Opening Notes; And the wheel begins to turn once more. Heed Our Voice has begun anew, and this time, we pick up right where the last one ended, with the appropriately named Skyfall event. This begins immediately before and after that event, so you'll want to read the first part of this epic before beginning this one. For those faithful readers who have already read the first part however, I bid you welcome and I sincerely hope you enjoy the sequel.

Adios and may the Nine watch your backs, and thank you for your support and encouragement at the start of this journey. It is more appreciated than you could guess.

A quick shout out to Archer83, Doctor Eagle, Nomad-117, and Darkstorm Zero for their support and encouragement as well. Without you, I wouldn't have been able to finish Heed Our Voice, let alone begin its sequel. Thank you guys, truly. Anyway, let's see where this new addition takes us shall we? Hehe.

Beyond the Wall

Far beyond the Wall, in the coldest reaches of the North, in the Land of Always Winter, something ancient began to stir. When the sky shattered and the barrier fell, it shook the world to the core. As such, when raw, uncontrolled magic covered the reunited worlds once more, it did far more than anyone could ever realize, even in their darkest nightmares. Something began to stir, and it did not wish to be disturbed. It had found peace in the cold and snow of its homeland, and new warmth and life dared to encroach upon their realms. They would answer this intrusion the only way they knew how.

Below the foot layer of ice and snow, blue, cold dead eyes snapped open before a gaunt, skeletal fist punched through the ice cold ground. Ice flew in every direction before a head forced itself through the hole, and took a ragged, shuddering breath, filling frozen, stiff lungs with air after thousands of years of having been in frozen hibernation.

The hole sooned widened as more white as snow fists shattered their tomb's ancient cover of ice and snow, before thirteen, wispy gray haired beings stood on the edges of the hole they had created in their bid for freedom. They stood there, unmoving, unbreathing as life returned to their cold, unnatural bodies. While they looked like men at a distance, they were as far from such simple beings of flesh, blood, and warmth as one could get. They had never known warmth, and they preferred it that way. They were the cold, given form.

The mortal meat that feared them had given them names, but they cared not for such labels or titles. White Walkers, Others, the Bringers of the Long Night, it didn't matter, for they existed only for one purpose now. To destroy the realms of man, and to plunge the world into a frozen waste. Their sleep had been disturbed, and they would set it right the only way they knew how. But first, they needed an army.

Looking to their elders once they had freed themselves from their own tombs of ice, the soldiers knelt as their leaders, beings far more powerful than they, approached from the distant ice fortress that lay before them. Strange words were passed between the soldiers and the thirteen, and soon enough, the first of the White Walkers departed from their ancient home. He would see what was out there, beyond their borders, and bring the first of their dead warriors to the fold. From there they would spread, until every man, woman, and child this side of the great barrier of ice, stone, and fire could not hope to stand against their numbers. And once they had slaughtered or changed every mortal, they would attack the Wall. Only once the Wall fell, nothing would stop them, and the Long Night would come again.

The Wall

Durak had left the Old Bear's office with a bad case of the chills the day he had told him and his two allies of the White Walkers, of how they had brought the Long Night with them in ancient times. He had seen many things, had buried two wives when they had been turned into vampires, but something about Joer's stories about the Walkers chilled even his blood.

He'd fought undead, in all of their forms. Vengeful spirits, zombies, and vampires mostly, but none of them had quite the impact these Walkers seemed to have on this world. No one had built a giant wall made of ice and stone to hold back an entire undead legion before. Whatever these things were capable of, warranted not only that, but an entire group devoted to keeping them in check, even if the Night's Watch protected against the Free Folk these days. But Joer hadn't forgotten their true purpose, and he had made himself, Celann, and Agmaer wonder if they were guarding against the wrong enemy. Yes, the Free Folk were a danger, having seen at least one group of angers return with wounded among their number when they ran into a group of wildlings, but Durak still couldn't help but wonder.

Standing on the Wall itself, Durak had his axe out, slung across his shoulder as he stared out at the great waste that lay below and before him. Beside him were several rangers of the Night's Watch. "I never get tired of the view. It's a beautiful country out here, even if it's just as cold as Skyrim on its worst day."

"You talk about it often enough Durak." One of the men said, smiling up at the imposing orc. "Why would you ever want to leave… now that's the mystery. It sounds a lot better than this place by far."

Durak chuckled and nodded his head. He hadn't been shy about telling the men of the Watch about Tamriel, about Skyrim in particular. It was no surprise then that they wanted to learn more about it, or to wish to go there themselves. "Too many memories, good and bad. When the call came for men and women to follow the Dovahkiin, I was one of the first in line." Durak replied, his mind going back to when he had had to kill his two wives before signing on with the Dawnguard. It had not been a good time for him until he had met Isran.

Benjen Stark, having returned from his ranging just the day before, nodded his head in understanding as the other rangers looked up at the orc inquisitively. He had been able to read between the lines well enough, and he recognized the look in the orc's eyes. He had lost people close to him, it was plain to see in the green skinned warrior's face. "Who was she?" Benjen asked hesitantly, knowing well the orc's capabilities in a fight. His duel with Alliser had grown outlandish by the time he returned, but he had gotten the truth from Joer.

"They." Durak replied, surprising Benjen as well as the men. "I lost two wives in four years. They were taken from me by….something that looked like men, but they were something else altogether. It pained me to see them… like that, but they weren't the women I loved any longer. They had become like the monsters that took them, so I did the only thing I could do. I took their heads off and scattered their ashes."

