Dovahkiin

Chapter One

The air was frigid, laced with ice that clung to the dragon's scales where it was perched high above the realm, blue eyes staring into the storm that broiled above Skyrim, lightning arcing outwards as sheets of rain fell to the province below. It covered the entirety of the sky, reaching as far across the land as the northern Ghost Sea to the southern Jerall Mountains between Skyrim and Cyrodill. Nothing was free of the mighty tempest.

The dragon gave a slow hiss, spreading rose and crimson wings as it forwent the inner voice urging it not to fly. It whispered that the storm was far too powerful, that it'd be tossed about like a leaf doomed to fall if it were to dare. However, no mighty dragon would hear such cowardice.

With a great, powerful heave it took flight, flapping with might and pride as it soared right towards the storm, maw open in defiance as it drew nearer. Gusts of wind ripped at the dragon, trying to send it falling to the world below, freezing rain crashing against crimson scales with tremendous force. It wavered, struggling for a few moments, but refused to give in, as proud as any dragon. The creature was massive, rival only to Alduin perhaps in its size, and determined to prove its worth for such a stature.

The dragon gave a roar, fire in its maw as it banked around the largest of the clouds, rising higher into the air on the strong gusts of wind. The storm beckoned, and it met its challenge with gusto.

A bolt of lightning whisked past the dragon, inches from striking and making energy roll across crimson scales. Another arc of lightning came towards it, as if aimed by some force, and the dragon rolled tightly away, narrowly avoiding being struck down like an eagle by an arrow. The clouds bent, wrapping around the flying serpent as if to smother it, the roar of the storm deafening. Flames burned from the dragon's mouth, blasting the dark storm clouds away, keeping them at bay just a moment longer. Its tail lashed outwards, clearing a breath of cloud only for it to immediately reform.

It was going to be swallowed whole by the darkness, rain and wind battering its form from all around, lightning whisking past and turning its blood to fire. Up there in the clouds it was blind, nothing but black illuminated by the flashes of lightning. The beast grew deaf, unable to hear its own breathing in the torrent. A gust of wind smashed into its back, offsetting it and causing it to lose control for a moment. It growled in anger and snapped at the clouds, only for the substance to shove itself down the dragon's gullet, trying to suffocate it. Panicking, the dragon breathed fire, expelling the invasive storm and gasping for air.

The creature's heart raced, fear gripping it as it realized the folly of its choice.

Tucking its wings close, the beast dove towards Skyrim where it had become flooded, the rivers overflowing from the storm. Rain pelted its hide, fat angry drops like stones with each drop that hit. The lightning gave chase, jolting nearby, barely missing each time. Panic made its heart beat louder than the thunder in its ears, echoing like a promise should it try again to best the sky. As the dragon settled on the ground, staring up in terror at the stormcloud, it gaped as the tempest twisted.

A face appeared amongst the clouds, dark and sinister with eyes of pure lightning, an image that was like a distant memory. Menacing curved horns pointed down at the dragon, gnashing fangs made of ice and Oblivion, looming like the monster it was. Yet as the creature stared, wings tucked against its shivering body, flooded rivers rising higher and higher to consume the dragon, it knew the face, the name rising up as thunder turned into a cackle of dark laughter.

Molag Bal.

With a roar of thunder he swooped down upon the dragon, fangs and lightning dashing towards the helpless creature, clouds convulsing into a tornado as the Daedric prince attacked. The dragon took off, using every bit of strength it possessed to dodge the abomination. The rivers moved after it, turning into a viscous substance, sucking at limbs in an attempt to bring it down into the cold watery depths. The terrible vortex behind the dragon pulled, drawing the creature back and making its struggle for freedom all the harder.

Molag Bal screeched in fury, pursuing with violence and hate. The world around the dragon steadily was reduced to flashes of lightning reflected in the black water, wings flapping as swiftly as they could to carry it away from the monster behind it, feet pushing off anything that got in its way, twisting and twirling with desperation. It could just faintly make out the snowy mountain top it'd been perched upon, the Throat of the World, and lifted itself towards the high peak hoping for some refuge.

