Shadowmere came to a halt outside of the Falkreath Dark Brotherhood sanctuary. Do'hjar dismounted his steed and pulled the unconscious woman that had been slung over the black mere's rear like a dead stag from a hunt over his shoulder. She was light and the Khajiit could carry her with ease. He made his way to the Black Door and Shadowmere made her way back into the dark pool near to the sanctuary and returned to the Void until she was needed again.

"Innocence, brother." Do'hjar didn't even give the door a chance to as its question before he had opened it and slipped inside.

He struggled to carry her down the narrow stairway but was successful and walked out to the large entrance area at the start of the sanctuary. Astrid, the leader of the sanctuary, sat at her stone desk on a similarly bleak and cold chair. She was rifling through pages of contracts and writing on them with a quill, most likely dishing them out to the various sanctuary members. She looked up as Do'hjar delicately placed Lyana in one of the wooden chairs closer to the door.

"Who, exactly, is the person you brought into our sanctuary without permission?"

"Lyana. Seventeen. Virgin. Poor father."

"How does any of that help me?"

"Do'hjar never said it would, but this is what I know about her."

Astrid got up from her chair and walked over to where the Khajiit stood.

"You know so little and yet you bring her to our sanctuary?"

"Do'hjar has good cause. She stole the contract from this one, and a soul from the Dread Father. She must repay it."

"You let a little girl steal your kill? Have you lost your touch, brother?"

"Never. I was going to give him a slow death, a rapist deserves such suffering. Do'hjar thought this sister would understand that."

Astrid's face became cold and hard. "I told you never to mention that."

"Not speaking of it will not undo what happened to this sister. Regardless, this girl was almost raped. The man that almost raped her now has nothing solid remaining of his head, she is not afraid to kill in defence, perhaps she will kill for the Dread Father."

"So you want me to induct her into our dysfunctional little family?"

"Yes. This one kills for us or we kill her. Both ways the Dread Father receives a soul, and we cannot afford to turn down potential recruits with our Brotherhood's current situation."

"Very well, I will test her. Have Nazir pick out the most 'innocent' of our contracts for me… I know a way to test her."

Do'hjar smiled knowingly. He turned left the leader of his sanctuary alone with the unconscious girl.

The Whiterun City gates were forced open with a creak. The two guards on either side looked round to see who was coming into the city late in the evening. The guards recognised the bone-armoured man and bowed their heads. "My Thane." Their voices were muffled from behind their helmets but still distinguishable.

The Thane of Whiterun and Harbringer of the Companions nodded his head respectfully and walked through the gates and straight to the door of Breezehome. He would visit his Shield-Siblings in Jorrvaskr tomorrow, he decided, but after battling through an entire army of Alduin's Draugr before battling the World-Eater himself, all he wanted for now was a rest. He was still wearing his thickly plated Dragonbone Armour, now chipped from combat. He had worn the heavy armour all the way from High Hrothgar to Whiterun. The Greybeards may have attended to his wounds but he didn't get much rest on one of the cold stone beds of their mountain monastery.

He opened the door to his home and walked inside, deeply inhaling the scent of roasting meat. As he locked the door again behind him and heard the voice of his Housecarl greet him he knew he was truly home.

"Greetings, my Thane."

"Greetings, my Housecarl." He mocked her formal tone. "You can call me by my name, Lydia."

"Yes, my Tha-" His ice-blue eyes cut her off with a humoured look. "Skalrn." She finished.

"Better. Now, what are you cooking."

"Venison. Would you care to join me, Skalrn."

"I appreciate your offer, but you have only prepared enough meat for yourself."

"Forgive me, my thane, but I did not know that you would return this evening."

"There is nothing to forgive, I was merely stating a fact. I'm not hungry anyway. Wake me if I am still asleep by mid-day."

"Of course, Skalrn."

The Dragonborn made his way up the stairs and walked into his bedroom. He pulled his helm off let lose his shaggy mane of hair. Until they reached below his shoulders it was impossible to tell where the beard ended and the hair began. They were both decorated with Nordic plaits and were fiery-red, a stark contrast to his ice-blue eyes. He placed his helmet down on the bedside table and collapsed onto his bed. He shut he eyes and slowly drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

A great yellow eye stared at Skalrn. The eye was surrounded by slimy green tentacles that seemed to taste the air around them. The eye blinked slowly and faded. Skalrn became aware he now stood in a river up to his ankles. He looked down and saw that the water was in fact blood. He heard the sloshing of someone wading toward through the blood towards him and turned. The man was taller and broader than Skalrn yet he had the tan and black hair of an Imperial. He wore no helm but from the neck down he wore ornate ebony, gold and silver armour that was more magnificent to look on than any other armour the Dragonborn had ever seen. It seemed fit for an Emperor. His chest plate was emblazoned with the golden Dragon of the Empire and his gold silk cape bore the same symbol in black.

Much of the man's face was obscured by a neatly pointed black beard. One feature that was clearly visible, however, were his dark blue eyes that stared at Skalrn with a look of fury. He drew a sword from his belt and advanced upon the Nord. Skalrn reached for his blade and raised it just in time. Steel and Dragonbone met with a loud clang. Skalrn was staggered back by his opponent's strength but regained his balance and secured his grip in both hands. The stranger opened his mouth, "My Thane?" his voice was deep and rumbling, "My Thane?" his voice grew disturbingly feminine as he repeated the title...