Benjen raised an eyebrow at Durak's frankness. "I am sorry, my friend."

"It was a few years ago," Durak replied, trying to shrug it off, "but I still find myself thinking about them."

"Just when I thought I had you figured out Durak, you reveal more than most assume there is to see." Benjen said after an uncomfortable silence had fallen between them.

"Oh I'm a simple orc at the end of the day." Durak shot back, cracking a grin at the Stark beside him. "I live to fight and die with a blade in my hand. But for a while….even I gave that up to raise a family, or at least tried to. The cunts that call themselves our Divines had other ideas."

"You blame your gods for what happened to your wives?" the first ranger asked.

"I blame the Daedric bastard, Molag Bal. He began the plague that took my wives from me. The Divines just don't do shit about him and the rest of the Daedra is all." Durak took a breath and forced himself to calm down before he spoke anew. "The Divines might not do much, but they don't try to fuck us over every chance they get. The Daedra do that and more."

"Sound like vicious sons of whores to me." Another of the men said, earning a collection of nods and murmurs of agreements from the rest. Benjen said nothing, but he silently agreed with their assessment.

Durak meanwhile just shrugged but turned back to the land that spread out before him. "You have no idea." He growled quietly in response.

"Is that why you joined the Dawnguard, then?" Benjen asked. "To rid the world of the same monsters that your wives had turned into?"

Durak looked at the black-haired man. "You say it like it's a bad choice."

"I'm not," Benjen replied. "I just hope that's the reason is not revenge. Revenge can be dangerous, can blind one to many things in life. You didn't join so you can get revenge on Molag Bal for what he did to your wives.

Durak shook his head, "I joined so that what happened to my wives wouldn't happen to anyone else's."

"And people say you don't have a heart." One of the rangers said, earning him a hearty laugh from the orc.

"People say a lot of things about my kind, boy, but we're not much different from the rest of you. We just like our killing more than most." Durak shot back before looking at Benjen. The First Ranger only smiled and nodded his approval. There was nothing more to say between them on the matter… until the sky shattered like glass. It was like a giant mirror in the sky, and colorful light poured out from in between the cracks. Eventually the strain became too much and great pieces fell away, dissolving into nothing long before they touched the ground, revealing a sight he recognized all too easily.

Benjen was the first to guess what had likely happened from the furious growl in Durak's voice as his gaze fell, as did every man within Castle Black's, on the twin moons that now hung above them amidst a star strewn sky. The lights in the sky were the same in their colors, but they were far brighter now, as were the stars above them, streaked with reds and purples, even shades of blue and green. Benjen took it all in at a glance before turning to Durak. "Daedra?" With what Durak had just told them, it seemed reasonable the old rules of their world were about to go up in smoke.

"What do you think?! Move!" Durak roared as he pushed past the other rangers, his ears already picking up on the screams of the panicking men below them in the castle. Joer would be ill equipped to handle this on his own, and Agmaer and Celann would need his help in this mess. Durak wasn't about to leave the Old Bear to deal with this by himself. Besides, as Benjen Stark was so fond of saying, Winter was Coming.

Except he was wrong. It had already arrived.

Pentos

Illyrio was a hard man to frighten. He dealt with Dothraki and worse on a regular basis. He had seen the Warlocks of Qarth, and had dealt with priests and priestesses from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai. He had seen many strange things in his time as a merchant, but never before had he imagined anything like what he was seeing now. And from the look on Jenna's face, she hadn't seen anything like it either.

That was what unnerved him the most. Her stories thus far had given him an idea of the kind of power was typical of the people of Tamriel. In rare cases, it wasn't unheard of for men with considerable ambition to try and cheat death, and even succeed in a few exceptionally rare cases, to a group of fanatics ripping open gates to a Hellish plane of existence called Oblivion, but never before had she said anything that involved the sky shattering and becoming dark. "Do you have an idea of what might have caused this rather….outlandish event my dear?" He managed to ask, ignoring the scared gasps from Dany while her brother could only open and close his mouth in shock.

Jenna had to shake her head and tried to clear her racing thoughts. This was beyond anything she'd ever seen before in her life, and that was saying a lot. She had been raised among the Thalmor, who practiced magical sorcery and military might with every breath. But even they could not accomplish such a feat, as far as she knew. Then she recalled something that Eldria had been quick to try and dismiss. Something about a fallen star, and the power of Azura. "I might have an idea." Jenna said at last, drawing an inquisitive look from the fat, bearded merchant. "I heard a rumor that my former Mistress was seeking to...acquire, an item of considerable power, one able to open a doorway back to Tamriel."

"And you believe something has happened with this….item?" Illyrio asked, reading between the lines of Jenna's response. 'Acquire' needed no explanation for him.

"It's the only explanation that makes sense to me." Jenna replied and nodded to the twin moons, and the stars she had grown up with her whole life. The lights that danced across Skyrim's skies and most of the north weren't present here, but the bright reds, greens, and dark blue streaks of vibrant colors were. "Somehow, either we've been dragged to Tamriel, or Tamriel has been pulled to this world."

"Tamriel?" Illyrio's eyes went wide. "Tamriel here?!"

"Somewhere out there, it would seem so." Jenna replied before kneeling down to Dany's level, her eyes wide as saucers. "But if that is the case, we're not in any immediate danger. I know the people of that land, they are just like we are at the end of the day. They simply hold different beliefs than you do." Whether her words had been meant for Illyrio or Dany, he couldn't say, but Illyrio was willing to guess they hadn't been meant for him. Even so, he filed them away and simply nodded his head. It was as good as explanation as any, and beyond the fact the sky had changed, everything seemed to be as it had been before.

