A/N: The last two chapters were more of a prologue and now we're getting into the story. This chapter also introduces more of her potential future love interest. Who it is, I won't tell :) Right now I'm on spring break and so these updates will be quick now but no promises later.

Solene followed Camilla out of the Riverwood Trader and followed her down the path to the bridge. Camilla stopped at the bridge and pointed up to the peak across the river. Black arches spanned the top and Solene shivered as she looked up at it remembering Ralof retell the stories and his own nightmares concerning the place. "That's where they took it. Thank you again for offering to do what Lucan would not. I'll leave you now before Lucan comes out looking for me. Good luck." Camilla walked back towards her brother's shop. Solene watched her go. As she passed a bosmer carrying wood, the elf watched her pass and when she returned inside, he dropped the pile of firewood he was carrying and ran over to her.

"Did I see you talking to Camilla just now?"

"Yes, she asked me to do a favor for her," replied Solene eyeing the elf. He was wearing a green tunic and had light hair spattered across his tan head. His large eyes were alight with excitement.

"Really? A favor? What did she ask?"

"Why?" she asked, getting cautious now.

The elf started wringing his hands as he thought of what to say. "Well, I was hoping if I could join you in doing this favor I could get her to notice me over that oaf, Sven."

"So you're Faendal." Solene smirked at the elf, inspecting him more closely. She'd heard about him from the locals. Camilla, Sven and Faendal were something like town celebrities as they were all deeply entrenched in a scandalous love triangle. He had a bow and quiver strapped to his back and he seemed quite lithe and agile. Solene was a good hunter and could beat the life out of a practice dummy at home, but she still only had one real kill under her belt. The wolves or bandits on the way to Riverwood didn't really count either because Ralof had charged in while she stayed behind with the bow and picked them off. She could use some help in a place like Bleak Falls Barrow. Even the name of it brought a shudder of fear. If the stories were true – and after all that had happened in the last couple of days she was ready to believe anything – there were undead stalking those halls and gods know what else. Not to mention the bandits she was sent after. "Sure, I could use a guide to help me out. I'm not exactly from around here."

"Where are you headed?"

"Bleak Falls Barrow," she offered, watching him closely. He seemed deep in thought but not overly perturbed.

"Hmm. That's an odd place for a favor."

"Some bandits broke in a stole something from Lucan. Camilla wants me to get it back. The thieves are hiding out up there."

"I see. Then let me join you, but please promise me you'll put in a good word to Camilla when we return."

Solene couldn't suppress a giggle. "Sure. Sure, let's go."

They walked up the path, Faendal leading the way. He stopped suddenly and crouched low. Solene followed suit, looking around frantically. Faendal pointed to the brush off the path a ways where something was rustling through the pine needles. Solene took her bow in hand and readied an arrow, waiting for it to emerge. A wolf stalked through the needles and sniffed the air. It caught sight of the two and hunched down, growling and barring its fangs. Before it could leap, Solene loosed an arrow that struck the wolf in its hind leg. The wolf faltered and whimpered but continued forward before another arrow struck it in the chest and it stumbled down, dead.

Faendal settled his bow onto his back, retrieved his arrow from the beast's chest and turned to Solene. "Not bad, but still some work to do." Faendal approached Solene and stood behind her grasping her arms and fixing her stance.

"H-hey! What are you doing?"

"Helping you survive. If you're going to use the bow as the weapon of choice, you better use it correctly." He moved her elbow up and pulled her shoulders back. "Keep a straight back. This is hunting and survival, not a game."

"I know!" she cried, indignant. "I've hunted before!"

"How many have you lost or had to chase down?"

"What?"

"How many prey have you had to chase down because you didn't kill it in one shot?"

"Its happened a few times… but-"

"No buts. Someday you'll find that instead of you chasing down your weakened prey, it will chase you down. Have you ever come across a cave bear? A sabercat?"

"Well… I did see a cave bear a few days ago," she offered, dejected.

"Oh?" He sounded hopeful. "How did that go?"

Solene looked down at the ground. "We snuck passed it."

Faendal laughed. "Well at least you got lesson two down."

"Lesson two?"

"Always be light of foot so that you see the enemy before they know you're coming. Usually I charge for lessons, but you just got two for free."

"Well I am helping you."

"Or maybe I am helping you," he countered with a smirk.

"Thanks, Faendal."

"No problem. Let's get going."

