Welcome back, sorry about the wait this time, took awhile for those reviews to come in, gotta make sure people are actually reading this or I won't bother.

Shout outs:

anonymous: Thank you! I'm so glad you think so! I actually blushed a little when I first read your review!

jeandark: Yeah I went through an ordeal a couple of years ago and that was the only lesson I really learnt, that ignorance is a blessing. I truly wish that I am ignorant towards the movie 'the human centipede' because whenever it pops into my head I feel quesy.

lovelylovelovey: You gave me a cliffhanger! What was your dream? I'm so curious now!

this chapter named after Azura, the daedric lord of dusk and dawn and the magic of the twilight in between.

Please enjoy and do not forget to review.

Chapter 3 Azura

Nobody was exaggerating when stating the road to High Hrothgar was quite a climb. The seven thousand steps were not neatly stacked like a staircase and the wolves that infested the area were far from domesticated.

Moreover, it was cold too.

Nasilda blamed her Imperial skin from being so thin, the Nords never seemed cold, their armour lacked sleeves and they charged into battle with flushed faces. Nasilda growled in protest when a brush of icy flakes sprayed her in the wind.

"It shouldn't be far now..." Lydia commented; her voice rose so her Thane could hear her through the howling.

Why did the gods play this cruel joke on her? They threw her into this icy plane and made her trudge through it with no clue on whether it was the right direction.

However, the worse part:

How could she have ever married such an obnoxious man such as Vilkas? It seemed like a past life, in a way it was. But the Gods didn't bless her with a new life, instead they wiped her mind, but everyone seemed to remember who she was, apart from her.

In addition, how could she be dragonborn? She could not even hold a sword properly, she has to cart daggers around strapped to her legs, and Kynareth granted men to speak as the dragons do but it was Akatosh who created the dragonborn... to be mortal with the soul of a dragon... she didn't even know what that could mean.

She did not know if it was true, she was only making this trek because her Jarl told her to, and because she wanted to know what it meant.

She may be angry with the gods for stealing away her last life but if they had something planned; it would be foolish to deny them.

"I think I can see it, it's hard to tell with all this snow..." Nasilda smiled at her housecarl, seeing the structure through the white winds brought her mind to a quick pace. What would she learn? Is she really the dragonborn? What does being dragonborn even mean?

Biting her lip till it bled they made their way to its stony doors.

"We should probably head on in..." Lydia smiled, standing aside so her Thane could go in first.

Nasilda nodded but stood still, taking a quick breath and holding it, "Here we go..." She sighed before opening the large doors and relaxing at the sudden change in temperature.

She spotted an old man wearing long grey robes, his beard was white as the snow that was currently tangles in Nasilda's curls and his eyes lacked the brightness of youth and had darkened to a dull grey in age.

"What brings the two of you to our humble temple?" Quick to the point, she liked that, not batting around the bush.

"I heard your call, 'Dohvahkiin', I'm here to answer it." Nasilda smiled.

"Ah... first we will see if you truly are 'Dragonborn' before we begin any formalities. Shout at me, if you can." He smiled and folded his hands.

Lydia glanced nervously at her companion, unsure what to expect, Nasilda braced herself. She didn't understand what it meant truly to shout, our how to do it, but the old man seemed patient enough.

"Calm yourself, let your mind ease" He soothed, "Have you shouted before?"

"No..."

"Then how would you know that you are truly a dragonborn?"

Nasilda sighed, "I don't really know, but when I defeated the dragon attacking Whiterun... I heard its voice, it washed through my mind and as clear as I hear yours now. When it died, it bled light, its skin burned and I saw images flashing past my eyes, the soldiers said I glowed, that I took its very soul that I must be dragonborn."

He smiled. "Have you ever read a word of power?"

She thought for a moment, remembering the word that spoke to her, the power it wielded that rendered her unconscious. "Yes, it left me unconscious for a few days."

"They tend to have that affect the first time, you will find words much easier now you have learnt your first, and do you remember what the word was?"

She smiled, "Yes, Fus..."

"Fus means Force; it is part of a shout called 'Unrelenting Force' which will blow an amount of force in a single direction. I want you to focus your mind, remember every detail of the word, how you felt when you read it, what you were thinking at the time, any sounds you may have heard. When your mind has processed it all once more, open your lips and cry out Fus towards me."

She closed her eyes and began to focus, she remembered running her hands across the stone, feeling the gritty substance that resided on it, hearing the hum of the whispers as the word called her. Looking back she felt familiar with the voices, she felt attached to the sounds of their tongues.

She felt the same weakness flooding through her, making her knees wobble and her brow sweat, she remembered running her hands over the engraved letters, feeling the jutting strokes and the harsh corners.

Then she remembered the lock that clicked inside her, the warm feeling as she felt filled, before she knew it the words had escaped her mouth but she was no longer thinking of them, only of Vilkas's tight muscles around her and the sudden safe sensation that flooded through to her very skeleton.