Viserys at least had recovered on his own as he looked up at the new sky with interest. "It would seem your gods aren't being idle." He had heard many of the same tales she had told to Dany, and while he hadn't believed them, Jenna hadn't cared. But now, things had changed.

"I don't think they had anything to do with this one." Jenna replied, finding it incredibly hard to believe the Divines had tore the sky apart. "Regardless of who was responsible," Jenna began before she stood to her feet after running a hand through Dany's hair, "the days to come will no doubt hold great change for us all."

"You can be assured of that." Viserys stated, before walking away with his usual arrogance on full display.

Jenna followed his progress and rolled her blue eyes at the young man's stupidity. "That comment I made wasn't to stroke his already inflated ego."

Illyrio chuckled but said nothing as he walked away, leaving Jenna and Dany to their own devices. Things would indeed change, and Illyrio had plans already in mind to take full advantage of the situation. A new people equalled new opportunities for trade, and more, if he played his cards right. And he was determined to be at the front of the line. He'd have to send envoys of course, trusted men that were loyal only to him, but he'd take advantage of this unexpected twist in all of their fortunes. It was what he was good at.

The Narrow Sea

On the way to Dorne…

"Huh. That is not something you see everyday." Prince Oberyn of Dorne stated as he looked up at the sky with his family standing behind him on the upper deck of the Martell ship. After what he had seen while he was visiting Monahven, and the people of House Dovahkiin, seeing the sky shatter wasn't so surprising to him. Magic was as natural for them as breathing, and he was willing to bet something unexpected had happened involving the force in question. Accidents happened all the time after all. Even so, he couldn't blame the astonished and scared looks on his children's faces, as well as many of the guards that were also on deck at the time.

Lucia could only gape at the unexpected sight of the all too familiar stars and moons above them now. Somehow, home had been brought to her, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Mostly though, she was afraid, because she couldn't shake the feeling something terrible had happened back home. "Something's gone wrong in Monahven." Lucia whispered, but it had been loud enough to be heard by most of the Sand Snakes and their mother.

Oberyn looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "Truly? Someone made the foolish decision to tangle with the dragon?" His pet nickname for Giselle aside, Oberyn found it surprising someone had been stupid enough to go against the formidable woman.

"There's always someone who thinks they can take down a dragon. And the Dragonborn is especially prone to getting into….trouble." Lucia hesitantly explained, knowing all too well how many times Giselle had returned to Whiterun with someone else's blood on her. "I don't know who might have done this, I only know what I can see and what I feel. Something's bad happened."

"I imagine we'll be hearing about it soon enough either way." Oberyn replied softly, hoping to allay Lucia's fears. He believed her when she said something had happened, but he doubted Giselle had been hurt in the process. From what little he had seen of her might, he found it hard to believe anyone in Westeros could stand against her for long. "For now, I plan to enjoy the view. Perhaps you can teach my children about your stars while we sail for home?"

"I know I find the view quite….alluring." Nymeria stated softly, her eyes having never left the darkened sky above them. "I cannot speak for my sisters though."

"It is pretty but that is all it is." Obara said with a shrug, but she wasn't fooling anyone as her own eyes kept drifting towards the heavens. Tyene merely shrugged, but it was obvious she was just as fascinated by the strange change, even if she didn't say as much.

Despite their reassurances, Lucia still couldn't shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong. But she didn't say anything further on the matter. What could she do about it anyway? She was going further away from Monahven, not closer, and all because the Lannisters had found a way to force Jon to send her off.

She knew he hadn't had a choice in the matter, not if Tywin threatened his home, and he would have if half the stories she'd heard about him were true. But that didn't make it any easier to bear. Jon had given up too easily, and she had paid the price. Cersei got what she wanted at last and had her shipped off, away from her children, and Tywin got a chance to harass her mother again, this time with the King behind him. And now the sky had shattered. If Tywin had needed ample reason to give Giselle trouble, he had just gotten far more than he'd ever need.

Then she remembered what Ellaria had told her the night before. Looking to Oberyn's paramour now, Lucia took a breath and nodded her head to the raven haired woman. She returned the gesture, and smiled subtly before Lucia seemed to visibly relax. In truth, Lucia was trying to let her worries disappear, and shaping them into something she could draw upon later, as Ellaria said Oberyn did. If she was going to survive in this land, she'd need all the strength she could get, where the capacity for cruelty and injustice was far greater than it had ever been in Skyrim. Here, only the strong survived.

The Rills

Monahven

The next morning

Giselle was still bedridden when the raven came, but she was aware enough to realize that she was being summoned to King's Landing. She scoffed and burned the letter with a soft breath of her Thu'um before scattering the ashes over the side of her bed. "Tywin Lannister's doing, I imagine. It's not enough he forces my adopted daughter into exile, now he demands my presence as well. Of course, I imagine he'll have sent a second letter tomorrow by now, with the sky breaking as it has. Something we can thank Azura for, but he won't care."

Serana nodded while Dranos growled a curse in her native tongue. She had had enough of politics to last her two lifetimes, both with Martin and during her youth in Morrowind. "The Game never changes, only the players do." Dranos hissed, but stood to her feet, her hand clenching and relaxing around the hilt of her sword. "Here's a message you can send back. Korbin's head, with a detailed explanation of Joroth's latest plot to cause us trouble. As well as the fact you nearly died in his desperate attempt to fight his way free."

