Last time, the four took the trip to Whiterun, things happened, and they got drunk. A good night, right?

Well, this ends the Saga. Thanks for reading!

Elder Scrolls belongs to Bethesda, we only own our characters: Shealyne, Arlen, Olana, Thearis, Anya, and Anya's kid.


The slow night passed and Shealyne arose while the room was still dark, seemingly the only one of the group awake. She stood, walked to the small table in the room, and sat in the chair. With magic, she put flame to the candle on the table, it casting its faint light through the room. Hadvar still slumbered with his chest rising and falling gently. How human of him, Shealyne thought.

Still, no matter how much being human, being warm and fleshy and transient appeals to her, she would not give up the existence of a vampire. Shealyne has gained so much knowledge about so many different subjects and schools of magic that one could not possibly learn in a single lifetime. About how to prepare nightshade so as to make it consumable, how to extract the deadly but useful Harrada plant from the planes of Oblivion safely. What spells counter which Daedra attacks effectively. How to finish off a mark cleanly, making it look like an accident. And most importantly, how to keep this one thing, Porphyric Hemophilia, a secret. Its only price is companionship.

Sure, she can think back to the days when she spent time learning with her dear mentor, Vicente, but it was not the same as feeling the warm, loving touch of a man. Or of her smiling, precious children that she now has no doubt they no longer live. With every passing of the seasons, she gets more and more numb. Sun up, sun down...year in, year out. It has become a familiar rhythm.

Shealyne was torn from her thoughts when Hadvar stirred and sat up in the rickety wooden bed. He flattened his messy hair and focused his vision, only slightly surprised to find Shealyne at the table wide awake instead of still sleeping.

"I'm sorry, Hadvar. Did I wake you?" Shealyne asked, pupils reflecting the soft light that illuminated from the candle as she focused her gaze upon the man.

"Hmmm, no, no you didn't. I just...woke up on my own accord. Why are you still up?" Hadvar asked, the man slowly becoming more alert.

"I am not used to sleeping much. Over thinking tends to keep me awake, but I get by." She muttered.

"Thinking of what, if you don't mind me asking?" The man asked, Shealyne propping her head upon her arm, resting on the table.

"Hmmmm, a lot of things. The past, the present, the future. As I said, I over think, and that leads to me, well...not sleeping."

"Do you think of your children?" Hadvar questioned, the woman's eyes widening at that.

"I beg your pardon?" She inquired, wondering if she let it slip that she did indeed have offspring at one point. If not...well then, that would be creepy.

"You mentioned at my Uncle's house that you had children, as well as a husband. Yet in Cyrodiil you were living alone. You know what-I apologize. That matter is none of my concern. Still, I wanted to thank you for standing up to Sigrid for me. She never liked me much." Hadvar seemed down.

"I...you're welcome. I didn't mean to be rude towards your family. For that I apologize." The woman cleared her throat, briefly wondering how many hours of night were left.

"That is alright. I know my aunt can be a bit...difficult to get along with. No matter." Hadvar swung his legs over the side of the bed to get up and glance out the glass window. "It seems it will be morning soon, a few merchants are setting up shop. Might as well just stay awake.." Hadvar turned and put on his outer longsleeved shirt.

Shealyne also got to her feet and stretched. She opened the door and poked her head in the hallway; all was still. "I'm going to see if anyone's downstairs." and left Hadvar alone.

As she suspected, the hearth downstairs was unlit and not a soul could be seen. Let Saadia open the place, she thought. Then she heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. She turned and anticipated Hadvar, but instead it was Arlen.

"Have a good night?" Shealyne scoffed.

"Nah, I got some kinda twitch in my neck-ooh, that. We were so trashed I almost forgot."

"I had that happen before. Remembered nothing." She shrugged. Olana started coming down the stairs.

"Fun, isn't it?" Arlen snorted. He walked behind the main counter, and looked on the shelves. "Damn, nothing. Thought they'd forget to take some bottles in for the night, but they remembered. We've been here too much, Olana."

"What? Did we drink the whole place out of business?" Olana questioned, rubbing her eyes a bit, "Or did you steal one too many?"

"Both apparently." Arlen picked up his shield and sword, and reattached the sword to his armor, and the shield to his back. "Welp, it's been good, Shealyne. We're gonna get moving."

"You're leaving? Where are you two going?" The woman questioned, a brow raised, "That just leaves me with the Nord." She frowned. On second thought...that could be a good thing.

"The road calls us." Olana made sure she had everything, going over her fur armor. Once that was done, she looked at Arlen and nodded, and then at Shealyne, "We'll meet again...bloodsucker."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Time will tell, dog." Shealyne muttered, releasing a soft sigh, brushing a stray hair out of her sight, "Goodbye then."

With that, the two left the empty room, Arlen groaning on his way out, "Ah shit, Heimskr's out. Let's go before he tries converting us again."

Shealyne sighed. In all her unnatural years, she never met anyone like those two, and doubts she ever will again.

'...Now that leaves me with Hadvar. For now.' She thought, unsure how long she would remain in his company. She supposed until the man was called to fight for the Legion, or until he tired of her.