"So it's true" He smiled, when she opened her eyes she saw that he was standing a few feet back from his original stance, her ears rang from the sound of her own voice but her mind was at ease. "You really are dragonborn..."

"I must be..." She stared at the floor, not willing to look at the old man's face any more.

"My name is Arngeir... and you are?"

"Nasilda."

"Nasilda... and Ayleid name. Do you know its meaning?"

She shook her head, wondering why the conversation took its quick turn.

"It means 'fateful'"

His face was no longer smiling, his eyes burned into hers, but she could not focus.

He led her towards a circle and other greybeards joined them, Arngeir introduced them to another of the greybeards named Einarth.

"Einarth has mastery of the second word of unrelenting force 'Ro'. To learn a shout, you must first have seen it demonstrated, or read the word. Then you must understand the shout, for us, this may take many years but for you, moments, when you kill a dragon, you take its understanding deep into your soul. You won't need to kill a dragon to understand this shout, however, we will grant you use of our knowledge."

She nodded, only just understanding his basic outline.

Einarth turned to the circle and opened his mouth. His Thu'um was but a whisper, only just intelligible, but it brushed across the circle leaving an imprint in the stone.

The same hum of voices heard in her ears as the ones in the cave; they sang in her mind and brought tears to her eyes for but a moment. Then another click as a lock opened inside of her.

"Master Einarth will now grant you his understanding of Ro." Arngeir smiled, Einarth then turned to her and she felt a strange tingle deep inside of her, his eyes were on fire and had she looked in the mirror she would have seen that hers were too.

'FUS RO!' Her mouth opened on its own, blasting through Einarth, it was much more powerful than the shout that hit Arngeir but this time I did not need to focus. It just came naturally.

"Well that's it." Arngeir smiled his eyes slightly wider. "You really are Dragonborn. I must admit at first I was sceptical, we all were, but now to see it for myself, how quickly you learn a shout. It's simply marvellous."

However, that was not enough for them, after teaching her, a brand new shout 'Whirlwind Sprint'; they pushed her to finding the horn of Jurgen Windcaller.

"Perhaps we should head home for awhile; I'm not looking forward to go diving headfirst into some long dead tomb looking for some artefact for an old man again." Nasilda told her friend, she remembered the embarrassment being rescued by Vilkas and did not want to feel the same rush of unwelcome heat. Although this fear was probably, delusional considering it would be unlikely that Vilkas would be there to rescue her this time. Last time he was looking for her or at least, he was looking for his wife.

She shuddered at the thought; it was hard to imagine standing next to Vilkas at the temple of Mara exchanging their vows, even harder to imagine Vilkas actually having any affection to begin with.

"So... to Whiterun then?" Lydia asked her eyebrows rose.

"I suppose," Nasilda, sighed, hoping not to bump into her 'ex husband', she would not though if she stayed away from Jorrvaskr. She knew she needed to find somewhere new to live, sleeping in the same town as Whiterun had its effects on her.

Once they reached the Ivarstead they agreed on staying in Vilemyr inn. The music was rich as the bard sang 'Age of Oppression' at the top of her lungs, the mead was cool and delicious and there were handsome strangers that Lydia feasted her eyes.

"Hello sugar, you're a far way off home aint'cha?" A large hairy man sat next to Nasilda, "I can smell the city on you."

"Best get your paws off her, she's my thane." Lydia growled.

The man looked at Lydia up and down, "Aren't you a feisty one, I'm not afraid of your fire, love, I only ask to enjoy your warmth."

He went to pull Lydia into his embrace but in a flash of events that were too fast for Nasilda's tired brain, he was on the floor and Lydia stood over him, her foot on his battered chest. "I don't take kindly to those words." She then smiled, "And you're far from my type."

With that being the only interesting part of the evening, Nasilda paid the innkeeper and retired to her quarters, Lydia insisted in sharing the room, and being 'always prepared' she had a warm fur sleeping bag to snuggle in.

"I'm no man, Lydia, feel free to share the bed." Nasilda laughed as Lydia swatted away the mice that wanted to share her warmth. They were as unwelcome as the raunchy drunk that Lydia taught a lesson to.

She looked up at her thane, unsure whether to pass or to roll up her sleeping bag and climb into the warm sheets.

"It's cold tonight." Nasilda stated, yawning into the pillow.

Lydia watched Nasilda, when the girl shivered; Lydia decided then to climb into the bed.

But they only slept, for Nasilda had the innocence of a child and a mind just as fresh, although Lydia watched her lips move with fascination and felt the warmth of another woman over all intriguing, Lydia had never felt desire for one of her own gender, she was merely curious.

"Bless you Azura, your new dawn sheds light on new and exciting things and your twilight is surely magic." Lydia whispered to the night, wondering if the daedric lord was listening.

Well there's that chapter all done and finished, I hope you enjoyed it even though, once again, it's rushed.

Please leave a review, the sooner I see 3 reviews the sooner the next chapter will be uploaded. Have a great day!