The pair made their way up the slope, coming across some bandits. Solene was ready this time and snuck forward with little prompting from Faendal. They approached a dilapidated tower slowly, trying to get as close as they could. An altmer woman in studded armor and red war paint across her face was resting against a tree while a redguard man in iron armor approached her from the bridge. "When are they come back? It's been days now. I'm tired of guard duty while they camp out up there away from the cold."

"Are you serious? Have you heard anything about that place? They say the dead walk free in there. I'm much happier out here in the cold."

"Well I'm freezing. Maybe you could keep me warm?"

"Don't get too comfortable around me, dog. I'd sooner stick my blade in your throat and bathe in your blood to keep warm than let you touch me," she growled.

"I love it when they threaten me."

Faendal pointed to the woman in the studded armor and Solene nodded, pulling out her bow. Faendal followed suit and aimed at the man in armor. Solene and Faendal shot at the same time. Solene's arrow struck the woman in the chest who fell down sputtering a few moments before she quieted. Faendal's shot struck the man in the throat. He stumbled back, grasping his neck as foamy blood fell from his lips. His back hit the wall to the tower and he slid to his right and tumbled off the bridge to the river bed below. Faendal straightened and approached the altmer and started rummaging through her things. He turned back to look at Solene, then back to the altmer. He pulled her armor off and walked over to Solene, holding it up to her. "Better than paying Alvor for it. Sure it's got a little blood on it, but it'll protect you better than that dress."

Solene looked down at the dress Gerdur had given her and then back at the bloody armor. "I'm tired of wearing the armor of the dead…" she mumbled.

Faendal shook his head but stuffed it in his pack. "Okay, okay. Let's strip them of anything useful to sell so you can buy yourself some decent armor when we return." Solene looked at him gratefully and helped him look around for anything useful before moving on.

It was a long and slow journey through the barrows, but the two had managed through in relative safety. Solene had learned much from Faendal and she was glad that she had brought him along. When they finally found the claw it was in the clutches of a trapped dunmer named Arvel. Faendal was quick to not trust him, but Arvel was right when he reminded them that there was no way to get the claw without cutting him down from the webbing in which he was stuck. Seeing no alternative choice, she cut him down. When he ran, Faendal was not surprised. They were however, shocked by his speed as he sped off down the hall. They gave chase and nearly got caught in the same trap Arvel did as a spiked gate swung across the room at him spearing him to the gate and slamming him into the wall with such force that blood spattered across the walls and onto the two who had leapt out of the way to safety.

Faendal helped her to her feet and chuckled. "Looks like you'll need a new dress along with some armor now."

"Gerdur is going to kill me!"

"Well at least Camilla will be happy," he replied happily as he managed to pull a golden claw from Arvel's bag.

"Thanks, I'm so glad for your concern."

"I'm sure Lucan will pay you enough for a new dress."

"He better…" she grumbled, pulling her sword and dagger from her belt. The commotion had woken several of the sleeping draugr in the hall who were now sitting up from their places of rest. Solene raced towards the nearest draugr who was still rising from his death bed. She spun quickly with her blades, using the force of her spin to stagger the draugr before finishing it with her dagger. She turned as two more focused on her. She took a low stance, waiting for one of them to make a move. She couldn't rush in on two enemies at once. She desperately wished now that she'd listened to her father when he lectured her on the importance of a shield. She always felt that she was quick enough to dodge. She didn't mind getting dirty and rolling around in the dirt. But that was when she practiced with him. He was slow and used heavy weapons. Now she faced down two, one with a great sword and the other with an axe. She knew they were heavy weapons and slow to swing, but she wasn't willing to wager her nimbleness against her life.

The one with the axe moved first, though the second was quick to follow. Solene had to be quick. She rushed passed the draugr with the axe, shoving it to the side and sliced her sword across the middle of the second and spun around plunging her dagger deep into its back. The draugr didn't fall as expected and it turned around, taking her dagger out of reach. It swung its massive sword around at her and she had to duck and roll away. She rolled into the legs of the other draugr knocking it to the ground as Faendal's arrow sped over their heads missing its mark. Faendal cursed and readied another arrow on the weakened draugr who was swinging his great sword down at the tangled mass of girl and undead on the ground. Solene slipped out of the undead's grasp as the great sword came down. It caught her on the calf, ripping through her dress and slicing through her soft skin. She cried out and rolled away, grasping her leg in her arms.

The swing had also taken out the axe arm of the draugr who was reaching for her leg. Faendal's loosed arrow thunked deeply into the standing draugr's chest and as it fell he ran up to the recovering draugr, now without his axe. He approached quickly from behind and pulled his bow over the draugr's head and pulled against its neck. He pulled and grunted from the strain until he heard the bone snap beneath the rotting flesh. Faendal released the draugr and it slumped to the ground. Not taking any chances, Faendal took out his steel dagger and cut through the rotten sinew and flesh and cut off its head.