"Do you need something, miss?" Saadia almost startled Shealyne, coming out of a room holding a candle.

"No. No thank you. I'm just up early." Shealyne sat down at the counter, "I'll just wait for my partner to come down."

'...Damn, did I just call him my partner?' The Breton questioned, cursing herself quietly. Well, it was partly true.

Saadia didn't reply as she set down the candlestick and quickly rekindled the fire at the large hearth in the center of the room. She then went into the kitchen, out of sight.

Shealyne unconsciously began to hum a tune as she continued to wait for the man, glancing at the stairs every so often, then to the door leading to Whiterun. She wondered what was taking him so long? Oh well. She had nothing but time on her hands.

"The Age of Aggression." came a man's voice.

"..Damn.." Shealyne was startled once again. This time by the man she was looking for. "Excuse me?"

"That song you're humming, it's called the Age of Aggression. An Imperial song. I'm surprised you know it." he trotted down the stairs, dressed in his armor and all.

"Why are you surprised that I know of it?" She questioned, watching the man. She hadn't realized she was humming so loud...perhaps her ears were going after so many years?

"Well, you are from Cyrodiil...it was just unexpected I suppose."

"Do you disapprove of my humming? If so, I will simply remain quiet. Or hum softer." She crossed her arms, "And my singing voice is terrible. I could kill a man if he listens long enough."

Hadvar laughed, "Not at all, you may hum all you want. And oh, it can't be that bad." Shealyne could not keep her eyes away from his smile...it was so boyish and yet she was drawn to it. Her mouth was drawn to it, but she knew she couldn't just do that.

The woman stared at him, though chuckled almost girlishly-and had greatly embarrassed herself in the process-clamping her mouth shut, "...sorry. You laughed and then I laughed like a banshee and then...uuuhhh...yeah." She decided to shut her mouth rather than embarrass herself further. Damn, she really sucked with guys. She was acting like a teenager for Sithis' sake!

"...I like your smile." She stated, the simple comment spilling from her mouth far faster than she could think to stop it. Damn. She really was acting like a teenager. He probably thought she was a fool, now.

Hadvar looked down and grinned, "...thank you, I suppose. Listen, I have something to ask of you." he looked up at her, "Will you go with me to Riverwood today? To check up on my uncle Alvor? I want to know if he and his family are alright, and if the Jarl sent troops."

"Truly? After my embarrassing moment? We must be good friends, then." She laughed a bit playfully, "But...I think I would like that. Riverwood is such a cozy little town. I think that would be nice. Kind of reminds me of my little shack in the forest But with less trolls. And more dragons." She replied, though smiled, as did Hadvar.

They had a small breakfast with the help of Saadia, and by the time they set out, it was morning, and people lined the square and main streets of Whiterun.

Shealyne stared at the many products the artisans offered, her eyes leading her to an old woman with a stall full of jewelry-which was located directly outside of The Bannered Mare. She couldn't help it, she liked shiny things. And flowers.

"Trinkets and jewelry for a pretty lady!" The old woman cried, trying to attract attention to her wares, Shealyne already staring at the many shining pieces of gems and metals.

"Ohhhh, they're so pretty!" She exclaimed, not at all used to the latest fashion accessories from her years in solitude. She found it hard to believe that some of the jewelry was even made with the way some were shaped and perfectly molded.

Shealyne had to resist the urge to try on the jewelry, lest she would desire them even more. She also knew she did not have enough money to buy them-which in truth, she had spent her last coin on the ale from last night.

She frowned, turning away from the stall. She was never one for fancy things, but some of the jewelry was just so beautiful she would instantly buy them if she had the money. But alas, she did not.

Shealyne began to hum softly to herself once more as the pair made their way to the gates of Whiterun, both knowing full well the simple journey south would take a good portion of the day.

In time, the pair had passed the Honningbrew Meadery, the rural farmlands leading to more forested areas and rugged terrain.

The Breton had remained quiet for much of the journey save for the occasional soft humming, the woman not wanting to embarrass herself further. In time, her humming died as well, and the woman fell into complete silence, not wanting to annoy her companion.

"You're awfully quiet. Is something the matter?" Hadvar questioned, the Breton's gaze falling upon him as his voice broke the serenity of nature.

"No, why?" Shealyne questioned.

"Because you stopped humming. Come on, that has to mean something!" He laughed, "Are you over thinking again?"

"Unfortunately."

"Really? Care to tell what's on your mind?"

"I've just been wondering...how long are you going to stay in Riverwood? With the Imperial Legion and all?" Shealyne asked, curiosity in her voice.

"Hmmmm, I'm not sure, to be honest. A few days? A few weeks? I should get back to Solitude...report to General Tullius so he doesn't think I deserted. That wouldn't be fun." Hadvar muttered.

"Oh, I see." She replied, slightly crestfallen, her tone not going unnoticed by the Nord.

"Something the matter?"

"Well, were you to leave for the Legion-which you shall in due time-I was thinking that I may as well return to Cyrodiil. I have no true ties here in Skyrim, so without you I have truly no reason to stay within this country." She frowned, not entirely wanting to stay in Skyrim, yet not entirely wanting to return to her beloved Cyrodiil, for she truly had nowhere to return to in either county.