"Here's a better idea," Miaran growled as she stood against the wall, her arms crossed over her steel armored breastplate, "how about we hop on our dragons and just burn his fucking ass to the ground? Him and all of those scumbag Lannisters and their supporters?" She hadn't been around long, but she'd heard enough stories about the Lannisters to know she didn't like them.

"I will not be responsible for plunging this world into chaos, even if I agree with you it'd be the simplest way to end our problems." Giselle sighed and ran a hand down her face before looking up towards Miaran. "Believe me, I want to, more than you know, but I won't. Sometimes the only right course is to be the reasonable one. Tywin might be a threat, but he's only one man. He has his allies, but we also have ours." Something that she had almost forgotten, but yesterday had proven that she had more allies and friends than she deserved. "And we have the truth on our side. This might be the harder road, but it is the right one."

"The truth? What good will that do us against those snakes in the capital?" Dranos growled, her red eyes glowing brightly in her rage from underneath her low hood. Despite her gray robes, those in the room knew she had on her Daedric armor from her days as the Heroine.

"It'll work better than going in with dragons and setting them to the torch." Serana retorted, glaring at Dranos and Miaran equally. "I understand it's frustrating, but I agree with Giselle. We've been here longer, we know how they think. We can beat them at their own game. The plan you want to use would only have Tywin's allies rallying behind him as a martyr. We'd be overrun, and we would die. Then who will be here when the Elder Scroll prophecy comes around?"

"Wait, what fucking prophecy?" Miaran asked, surprise in her brown eyes as she jerked her gaze from her mother to her lover and back again. "Does anyone want to clue me in or should I get Odahviing down here?"

Giselle blew out a long breath, seeing already that Miaran was going to be a giant pain in her ass, but she pushed that thought to the back of her mind for now. She'd cross that bridge when she had to. Instead, she jerked her head to the door, and Serana immediately ran to it and shut it before going about the room, closing all the windows. Miaran raised an eyebrow at the obvious need for secrecy, but said nothing. Dranos didn't react save to lean against another wall, having heard this story already. Once the room was secured and Serana back in her original spot, only then did Giselle speak. "When this journey started nearly a year ago, an Imperial Moth Priest came to Whiterun, to my home in Breezehome. He had brought an Elder Scroll with him."

"Oh." Miaran managed to stammer out, surprised by this turn of events. Even she knew the legendary power of the Scrolls. Everyone did to some extent or another, and she knew that to ignore a prophecy was to invite all kinds of trouble.

Giselle only nodded before she continued. "Like all Elder Scrolls, it could be interpreted a hundred different ways, but what was clear was the destination, and our time to get here. It made mention of a threat that would bring this world to its knees, and now with Azura's Star shattering, it looks like we might be getting into the first phase of the prophecy. The next, if I remember it right, is yet to come, but I don't need a Scroll to tell me what's on the horizon.'

"This land is a fireball waiting to go off." Serana finished while Dranos nodded in agreement. "It might not be tomorrow, it might not be next year, but eventually, Westeros is going to be engulfed in a war that will rip this land apart."

"And that's….bad." Miaran half stated, half inquired in equal measure, much to Serana's amusement and Giselle's annoyance. Dranos remained impassive, but a slight gleam in her red eyes said she hadn't missed the comment.

"Depends on your perspective." The vampire replied, smirking at the young dunmer's response before her smirk disappeared. "Seriously, I have to agree with your mother on this one. I might not like Westeros anymore than Dranos, or you, but I've seen enough bloodshed to last me five lifetimes."

"As have I, but you don't see me trying to scrape for their favor." Dranos growled, not about to back down. Age hadn't made her temper any better apparently.

"Enough!" Giselle shouted, before taking a breath once Dranos had fallen silent. "This is how this is going to happen, and I'd rather have your help than have you get in my way. We only have, maybe, three hundred people here, half of which aren't able to fight. We cannot afford to cause a war, so those people in the capital need to be quieted down before they have a chance to gather their bannermen against us. I will not be remembered as a warmongering tyrant like the Thalmor. Or the Mythic Dawn. Or the Mad King of this world."

Dranos snapped her hooded face up at the reminder, but she almost immediately looked away. With a sigh, all the strength seemed to run out of her. "You're right….on all counts Giselle. I don't like politics, I...left Morrowind long ago to get away from the game, but it would seem I must get involved in this world's political arena if we're to survive what's coming. Just don't expect me to like it."

"Well, I still say we take the dragons in and just deal with the problem in one fly by." Miaran grunted, but held up a hand when Giselle started to open her mouth. "I said it'd be the easiest, mother, but you're right, as much as I don't want to agree with you on anything. But that doesn't mean we should go in weak. They want to complain about us being dragon mad and whatever else, maybe we can prove otherwise by showing off the fact our dragons aren't like….whatever they dealt with before."

"They aren't our dragons, but your idea has…. merit." Giselle stroked her chin and thought over her daughter's words. It might not be enough to prove their dragons weren't the violent Targaryen variants, especially after Azura's Star had brought their worlds together as it had, but it was better than nothing. Besides, it might win them some sympathy if they showed up, and Giselle could barely stand from her fight with Korbin and his men.

"Do you want to wait until you are well enough to travel on dragon back?" Serana asked at length, and when Giselle shook her head, the vampire rolled her eyes. "Of course not, that'd be doing something sensible."