He tossed the head unceremoniously to the side and slid to Solene's side. "Do you have a potion?" he asked as he tore open the skirt of her dress and continued ripping at the hem. Solene's pale face flushed for a moment as she weakly pushed out her hands to stop Faendal's destruction of her dress. He swatted her hands away with ease, deciding not to chastise her, but instead repeat his inquiry with more force. "Do you have a potion?"

Solene looked up at his face. Her head spun and she felt sick. She had to think hard about her answer. She had raided a storeroom in Helgen before her escape. She remembered grabbing potions from a barrel before leaving. She nodded slowly and reached for her bag. Faendal took her bag and rummaged through it, pulling out a small bottle with a dark red liquid sloshing inside. He pulled out the stopper with a pop and poured some of it over her wound before moving closer to her and wrapped an arm around her back pulling her up straight. He leaned her against his shoulder and used his free hand now to cup her chin, pulling her mouth open. "Swallow all of it," he ordered as he poured the rest of the poultice into her mouth. She sputtered and coughed, but he wouldn't relent. When the bottle was empty, he tossed it aside and laid her back down to rest. He took her torn skirt and wrapped the pieces around her calf tightly. "The potion will slow the bleeding. You should feel a little better in a few minutes." He turned back to Arvel's bag and continued rummaging through his things. "Spiders, traps, and now undead. Should have listened to all those stupid stories about this place."

Solene sat up slowly and clutched at her leg. It burned fiercely but she felt the sickness and spinning abate. She dug into her bag and took out the altmer's studded leather armor and grimaced at the bloody mark she made on the chest. She sighed and undid the lacing at the side of her dress and felt it slacken around her body. It wasn't hard to get off since there wasn't much of it left below the bodice. She quietly slipped it up over her head and started to put the studded leather armor on.

Faendal looked up from a book he was reading. He tan skin flushed red and he turned around quickly. "Good to see you finally gave up on that dress. Well not good to see. I mean… just… you'll be better protected in even that light armor better than that dress," he sputtered.

"I know. I should have listened to you," she said slowly, not caring about modesty anymore, but appreciating his nonetheless.

She got to her feet to finish putting the armor on and gasped as she put her weight on her leg. She staggered back into a pillar and Faendal rushed over to her. "Let me help you," he offered, pulling the armor up around her legs and latching and lacing it up. "You should really drink another potion before we head on further."

"Further? Aren't we done?" she asked taking another potion from him and twisting at the stopper a few times to get it out of the bottle. She sipped on the earthy potion.

"I was reading through the dunmer's journal. He is certain that there is treasure down here and that the claw is the key. What do you say? We already have the claw, we just need to find the lock for this key."

"How is it a key?"

"His journal says that 'when you have the golden claw, the solution is in the palm of your hands.'"

"'Solution in the palm of your hands?' What does that mean?"

"We'll find out when we get to the Hall of Stories," he said moving down further into the hall, careful avoid the pressure plate trap that triggered Arvel's death.

"The what?" she called, stumbling after her. "Hey what's going on?"

Faendal stopped and put a finger to his lips. "Shhh. I'd much rather proceed quietly than wake anymore residents." He waited for her to catch up and offered his arm as support. She took it gratefully and the two proceeded together. He continued at a whisper. "Ancient Nords built these places to house their most honored dead. Their greatest warriors would have a following and at the time of their death, they were buried with their soldiers and all their worldly possessions so that when they reached Sovngarde they would be honored even in death. Some of the legends even say that these great warriors also served the dragons and when they died they were barred from Sovngarde and were forced to wander these halls even in death."

"So now we're going deeper into a tomb of the living dead to find the most powerful of them all and what? Steal from him?"

"Yes. That's exactly what I'm thinking," he replied with a smile that was infectious and a confidence that seeped into her bones.

With the help of multiple potions, Solene was able to support herself again, though not without the burning pain in her leg reminding her of her lack of training. They managed to sneak through the halls of the dead without rousing any awake and past several traps that she and Faendal had to work together to avoid or disarm. They made it to a large room with steps leading up to a bridge above. Faendal pointed at a trap awaiting ahead of them in the form of a fire pot and smiled. "This one we can use to our advantage," he said picking up a piece of rubble and tossing it into a dark puddle at the far end of the room. He readied his bow and waited. When the draugr on the second floor heard the sound they came to investigate. As they stepped into the dark pool, Faendal released his arrow, shot the rope holding the pot and when it fell it exploded in flames and the dark pool caught fire and engulfed the draugr standing in it.