As its wings picked it higher into the air, straining against the winds and rain, the roar of Molag shuddered the world around it. It was nearly there, moments from what it knew was safety, able to see the word wall and a light that radiated from the stone. Hope filled the dragon, wings aching from the effort, lungs burning with exertion.

Lightning struck the dragon, cracking through its body with a boom of thunder. Agony escaped its maw, raw energy shooting through the dragon like an arrow. It arched, lingering in the air for a few painful moments as it stared up at the mountain, before plummeting down to the waters below. Molag Bal cackled in triumph, sweeping forward among the clouds to conceal the Throat from the dragon, fangs pulled in a twisted smile with tornado arms reaching for the dragon. It gave one last, agonizing gasp, before the flooded rivers devoured it, pulling it to a cold watery grave.


Yosa'Min awoke with a sharp gasp, heart racing and body chilled to the core. She stared at the wall, focused intently on one point as the image filled her vision, sharp and painful. Every inch of her skin crawled, the sensation of wings a fading memory yet she could feel them, pressed against her scales and tucked under a muscular body. Phantom fangs pierced her neck, burning and dominating, a cry escaping her as she held her pillow, unable to move, tears filling her eyes.

You are mine! A painfully familiar voice screamed, claws raking down her brain. She screamed, clutching her skull, fighting against the otherworldly presence trying to claim her. Water filled her lungs, gurgling in her throat and drowning her where she lay as fire burned her skull. All she saw was Molag Bal, his face made of clouds with eyes of lightning.

"Yosa!" Mjoll's voice cut through the chaos, dispelling the wings and fangs as the golden haired nord filled her vision, gripping her wrists and protectively pinning her to the bed. "What's going on? Are you okay?" Her accented voice quivered with worry, guilt piercing the redguard's heart at the panic she'd sent her love into.

She gasped, struggling to find her voice and staring up at the painted face of her nordic love. "No."

Mjoll frowned heavily, pulling the redguard up to a sitting position and staring deeply at the Dragonborn's scarred face, trying to discern the cause of Yosa'Min's nightmares. "What's going on? This is the third time this week you've awoken like this."

"I… I don't know. I-" The words died in her throat, Yosa'Min averting her gaze and clenching her fists.

"Please Yosa, tell me what's happening. I can't help if I don't know," desperately urged the former adventurer, endless thoughts of what could be wrong filling her mind.

Tucking her chin against her chest, Yosa'Min kept her gaze off Mjoll. "I keep seeing this dragon and then a face… Molag Bal."

Mjoll stiffened, lips drawn into a thin line. "Are you sure?"

Whimpering once more, Yosa'Min gave a nod. "Yes. I don't know how I know but it's him, every time… and he's started to win."

It grew silent between them, the pair dwelling on what it might mean. Yosa'Min's mind a mess of foggy memories, and midnight panic while Mjoll tried to figure out how to comfort her love. "Come here," Mjoll said softly, blue eyes blinking up at her as the nord gave a soft smile, holding her arms out. Instantly Yosa'Min moved, nuzzling against the larger woman as Mjoll wrapped her muscular arms around her, kissing the top of short black hair as Yosa'Min nestled against her. "I'm sorry this keeps happening," she whispered, rubbing circles in the archer's back, trying her best to soothe her. The bite mark scar burned on her neck, the entire left side in flames as Yosa'Min pictured that monstrous face, twisted horns and exposed teeth so terrifying it froze her in place even there in Mjoll's arms. "Do you think… Do you think it might be related to having been a vampire?"

Yosa'Min neglected to answer for some time, instead pressing her face against Mjoll's collarbone, one hand gripping the rough material of her love's sleep shirt. "It has to be," she finally whispered, voice frail. "What else could it be?"

Mjoll gave a faint sigh. "Well maybe we should head up to the College then? I'm sure Siulon could make sense of it, being the expert that she is. Would you like to go in the morning? I'm sure Iona would love to see you in person instead of just reading a letter."

"It would be nice to see her," agreed Yosa'Min, still hiding against Mjoll. "Speaking with Siulon does sound smart too."

"Then how about we go? Do you think you could manage that? I know that's all the way across Skyrim and you haven't slept well but…" Mjoll trailed off. She couldn't think of anything else to do, everything involving vampires still confusing even after what they'd learned and been through.