"Is she always this stubborn?" When everyone looked at her like she had spoken in Dovahzul, Miaran scoffed and waved dismissively in response. "Ask a stupid question…"

Giselle ignored her daughter's muttered comment before looking to Serana. "It's more I'm hoping that by showing the people in Westeros that we're just as frail as they are, that they might not be so quick to jump down our throats."

"Or it might give the Lannisters a reason to pounce on us all the quicker by suggesting we're not all powerful." The vampire countered, but nodded her agreement all the same despite her personal misgivings. "I don't like it, and from the way Dranos is grinding her teeth, she doesn't either," Dranos only narrowed her eyes at the vampire's quip but said nothing, "but I agree. It might be our best chance. Go to the capital from a position of strength, while at the same time showing them we're like them at the end of the day. I know Jon's reasonable, and he's one of Robert's oldest friends and a father figure to the king."

"I also had a second thought." Giselle began slowly. "We contact Eddard Stark before we head to the capital."

"Why?" Dranos asked, genuinely curious now.

"Robert and Eddard are old friends, they fought together, they bled together, and they took down the Mad King, Aerys Targaryen's, men together. They also fought in the Greyjoy Rebellion. If we can convince Eddard of our harmlessness, overall, we can bring him with us to convince Robert as well. He's the one we need to worry about since he is the King after all. Besides, we'll need to explain to him what happened anyway, he'll no doubt want answers like everyone else in Westeros." Giselle fell silent again for a moment before speaking once more. "Also, Eddard Stark has close ties with the Night's Watch. His brother, Benjen, is there, and if the most recent letter we got from Durak, Celann, and Agmaer is to be believed, the White Walkers and their armies of wights are what we're here to stop."

"It's too early to tell," Serana began, "but I'd say so as well. But let's worry about that problem once we've taken care of this royal summons."

"Agreed," Giselle replied. "One thing at a time."

"Well, if we're going by dragon back, I call Odahviing." Miran quipped.

"That's fine," Giselle gave a small, wry chuckle. "I prefer to ride on Paarthurnax anyway."

"I thought you liked to ride me?" Serana teased.

"Really? You had to go there in front of me?" Miaran groaned and shook her head in a mixture of embarrassment and surprise.

"Don't complain unless you've tried it." Serana quipped back.

"Oh, I have. Trust me, just… not with a woman. Or a vampire for that matter."

"Gods," now it was Giselle who groaned, "I didn't need to know that."

"Now you know how I felt… mother." Miaran said, a smirk on her face.

"Amateurs." Dranos retorted, smirking as she hummed a tune on her way out the door, but stopped and grinned over her left shoulder. "I could tell you stories that'd make even Sanguine blush. This was before I met Martin mind you….but let's just say he didn't mind my more...adventurous nature. He was in a cult devoted to Sanguine in his youth, so he was more adventurous than most."

"Suddenly I feel very dirty and unclean." Serana muttered while Giselle and Miaran tried not to shudder at the innuendo-heavy comment Dranos had left in her wake.

"This coming from a woman who likes to tie me to the bed." Giselle chuckled quietly, while Miaran groaned loudly in disgust and ran for the door.

"You scared her off," Serana grinned, her fangs gleaming, "I didn't think you had it in you."

"It's good for her, builds character." Giselle said with a shrug before throwing the sheets off herself and sitting up on the side of the bed. She shook her head when a wave of dizziness hit her, but she waved off Serana when she started to rush to her side. "I'm alright, just give me a moment."

Serana just shook her head. "Stubborn ice brain."

"You wouldn't have me any other way." Giselle retorted as she fought back the dizziness and hesitantly stood to her feet. When she was sure she wasn't going to fall over, she turned and smirked at the vampire at her side.

"True." Serana put her arms around Giselle's waist, "but one of these days, you're going to bite off more than you can chew."

Tamriel

Skyrim, Solitude

The Blue Palace

For those in Tamriel, when the sky shattered, it was just as surprising to the magically inclined society as it had been for those across the sea. Panic began almost immediately, but they were far quicker to recover than their new, distant neighbors for the same reason. They knew magic when they saw it, and while this was on a scale that was well beyond the norm, when it became apparent there wasn't a threat knocking on their gates, they started to relax. It helped that Elisif the Fair was on top of the situation, reassuring her people that whatever had occurred, she'd do all she could to find out the cause and to do what she had to to protect their land in the process.

In truth, Elisif was just as terrified as the rest of them as her council ran about in a panic of their own. They were already sending letters to every corner of the Empire, demanding answers from the College of Winterhold as well as anyone else that might have an idea as to what had occurred. She even heard Falk Firebrand shout out an order to have a letter sent to the Dragonborn, if they could find her if she didn't contact them first, to see if she had an idea as to what had occurred.

Whatever the case, Elisif sat on her throne, full of nervous energy and jerking her head up at every little noise. Calming herself wasn't working, not when everyone else was just as scared as she was, but she did her best to appear strong and resolute for those that depended on her. It wasn't easy though.

"Sybille," the queen called out to her court wizard, "what do you make of this?"

Sybille looked out at the sky, her vampire eyes seemingly aglow with alarm. "If I didn't know better, I'd say it was the work of the Daedra." Their sky hadn't changed, but the cracks and the eventual fall had been seen by everyone. That had been enough to clue them in that something extremely out of the ordinary had occurred. Even so, Sybille could only speculate. "I can't be certain, not this soon after this event, but if I were a gambling woman, I'd say you are right. Only the Daedra would do something like this."

"Why? What do they hope to accomplish?" Elisif asked, but she had a feeling she already knew the answer.