"My Thane?"

Lydia's voice snapped Skalrn back into conscience. As he looked down he realised that he was now sat up on his fur bed with his Dragonbone-bladed longsword, Dovahkriid (Dragonslayer), gripped in both hands in a defensive stance. He re-sheathed his sword and climbed off the bed. "Apologies, Lydia."

"Another nightmare, my Thane?" The Housecarl wore a simple dress in stead of her usual Nordic steel armour.

"No. I have been free of those since I cured my Lycanthropy."

"What did you dream of, my Thane?"

"I was fighting someone. Someone strong. But that's all I remember. And enough with the bloody 'Thane' for Nine's sake."

"Yes, Skalrn. I awoke you at mid-day as you asked, and have prepared you a meal downstairs."

"Your too kind, Lydia, and I appreciate everything you do for me, but you're a Housecarl, not a servant."

"My Th- Skalrn, you have saved my life more times than I can count-"

"You would never have been in danger if I hadn't led you in to it." He cut across.

"No, I would have been twiddling my thumbs at Dragonsreach... You took me on adventures like the ones I dreamed of going on when I was a little girl, hearing the songs of the heroes of old. You have given me memories I will carry to the grave and stories to tell my grandchildren one day if Gods be good. Thank you, my Thane."

He smiled at her warmly but before he could return the compliment she added, "And besides, you're a terrible cook." before turning and leaving back towards her own bedroom to get changed into her armour.

He picked up his helmet and made his way down the stairs. Lydia had used some of the left-over venison from last night and placed slices of it of buttered bread, still warm from Carlotta's oven. He ate the bread and meat gratefully and left out the door: he would pay a visit to his Shield-Siblings. Perhaps he should buy something from Fralia Grey-Mane to thank Lydia on his way back.

Most people seemed surprised to see him as he shut the door behind him. He had left Whiterun riding a Dragon with the intent of pursuing the World-Eater into Sovngarde. It wasn't surprising most people didn't expect to see him four days later with a few scratches on his armour and one badly damaged pauldron from Alduin's bite, but apparently unharmed. If they had seen the condition he was in after his battle they would have a different idea.

"You there! Are you the one they call Dragonborn?" Two masked and robed men approached Skalrn.

"Yes, I am Dragonborn."

"Your lies fall on deaf ears, deceiver! The true Dragonborn comes... you are but his shadow. When Lord Miraak appears all shall bear witness. None shall stand to oppose him!"

The masked man pulled out his dagger and stabbed for Skalrn. He didn't have enough time to draw his sword so he caught his attacker's wrist with his left hand and knocked him to the ground with a mighty right-hook. The other masked man had drew a longsword whilst his companion hit the floor and now attempted a diagonal chop. Skalrn raised the thick plate of his gauntlet that covered his forearm in defence. The moonstone blade was deflected of the Dragonbone without leaving a scratch. The swordsman pressed the attack with a powerful chop straight down. Skalrn sidestepped the blow, unhindered by his heavy armour, and hooked one of his powerful arms around his enemy's throat. With one sharp twist he snapped his neck and killed him. The other man got up, still slightly dazed, and began firing arcs of lightning at Skalrn, who had now drawn his sword. The masked man was attempting to put distance between himself and the Nord. This was of no concern to the Dragonborn, however.

"WULD NAH KEST"

The Whirlwind Sprint shout carried him forward with great speed. He channelled the momentum of the shout into a Thu'um infused shoulder barge. He sent the masked attacker to the ground with a hard thud and before he could rise he rammed the point of his blade through his chest.

He released his grip on the sword and allowed it to stay stabbed through the man as he searched through his pockets to try and find something to identify him by. His hand enclosed around a roughly folded note in one of the pockets of his robe:

Board the vessel Northern Maiden docked at Raven

Rock. Take it to Windhelm, then begin your search.

Kill the false Dragonborn known as Skalrn before

he reaches Solstheim. Return with word of your

success and Miraak will be most pleased.

Skalrn read the note carefully. They referred to him as the 'false Dragonborn'. The fact that he had outshouted Alduin himself and so far consumed over 200 Dragon souls would make him doubt he was 'fake'. Regardless, Miraak had tried to have him killed. He pulled his sword from the dead man's chest and walked back into Breezehome where Lydia was sharpening her own sword with a whetstone.

"You're back early."

Skalrn sat down beside his loyal Housecarl. His tone serious and grim he spoke. "I was attacked on my way to Jorrvaskr. I need you to look after Breezehome on your own again for a while. I have to ride to Windhelm."

"Let me go with you." She said suddenly.

"I can't," He rose from his chair and pulled a long, grey travelling cape of one of the hooks near the door, "it's to dangerous. There is something at work here beyond Dragons or Men."

"Goodbye then, my Thane." She said. She was hurt, he knew, but he rather have her hurt than dead.

He turned to her, "Goodbye, my Housecarl."