"Oil," breathed Solene, surprised. "Finally some traps that will help us out."

"Hopefully that will be the last one we'll have to use. I'm already going to have nightmares for weeks." They skirted around the flaming floor and up the steps to cross the bridge and into the halls above. They had managed to get through by using silence and cunning as their biggest weapons. They finally pushed through two large iron doors and Solene gasped at the long decorated hall before them. At the end stood a wall with rings and markings on it. They walked slowly through the hall looking at the pictures on the walls. They seemed to depict different tales. "The Hall of Stories," she said slowly, running her hand across the raised edges. "Then that must me the door," she said approaching the wall at the end of the hall and pulling the claw out of her bag. "'When you have the golden claw, the solution is in the palm of your hands,'" she repeated and pressed the claw's long nails into the slits in the door. She pressed and felt it give. She felt a rush of excitement. She tried to turn the claw like she would a key, but it did not budge. She pressed harder into the claw, putting her body weight into it. It ceased to more forward anymore and no longer budged. She took the claw back out of the door and frowned. "I think I did it wrong."

"Let me try," he said taking the claw and pressing it into the door and tried to maneuver it around. Solene walked back down the hall, examining the portaits there. "'The solution is in the palm of your hand…'" she muttered to herself, thinking. She knew it wouldn't be this easy. The ancient Nords were famed for their puzzles as they had discovered earlier with the rigged gate. Luckily they were warned of the trap by the bandit who tripped it, causing poisonous arrows to shoot him down for not setting the picture stones to the correct combination. They had discovered quickly that their absolute attention was required to survive this tomb. "'Palm of your hand…'" She looked at her hand, even checked the pictures in the hall. Then it hit her. She walked up to Faendal, took the claw from his hand and flipped it over in her palm. Engraved on the palm of the claw were three symbols, descending in size. She looked back to the door and it was as if she noticed the rings for the first time. She pressed onto the large stone rings and slid them around to match the symbols on the claw. She pressed the claw back into the slits and pressed, this time the give was even greater and she turned it slowly. There was a clicking sound and the rings began to grate as they spun on their own and the door lowered into the ground. Solene had to quickly jerk the claw back before losing it.

"Brilliant!" lauded Faendal, slapping her on the back. They walked into the cavern together. At the other end of the cavern there were steps leading out and a platform with a stone sarcophagus and behind that, a large wall with a dragon relief and strange markings carved below it. "Wow! Would you look at that!" He whistled. They snuck up past the sarcophagus, not wanting to face the resting warrior within. Faendal crouched in front of the chest and looted through it, whistling and laughing. "Forget Lucan's payment, this is more than enough."

Solene didn't hear his glee however. Her ears began to ring and the air grew heavy like it did back in Helgen. Her vision blurred on everything except the wall before her. It hummed to her, through her, pulled her forward. She reached out a hand and brushed her fingers across the markings. "Fus…" she whispered and shivered when she felt the latent power of the word course through her.

"Huh? What was that Solene?" asked Faendal putting his hand on her shoulder. Solene snapped out of her reverie and looked up at Faendal. "You can't read that can you?"

"Yes. No. I mean, I think so. Sort of. I can't understand it but I know the words."

"Okay," replied Faendal slowly. "Come on, let's return Lucan's treasure." As they stepped down towards the sarcophagus there was a loud crack and the lid flew open. The draugr within rose up, threw aside the stone he had clutched to his chest and roared at them. Solene could swear she could hear words within his roar but she couldn't understand it.

Instead of pulling out his bow, he drew his dagger. "I'll keep him busy. You stay back," he said pulling off his quiver of steel arrows and handing it to her. "Just try not to shoot me." Solene took his quiver and replaced her Iron-tipped arrows. Faendal was quick with his small jabs and slices, but it was having little effect on the dead warrior. Solene nocked an arrow. She remembered what both her father and Faendal taught her. She rolled back her shoulders and stood up straight, raised her elbow, and closed her eyes to take a deep breath. She opened them again and focused on her target and waited. The draugr had kicked Faendal in the chest and he fell to the ground. It stalked up to him ready to swing his frosty battleaxe down on him when Solene let out the breath she had been holding and let the arrow fly. It flew straight through the slit in the draugr's helm and pierced it in the eye. The axe slipped out of its grip and he fell backwards.