"They're the Daedra," Sybille said with a shrug. "With them, you never know."

"Which means it could be any number of reasons." Elisif replied with a great sigh.

"But I can say this much." The vampire began as she pushed away from the wall and soon stood at the High Queen's side. "I wouldn't be surprised if this had something to do with the Elder Scroll and the Dragonborn. We should have heard from her by now, yet she hasn't opened a gate on her end. That leads me to believe something might have happened to Azura's Star." The rest of her thought she left unsaid, but Elisif didn't need the vampire to say it because she was thinking it too. Something might have happened to Giselle herself, and that was somehow more terrifying than whatever game the Daedra were up to now.

"Whatever the case," Elisif began slowly as she ran a hand down her face and gratefully accepted a glass of wine from the court wizard, "we need to find out what's occurred. To do that, we need to find the Dovahkiin and her people. I fear we're going to need her now more than ever."

"Of course your Grace." Sybille replied, bowed her head, and hurried out of the main hall.

Elisif leaned back in her throne and tried to ignore the way her hand was shaking as she brought her glass up to her lips again. Tonight was going to be a long one for everyone.

Whiterun

Jarl Balgruuf had been having a peaceful dinner with his children on the balcony that overlooked Whiterun, when the sky cracked and shattered. Like everyone else, he had felt a surge of panic, but he hadn't let it linger for long. He was a Nord, and he had survived the civil war against Ulfric Stormcloak and his rebellious soldiers, thanks in no small part to the Dragonborn.

He had taken charge of the situation almost immediately, and wasn't surprised when the Companions came calling. Giselle hadn't taken all of them with her when she had left to find Westeros, which she had by what the Queen had told him. Even so, it took some time before the ones that had stayed behind were mollified, and Balgruuf was able to take a few precious moments to prepare himself for the next group that would surely be knocking on his door.

Giselle Morgonnis had come to Whiterun three, going on four years ago now, but Balgruuf had seen her change over the course of her time in Skyrim. He could still remember how she had all but coerced coin out of him, making it clear that she was only concerned for herself. To look at her now though, he had to wonder if she was the same person. His hatred of her had been well founded, since it hadn't taken him long to hear similar tales of her weaseling her fee from anyone that had the coin. It wasn't the loss of coin that had angered him however, it was her disregard for everyone in her path. Respect was earned among those in Skyrim, not demanded, and the way she had been going, she would have wound up dead in a ditch somewhere.

Then the second dragon had attacked the watchtower, and Balgruuf had been the first to notice how she had begun to change. Into what, no one had been certain at the time, only that she had started to let people closer to her, if only slightly. Even in those early days, he had seen the pain and rage behind her brown eyes, in the way she carried herself, and he had even begun to feel pity and sympathy for her. But she hadn't made it easy, until she had been discovered to be the Dragonborn after consuming her first dragon soul. Even then, even after she had been summoned to High Hrothgar, Balgruuf learned that she had avoided the home of the Greybeards like the plague for a full year before she finally relented and embraced her destiny.

In that time, rumors abounded of a series of break ins, thefts, and assassinations all across Skyrim. No one knew who was to blame, save for the fact it seemed both the Thieves Guild and the Dark Brotherhood had found new life about the same time. Balgruuf had his suspicions, even now, but even he had been at a loss for the sudden outbreak of death and disorder that followed in that year. Then Giselle had returned to Whiterun, calmer, quieter, and had soon joined the Companions, and even took in a child soon afterward. This was so out of character for her that Balgruuf wondered what she had seen and experienced, but had never had the heart to ask her. He was just happy she had changed, for the better apparently, and he wasn't about to press the issue and risk her going back to old habits. What surprised him more was the heartfelt apology she gave him shortly before she settled down in Breezehome.

The following two years saw Alduin slain, the Volkihar vampire clan destroyed, Ulfric Stormcloak defeated and his army scattered, and Miraak, the First Dragonborn, forever lost to Hermaeus Mora. All of these events had one person at their heart: Giselle Morgonnis, the Dragonborn, the Dovahkiin, Ysmir, Dragon of the North… the hero of the world. Whatever her past, whatever pain she had brought with her, she had moved past it to become what they had needed in their most desperate hour.

Whatever was going on now, Jarl Balgruuf was sure of one thing. Giselle would do what she could to ensure peace in her own way, but that didn't mean he had the right to sit on his laurels. That wasn't what he did anyway. Turning to Irileth just as she began to approach the throne, Balgruuf sat up and nodded to his old friend and battle companion. "I was just lost in memories Irileth. Send in the next group. Until we receive word from the Dragonborn or Queen Elisif, saying that the world is about to go to Oblivion, it is business as usual for us."

"Of course my Jarl." The dunmer bowed and went to follow her orders.

"Farengar," the Jarl called out. "Does the dragon tablet or any of your books have something to say about this?"

The court wizard, having come out of his lab all in an excitement tizzy, had calmed down somewhat by this point, and could only shake his head. Out of everyone there, he had been ecstatic by what had occurred, not frightened. "No my Jarl, there's nothing. But if I were to take an educated guess, the lack of communication via Azura's Star suggests it might be related in some way. Lady Morgonnis would have sent word if she were able, which leads me to believe something happened to the artifact in her possession."

"Or to Lady Morgonnis herself." Irileth growled back, angry over Farengar's apparent disregarded for the Dragonborn's safety and wellbeing.