It'd been about two months since Yosa'Min had been cured, spring at last reaching the northern province and melting the snow that'd blanketed the ground. In that time Iona had departed for the College of Winterhold, studying under Siulon and the other masters as she fully embraced the magical abilities she'd shunned for years. It had been hard to see her go, Yosa'Min struggling to accept her feelings on the matter but understanding that Iona couldn't bear to be around the home she'd lived in with her lost love any longer. She couldn't force her to stay where she could not, especially after releasing the nord from her housecarl oath, and so had put on a bravest face she could manage when Iona finally moved on.

Lydia's absence was still quite a weight upon the redguard, Mjoll finding her reading old books with tears in her eyes that only could have belonged to the deceased housecarl. Mjoll doubted there'd ever be a day she wasn't there, lingering in the woman's mind, but she'd started to get better. Less often would she seem lost in memory and grief, moving with purpose as she focused on finding her brother, figuring out a way to save him from the Oblivion his soul had found itself within.

As of late however, that purpose was waning, Yosa'Min finding it hard to wake up in the mornings, struggling with even the simplest of tasks. At first Mjoll had suspected she was slipping back into a depression, the rejuvenation of her resurrection wearing off as more reminders of the parts of her life that felt broken were given to her. The emptiness of her home, no housecarl to keep her company in the waning hours of the day, was quick to settle like a ghost. No Lydia there, with a smile and cup of tea or Iona urging her to go out and experience the world. She was alone there, with only letters to keep her company for those few days until Mjoll had made a decision that'd changed things for the better.

It hadn't been long after Iona had departed that Mjoll had moved in with the redguard, a terrifying and exciting prospect. Aerin had been quite put out by her departure, but could only agree it was for the best and wish her luck. It was only then that she'd discovered the redguard was having nightmares, some minor and others leaving her crying when she awoke such as this one had. Each time she tried to get her to discuss it however, Yosa'Min would clamp up, afraid of speaking the words as if it would make them true. This was the first time she'd gotten her to discuss any of the nightmare with her.

"We should go," Yosa'Min said, voice soft and pained, "better than doing nothing right?"

Giving an agreeing nod, Mjoll pulled back just enough to look the redguard in the eyes, admiring the beautiful blue hue. She'd never tire of seeing them. "I'm sure she'll know what to do, all of Iona's letters rave about how clever she is."

"Not to mention she's the only reason you all knew how to save me," added Yosa'Min, a hand moving to brush the bite marks. Every so often she could feel the burn of Serana's fangs there, painful and intoxicating. Mjoll gently leaned closer, tenderly kissing the idle hand, Yosa'Min making a soft noise in response.

"Do you think you could fall back asleep?" Inquired Mjoll, admiring the beautiful woman on her lap. "This one seemed quite bad."

Yosa'Min shrugged, uncertain. "Not for a while," she managed, wrapping her arms around Mjoll's neck. "Sorry to wake you."

"It's alright," Mjoll whispered, holding her love tightly, to think she'd nearly lost her before. "I've had my share of midnight awakenings," she added, "after Aerin saved me and I'd nearly lost my life... What you went through, both your turning and revival, I can only imagine how traumatic it was."

Silence fell between them, Yosa'Min resting her head on Mjoll's chest, the nord still rubbing circles in her back. It was peaceful there in her arms, but even still she could feel that darkness lurking, a promise that should she close her eyes it would return and swallow her whole. "What if Siulon doesn't know what to do?" Yosa'Min asked, almost like a child.

"We'll deal with that if that happens," Mjoll said firmly, "but she might know so don't worry about that right now okay?"

Sighing, Yosa'Min gave a small nod. "Right, it's stupid to think of that. She'll know… Siulon knows everything."

"Not everything," Mjoll corrected with a soft laugh, "but close enough."

"How isn't that mer the Arch-Mage already?" Snickered Yosa'Min, trying desperately to distract herself, anything to keep that monster from her mind.

"From Iona's letters, it seems she isn't found to be… pleasant enough."

"That tough huh?"

"She certainly wasn't soft with her words while Iona trained there for that short time, and was quite blunt with her thoughts on our chances," replied Mjoll, "but she knows what she's talking about. Otherwise we can see Falion, if she doesn't know he will."