Faendal picked himself up and brushed off his green tunic. "Great shot," he praised, out of breath. "Now let's get out of here before anything else jumps out at us." Solene headed for the stairs, but stopped and picked up the stone tablet that the draugr was holding. She tucked it into her bag and followed Faendal up the steps.

It was a slow trip back down the mountain. The cavern had let out near Lake Ilinalta and so they picked down the rocky path slowly, Faendal offering support to Solene. They made their way back east towards Riverwood. When they finally returned, Faendal helped her into Riverwood Trader. Camilla shot up from her chair, knocking it over and rushed to the pair. "Faedal! Solene! What happened?"

"Just a couple draugr," answered Solene with a smile. "Nothing too difficult for this guy though. He saved my life in there."

"Hardly. Your brilliance saved us more than once," replied Faendal, bashful.

"He's lying; being modest. If I hadn't gone in without him I wouldn't have come back and never come back with your treasure." Solene smirked as she saw Camilla's eyes fall on Faendal and glisten with a new appreciation.

"Did you get it? Did you get back my claw?" asked Lucan coming around the counter.

"Brother! This is hardly the time! We need to find a healer."

"No, no. I'll be fine. I'm just going to go back to Gerdur's and rest for a while, and yes Lucan, I found it," she added pulling the claw out from her bag. Lucan clasped it gingerly and placed it back on the counter. He then scooped up the coin pouch sitting nearby and placed it in her hands. "Thanks. I'm going to go and rest now."

"Let me help you," offered Faendal, moving to support her again.

Solene brushed him off and opened the door. She leaned against the doorframe as she made her way out. When the door closed, Solene smiled and stood up from the frame and walked back to Gerdur's with ease, the pain having subsided a while ago.

When she walked back into Gerdur's house, she heard Ralof's voice from around the corner. "That must be her." He rounded the corner and his face lit up. "There she is. The savior of Riverwood has finally come back from helping shopkeepers and damsels alike," he teased. "And I see you've looted some armor. What happened to Gerdur's dress?" he asked as another blonde Nord joined him wearing stormcloak armor.

Solene grabbed the dress from her bag and handed it to Ralof with a guilty look.

"By the Nine! What happened?"

"Tell Gerdur I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to ruin her dress…"

"Forget Gerdur! What happened to you?!" he cried as he shook the dress out revealing a bloody and shredded rag.

"Well Lucan wanted me to get his stolen claw back from Bleak Falls Barrow and—"

"Bleak Falls Barrow?! Why in all Tamriel would you go there? This is why she has to come with me, Ralof," interrupted the stormcloak next to him. Solene turned her full attention to him now. He had bright blue eyes like the skies visible from the Imperial City and short swept back blonde hair. He had a relatively smooth face for a Nord, but his features were strong and chiseled like the rest of his race.

"My apologies, Solene. This is Einar. He is an emissary of the Jarl."

"The Jarl requests your presence at Windhelm. He sends his apologies and his offer of assistance in light of recent events."

Ralof beamed. "See, I told you Ulfric would welcome you to the Stormcloaks with open arms."

Solene was taken aback by this man's sudden appearance and summons. She was just as prisoner from Helgen. Why would Ulfric reach out to her? Did he feel guilty for her parents' death? Ralof has been more than accommodating since their escape. Perhaps his Jarl was of the same mind. Her thoughts were interrupted with the memory of the promise she had made to Gerdur. "But what about Whiterun?" she asked turning to Ralof. "I have to warn them about the dragon and request help for Riverwood."

"Ralof can take care of that simple task, I am sure," answered Einar. Ralof made a face that took Einar's attention. "What? You can't run a simple message to Whiterun?"

"It has been a few days since Helgen. I am sure the word has spread by now and that Whiterun would have heard. I am known as a Stormcloak. Balgruuf would not appreciate my presence in his city."

"Right," nodded Solene. "You said it yourself. It's a simple task. I will go give the message myself and take a carriage to Windhelm."

Einar gazed at Solene for a few moments and then sighed. "Very well. If you will take this detour to Whiterun, then I shall accompany you. I am not as well known as Ralof. I will need to buy some new armor before we go." He gazed at her again. His eyes lingering on her. "We should get you some armor as well. Something that is actually made and fit to you; not some elf's scant armor that has you busting at the seams."

Solene's face brightened and she felt her anger bubble up in her. Did he really just scrutinize her like that? Yes she was a Nord and it was a tight fit did he need to belittle her like that? She suddenly wished that the cheery Ralof could accompany her and not this formal and stiff Einar. This would prove to be a long trip.