Farengar wasn't intimidated by the dunmer's withering glare and merely shrugged. "I don't believe that's the case here Irileth. If something had happened to the Dragonborn, one of her companions would have sent word themselves, but there hasn't been anything. No, I strongly believe the Star itself is somehow involved. It makes the most logical sense."

"That begs the question then," Balgruuf began, "what could have happened?"

"Stolen seems the most logical conclusion, if it were just a lack of communication from where Giselle's appropriately named House Dovahkiin has settled, but the...event, suggests something far more. Skyfall, that's what I think I'll call it." Farengar excitedly exclaimed before clearing his throat and getting back on track. "It is well known in the magical community that Daedric artifacts are nigh unbreakable, except I've heard rumors regarding a disgraced colleague that say he and his old master found a way to alter one. Azura's original Star, a soul gem apparatus that can be refilled over and over. As we know from her reports, she was given a new star, one able to open a door between our two worlds. Perhaps the Skyfall is related in some way. Perhaps it was the portal star itself that shattered."

"If the portal star shattered, then that might explain why the sky shattered." Balgruuf began slowly, hoping Farengar was wrong, but the proof suggested otherwise. "We need more information. Regardless if we receive word from Queen Elisif or not, I want to know how far this Skyfall has reached. If it's just Skyrim that was affected, or the whole of Tamriel. We need to know."

Westeros

King's Landing

They had never seen anything like it before. Not even the old stories of the Children held anything close to the power that had shattered the sky. Needless to say, the entire city was on edge, from the lowliest servant to the highest noble, everyone was equal in their terror. Even Tyrion Lannister had been astonished and shocked into a rare bout of silence, but he had waddled to the Small Council chambers as soon as he had regained his senses. Knowing his father and Jon Arryn, they'd have gathered the council the first chance they had once they had gotten past their own shock. Even if he wasn't invited, he wasn't about to be dismissed, not this time. This affected him as much as anyone else.

As expected, Tywin Lannister was standing away from the table, on King Robert's right while Jon Arryn as Hand of the King stood on his left. Petyr Baelish, Stannis and Renly Baratheon, Grand Maester Pycelle, and Varys were already there. Barristan Selmy was also present, but that wasn't so surprising, as was Jaime. They were Kingsguard, they protected the King, and where he went, they weren't far behind. The entire Kingsguard were present, but Tyrion didn't pay the rest of the fools a second glance as he pulled his own chair to the table, ignoring the looks from his sister and father as he did. When he sat down, Tyrion folded his hands over his stomach and tried to appear as nonchalant as possible. "I see we have quite the lovely view tonight."

"Your powers of observation are as astonishing as ever Lord Tyrion." Petyr stated with a nod of his head. "We're all thinking it I imagine, so I'll say it. House Dovahkiin is the cause of this latest….event."

"I always said they were demons and worse." Pycelle intoned, drawing everyone's eyes to him. "This latest travesty is their doing. I'd give up my chain on it being truth."

"I would like to see you without your chain, Grand Maester," Tyrion quipped, "But perhaps you're right, in that they had a hand in this. But I don't think it was intentional."

"You've always been too friendly with them brother." Cersei sneered, making it no secret her hatred for the foreigners. "From the very first day they've been on our shores, they have disrespected our family."

"No, they just didn't like you and father if I recall." Tyrion replied with a smile and a shrug. "You didn't exactly make a good impression when you had their captain of the guard assassinated by the Hound during the King's Nameday Tournament celebration."

"And their bitch burned him alive with her mouth alone." Cersei retorted sharply.

"An eye for an eye," Tyrion shrugged. "Not that I could blame her. If you had bothered to get to know them like I did, you'd have learned that Delphine and Lady Morgonnis had been very old friends."

"Lord Tyrion is correct your Grace," Varys agreed, furthering Tyrion's argument, "but that is not the matter at hand. We already have riots in the streets. The people are scared and they will require reassurance."

"We're all scared Spider." Robert growled, but nodded in agreement. "I take it a raven's been sent already?"

"Of course your Grace." Jon stated before Tywin could. "And as I've said before, we need to handle them with caution. They might be strangers but they haven't given us any true cause for co-"

"Haven't they?" Tywin interrupted, his face as hard as stone even as a twinkle could be seen in his eyes. "I have a hundred men and my own account that says otherwise. And as my daughter has already stated, they possess power unlike any we've ever seen before. They also have dragons, or at least one that we know of for sure. Where there's one, there will likely be more."

"And you want to antagonize them?" Stannis asked, "They haven't done anything without provocation."

"Never thought I'd see you so quick to defend them brother." Renly chuckled as he reached out to pour himself a glass of summer wine. "But I have to agree, they might be strange folk but they haven't done anything to warrant this much attention."

"Except for the fact that the Hand allowed his ward to be taken out of the city right from under our very noses." Tywin countered, and let his lips twitch ever so slightly when Jon looked away. "Taken by the Martells I might add, an ally to House Dovahkiin."

"Yet another reason not to push them into hostilities." Stannis replied. Unlike Tywin, he was not in a hurry to plunge the country into another war. "I agree that they need to come here to the capital to explain what's occurred, but I will not be a part of this council if that means you can't see reason." This he directed at Robert himself, but his words were meant for the whole chamber. "As for Jon Arryn's actions, I believe he did the right thing in getting Lucia away from you, Lord Tywin."

"Tell that to the man that was murdered and hung out a window." Jaime replied softly, yet loud enough to be heard by everyone. "If he hadn't been intercepted, my father's orders wouldn't have been….delayed for as long as they were. The killer is still at large, unless you have something to add to this Lord Varys."

