut hanging over her waistband from beneath her armor, coughing wetly into her her hands. Her sword lay forgotten next to her, along with several spilled bottles of potion that made colorful stains of crimson and green on the snow. Her eyes met Delphine's and she smiled uncertainly.
Delphine was about to speak when she heard, rather than saw, what she had been waiting for- a kind of singing in the air, a change in the silence around them. Acajou straightened up and her eyes became very bright, although with eagerness or apprehension Delphine could not tell. Her skin prickled as the air around them grew comfortably warmer; unnerved, she stepped back a few feet, keeping her eyes on Acajou. Sahloknir's misty grey scales stirred and peeled off of his body, fluttering into the sky like embers on the updraft of a fire, exposing his massive skeleton to the mountain air. Transfixed, Delphine held her breath, fixing wide eyes on the sight before her. Then, soundlessly, the soul of the dragon lifted with the breeze out of the dragon's corpse and coursed into the Breton in dancing ribbons of gentle, transparent amber and lavender light. Delphine was amazed that such a beautiful thing could come from Sahloknir. It reminded her of the aurora that reigned over Skyrim's night sky, ageless and beautiful.
And at the center of it was Acajou, lumped on the ground, a goofy smile scrawled on her exhausted face as ethereal light sank into her body. Delphine shook her head at the ridiculousness of the situation.
"Well, by the Nine," she said. "Looks like you were the right son of a bitch after all."
Acajou put a hand on her pudgy stomach. "It kinda feels like puking," she confessed. "The Shouting, I mean. I don't know if I'm doing it right."
"You probably shouldn't use it to hurl boulders through inn walls any more, that's for sure," Delphine said, but a small smile curved her mouth when she said it. No matter how stupid the idea had been, it had worked.
"I guess I should invest in a better sword, then."
"Might be a good idea." Delphine glanced down at her. "You won't get nearly as chewed up next time."
"You don't look so good yourself." Acajou reached down and rubbed her bleeding calf. The iron boot was smeared with blood. "Can we get going now?"
Sahloknir was dead. They had killed a dragon together. True, she was fat and pretty stupid, but Acajou was the Dragonborn. The Greybeards had been correct, for once. Delphine found herself smiling. Finally, decades after her birth, her compass was finally aligning itself with her true purpose once again.
"Yeah," she said, reaching down and helping Acajou to her feet. They stood for a moment, surveying their kill, and then Delphine made to move off down the hill. "We should check the inn to see how much damage you caused. Maybe we can help them rebuild later."
Acajou muttered something.
"Hmm?"
"I kind of feel bad for him," Acajou repeated absently, struggling to untie her empty scabbard from her waist.
Delphine stiffened.
Feel bad for *him*?
Her good mood evaporated, but she bit her tongue. Don't jump to conclusions. Maybe she doesn't mean it like that.
Pretending to be greatly interested in adjusting her boot, Delphine looked out of the corner of her eye at the Dovahkiin. "How so?"
Adjusting the helmet upon her head once more- and pushing it up again after it immediately slipped down over her eyes- Acajou beamed her stupid smile at Delphine.
"I don't know, exactly. I think maybe I'd be okay with killing dragons when they threaten people or livestock, but I don't know if I'd seek them out to kill them." She looked at the dragon's skeleton hulking at her side and furrowed her thick eyebrows. "It feels strange when I eat their souls. I wish it didn't happen."
In two strong steps Delphine was at her side; in another second she had shoved the Dovahkiin onto her back in the snow and had planted her boot squarely on her armored chest. The surprised look on Acajou's face melted into one of fear when she saw Delphine's expression.
"I don't know if you've been taking skooma or what," Delphine said, "but if I ever hear you say those words again, I will gut you. You think you have a say in the matter? If there are dragons in the world again, you must kill them. They are heartless brutes who thrive on the domination and destruction of people like you and me. You cannot have any room in your heart for mercy for these creatures. Skyrim has to depend on you, Akatosh help us, for its survival. Do you think I'm going to support you when I know you actually feel for creatures that have no regard for human life?"
Acajou frowned down at the foot on her chest. "I didn't ask you to help me," she said. She sounded suspiciously like she was pouting. A thirty-some year old woman *pouting*. Delphine wanted to kick her in the jaw.
Careful, careful. You might scare her away. Think of the big picture. You need her help more than she needs yours.
Taking a calming breath through her nose, Delphine chose her words carefully, knowing she was treading on glass. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to argue with you. I thought that, as the Dragonborn, you would use your gift for the good of mankind. I'm not asking you to kill your best friend, for the gods' sake. I'm asking you to fulfill your destiny by eradicating the creatures who want to enslave us."
The cold wind howled around the hill and Sahloknir's bones clattered softly together. The defiant look in Acajou's eyes faded and she sniffed to clear her stuffed nose. "Okay, Delphine," she said placidly. "I'm sorry."
Delphine was still tense, but Acajou's apology would have to do. She shivered, embarrassed about her unease around the dragon's skeleton. It still seemed to be watching her. "Come on, then," she said. "We're done here."
The Breton patiently brushed the snow off of the backs of her legs, her docile expression entirely readable. "It's going to be a cold walk back," she said pleasantly. "I'm in the mood for some soup." She dug around in the pouch at her side and pulled out a hunk of bread. "What was all the stuff you going to tell me about, again?"
Delphine examined her face before replying. When she did, her voice was quiet. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know on the way back to Riverwood. It'll take at least that long to explain everything to you."
Acajou smiled around the bite she had taken and waddled off down the hill, nearly tripping over Sahloknir's tail as she did so.
Delphine watched the Dovahkiin's back with careful eyes. The potential for her stupidity and naivete to lead her down the wrong path was boundless. She had to make absolutely sure that Acajou didn't stray from the path that Delphine was forging for her. Lifting her head, she fixed the intensity of her gaze on the huge mountain that cut into the sky to the southwest, on the cloud-shrouded peak that shielded her silent foes.
Soon, she thought. Soon.
Please let me know what you think! I couldn't get this idea out of my head and I think I'm going to have a lot of fun writing it! :) Updates will come weekly. Thanks for reading!