Yosa'Min gave another nod, the semblance of a plan comforting to the redguard. Her heart had stopped racing, the roar faded from her ears and the burning died down to a merely unpleasant itch. "Okay." She could accept that, hold onto it as some form of hope that someone knew what was wrong and how to fix it. She had to believe someone did, else that familiar pit would swallow her whole.

"You okay?"

"I don't know… But I'm better."

Mjoll looked down at her, tender and concerned. "Anything I can do?"

Yosa'Min pulled a bit on the nord's jerkin, Mjoll allowing her to guide her back onto the bed they shared. The home was dark, only the soft light of the dying fire in the kitchen illuminating it and the small shafts of moonlight that peaked between curtains. Mjoll had made a few decorative changes to Honeyside since her arrival, Yosa'Min willing to do most anything to make the nord comfortable and one such change was the bed. The much softer, and more importantly larger, mattress yielded to them as they lay down, Mjoll hovering over the redguard, uncertain just what she had in mind. "Don't let me go," Yosa'Min requested, "I don't feel him as much with you."

The nord gave a soft nod, laying down besides the redguard who instantly curled against her, one arm laying across the redguard and pulling her even closer. The warmth between them was nearly enough to make her forego a blanket, though the redguard was soon searching for the thick green thing. Once covered up, Mjoll felt Yosa'Min's breathing steady, fingers intertwining with Mjoll's.

It grew silent between them for some time again, Mjoll listening to Yosa'Min's breathing and feeling the warmth shared between them. Yosa'Min gave a small sigh, her eyes lidding with dark thoughts as worries began to fill her mind. Even if Molag Bal's grip, be it true or something lingering from the nightmare, was lessened in Mjoll's arms it didn't stop the fears from rising within her. What could it mean if he still had a hold of her, if she wasn't truly free from his grasp as she'd thought her return of mortality had done? She still felt a connection with Serana, the bond between them weaker than before but when her mind shifted to the vampire it was still there, lingering just like Lydia. Perhaps that meant Molag Bal was still there, worming his way inside of her through that intimate connection. The thought made her chest clench, revulsion at the mere notion enough to make her gasp sharply.

"Do you remember the temple?" Mjoll asked, drawing her from the thoughts that consumed her. She was quite good at that, bringing the small woman back to reality when she drifted elsewhere in her mind. "When you carried me back to town?"

"Yeah…" Yosa'Min whispered, "that was one of the best nights of sleep I'd had in a long while."

"Me too," admitted Mjoll, "why do you think I love cuddling with you?"

"What," Yosa'Min laughed, "it's not just because you think I'm attractive?"

"Well- that is certainly part of it," Mjoll laughed back, Yosa'Min turning around to face her, legs and hands intertwining. "But also because whenever we're together I feel like nothing can hurt me. I'm safe with you, just like how you made me feel that night."

The redguard's face softened, blue eyes lidding with thought. "I do too," she whispered, kissing Mjoll tenderly. The golden haired woman made a soft noise when Yosa'Min pulled back, nuzzling against her chest, arms wrapping around one another until they were fully intertwined. The ache vanished at last, Yosa'Min feeling Mjoll's heartbeat and the nord her's, soothing as she at last pushed those dark thoughts away. There in her love's arms, Yosa'Min felt like nothing could touch her, not even the Daedric prince.

"We'll figure this out," Mjoll vowed softly, "just try and get some rest for now."

"Thanks," Yosa'Min yawned, closing her eyes. "I'll see you in the morning?"

"See you in the morning love," Mjoll replied, kissing the top of Yosa'Min's head as they returned to sleep. They had a long day of travel ahead of them, and many questions in need of answering. If they were lucky, Siulon or Falion would have them, else Mjoll feared what they might do.


AN: While a lot later than I earlier intended to start writing this, truth be told I burned myself out a little on Skyrim after writing Dawn. However, I've finally got the feeling for it back, and to be quite honest I simply missed Yosa'Min. I hope you're ready to read more of her story, as Dovahkiin will be a short bridge between "At Dawn's Light" and "Lost Souls". If you haven't read Dawn, I'd highly advise doing so before continuing on with this venture. Thanks so much for reading, I'd love to hear your thoughts!