"Sadly I do not." Varys replied honestly. "It's as if the same….shroud that protects the Rills has followed Lucia of Whiterun. My little birds saw nothing, until after the man was discovered with his throat slit and the symbol of a black hand left upon his body. They have, however, been able to uncover its meaning. The black hand is the herald of a group of powerful, deadly assassins that are collectively called the Dark Brotherhood. Little is known of the group, other than the fact they have killed Emperors, according to the few books I've received from the Rills, smuggled out from under Lady Morgonnis' nose."

"Assassins?" Tywin scoffed, "Then Lady Giselle is not as honorable as we have thought."

"She didn't outright claim to be herself." Tyrion was quick to point out. "Oh her companions were usually quick to point it out certainly, but as for Giselle herself, she never actually said so as much in regards to her nature. She might have the Starks' stubbornness, but she's much more realistic in her dealings, and that makes her more dangerous. I say that's just another reason not to piss her off."

"The Imp has a point, but we're forgetting something of no small importance." Petyr chimed in, his sly little smirk present as always. "She isn't technically a part of the Seven Kingdoms. She made it a point her first visit here that she wouldn't bend the knee to you your Grace, nor would she swear oaths of fealty. She has no legal right to have a House, and no real place in our country. So, with that in mind, we can do as we deem necessary to….deal with her if need be."

"What would you suggest Littlefinger?" Robert asked, not about to agree to anything he had to say, but he was curious what the man had in mind. Robert was leaning towards Tyrion Lannister's point of view. He wasn't as foolish as they believed, he knew taking on House Dovahkiin was likely to turn ugly real quick, especially if they possessed even one dragon as Tywin had insisted since his return to the capital. And not just a dragon, one that spoke like a man. Even he wasn't foolish enough to take on such a beast on a whim.

Petyr shrugged, unaware of where of Robert's thoughts had gone. As for what he had in mind, after taking a look at the books Varys had 'acquired', he was reasonably certain he had a plan he could implement, given the King's permission. "There are a group of… dragon hunters in Tamriel. They were founded with the sole purpose of hunting and killing dragons. If they were to get wind of dragons here in Westeros, and if we were to tell them that they are dangerous… I'm sure they would come to our aid, for the right price of course."

Tywin was intrigued, and he made it known when he looked to Petyr. "What was this group called?"

Varys beat him to the punch however. "The group our Lord Littlefinger has in mind, which were called the Blades, is largely disbanded and lost, I'm afraid. The Thalmor, when they attempted to overthrow the Tamrielic Empire, all but destroyed their order. If they still exist, they will not be easy to find." He knew they did, but he wasn't about to tell the Council that. "The last surviving member was slain here in Westeros." This he directed at Cersei. "If they had had any desire to help us before, I do not believe they would come once they learn the truth of their comrade's death, if they haven't already heard the news. Again, if there are any left at all to care."

"So basically we're on our own because my sweet sister couldn't keep her impulses in check. That's comforting." Tyrion muttered sarcastically. "So if Lady Giselle does decide to unleash her beast on us, we're going to be in for quite the slow roast."

"Patience, my dear Imp," Petyr smirked evilly. "I am sure we can find something."

"No you won't." All eyes fell on Robert as he slammed a fist on the table. "No one is to make a move against House Dovahkiin. I do not want the realm to bleed just cause of your petty feud with her." This was aimed at both Cersei and Tywin equally, who regarded the King with equal measures of scorn and cold indifference hiding a rising tide of rage behind a stony face. "As long as I rule, House Dovahkiin is to remain untouched. They are neither our allies nor our enemies. And until they prove otherwise, I'd rather keep it that way."

"Something we can agree on." Stannis nodded his head, proud of his brother's decision. Renly grinned and leaned back, but he was also rather surprised by Robert's declaration.

Pycelle wasn't so easily mollified, even as Petyr shrugged off Robert's order. "You would make peace with these...fiends your Grace? They do not belong here."

"Neither did we once upon a time Grand Maester, or did you choose to forget that little detail?" Tyrion retorted, having had enough of Pycelle's rumblings against House Dovahkiin. "At least they didn't come to Westeros with war on their mind like our ancestors did when we came to this land."

"I have not forgotten. I am a Grand Maester, I know our history and legends well." Pycelle replied coolly before a coughing fit silenced him. When he recovered, he was a little more slouched over than before. "But they are unnatural beings. You would have us ally ourselves with them?"

"The Children must have thought the same thing about us." Renly said with a shrug.

"And look where that got them." Stannis grumbled in response. "But I agree, again, with Tyrion. The next time you open your mouth Pycelle, I suggest you resist the urge to spout off more diatribe. No one here cares to hear it."

"Agreed. Shut your cunt mouth Pycelle, I've already decided how we're going to handle this." Robert growled in agreement. "It's done and over."

"No, it's just beginning dear husband." Cersei hissed quietly to herself, and shared a look with her father. This was just beginning as far as they were concerned.

End Notes; So, let's see if anyone can guess what's going to happen from here. It's still four years before the beginning of Game of Thrones Season 1, and already I've thrown canon out the window. Anything could happen at this point, and considering I broke the sky, that's going to be literal in this case lol. Seriously though, I hope you guys have enjoyed the ride thus far and I will see you next time. Adios!

And yes, before anyone asks, the chapter name for this one was taken right from the James Bond movie with Daniel Craig lol. It seemed fitting at the time. Anyway, see ya!