Hadvar thought for a moment, then said, "...You will think of something sooner or later, I'm sure of it." sounding slightly hesitant, as if these words were not his originally intended thoughts. "Heh, you can always join the Legion."

Shealyne smiled as well, "We'll see." though she thought it quite unlikely that she would do such a thing, "Do you have anyone in Riverwood? I'm not sure if being with a soldier would be a blessing or a curse, but I've seen many women whose husbands have gone off to war. Some returned, while many did not. But still, even the widows retained pride in the fact that their husbands gave their lives for the Empire, and fought like true Legionnaires. My husband wasn't a soldier, but I can only try to imagine how the wives of those soldiers felt when their husbands never returned. It must be painful." She then frowned slightly. From what she had seen of the Legion not too long ago, it had changed greatly over the years. Still, no matter how much the Imperial Legion may have been altered over the years, the loss of a loved one is always the same, and heartbreaking.

"My family is in Riverwood...wait, that's not what you meant, was it?" Hadvar questioned, trying to clarify the situation.

"No, that's not what I meant." She replied, grinning slightly, as if in a teasing manner.

"Well, in that case, no. I don't have anyone." The man answered, clearing his throat a bit.

Shealyne raised a brow at that. She found that a bit hard to believe. From what she could tell he was a good man, and had the desirable qualities of a potential spouse. Maybe the marriage values in Skyrim were different than those in Cyrodiil?

"Is it because of the Legion? If so, I can see why. I've seen it happen before." Shealyne asked, curious as she looked upon the man, though her focus soon fell upon the approaching village, "Well...here we are."

"Hmmmm? Oh, yeah. It's nice to be home." Hadvar murmured, "I hope the Jarl sent soldiers here in case that dragon comes back."

"Hopefully he did. I've heard nothing but good about the Jarl." The woman commented, the pair crossing the small bridge and arriving in the small town, "Wait...why do I smell smoke?" Shealyne asked, suddenly concerned for her safety, since fire was bad for vampires.

"What are you...wait, now I smell it. By the Gods! That dragon must have attacked!" Hadvar voiced in worry, the man taking off down the road as Shealyne followed-if at a slower pace.

Getting closer, the pair saw several trees still smoldering and a few houses charred black and leveled to the ground. No one was in the street.

They walked past The Sleeping Giant, which could normally be heard from the street with its usual merry crowd inside, but now was silent. Not even the town dog Stump was seen about.

Hadvar hurried to Alvor's house and forge, and thankfully saw it still standing. He rapped on the door, hoping for a response, and a few moments later, the door did open, but not by who Hadvar was expecting.

Dorthe peeked her head out, and once she saw Hadvar and Shealyne, opened it wider. "Why are you here?" she asked softly.

"Where is Alvor? And Sigrid?" Hadvar peered behind Dorthe searching for her parents, but the house was quiet.

"...Papa and Mama…" Dorthe started rubbing her eyes and whimpering, which turned into sobbing.

"Oh Dorthe..it was the dragon, wasn't it?" Shealyne said almost apologetically and wrapped her arms around the girl. Shealyne frowned at the little girl's sorrow, still, she knew from experience that a parent would gladly die to protect their children. At least she would have. She would have risked everything for her children.

Hadvar took in the situation. "There will be time to grieve, Dorthe, but right now you must answer my questions for the safety of Riverwood. How long ago did this happen?" the man crouched to her level.

Dorthe sniffed, "Overnight."

"How many others died? Do you remember? And where are they?"

"I..I don't know. Mama and Papa..the elf man..one of Hod's cows. The Stormcloak's badly hurt." Dorthe wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

"The Stormcloak?" Shealyne asked. She wasn't quite familiar with all of Riverwood's inhabitants yet.

Hadvar frowned, "Ralof. The one we were supposed to execute at Helgen, remember? He must've returned here. Gerdur is his sister." Hadvar stood up and asked Dorthe, "And there were no soldiers here yet?"

"Y-Yes there were a few. Some of them died, too. They're with Ralof at the Sleeping Giant." Dorthe answered.

"And all the wounded are at the Sleeping Giant?" Shealyne asked, "I have knowledge in restoration magic. I can help them...or make a few potions."

"Dorthe, stay here. We'll be right back to figure out what to do." Hadvar started for the door, Shealyne following.

Across the street, they entered into the hall of the Sleeping Giant and at once they were greeted by a few helmetless guards sitting around the fire. Ralof joined them sporting a few bandages. When he spotted the two, he set down his mug.

"Well, look who shows up. A man who claims he loves his country but is nowhere to be found in its distress." Ralof scowled

"And before me I see an ale guzzling, barbaric Nord who is destroying his own country by having it fall into a civil war. I applaud you, I truly do." Shealyne replied, sarcastic venom laced within her voice.

"Please, let there be no fighting. I'm not your enemy right now, Ralof. We were in Whiterun to ask the Jarl for Riverwood's aid in the first place. If we had not gone, these guards before you wouldn't have come, and the entire town might have fallen. It'd be Helgen all over again." Hadvar stated, but Ralof said nothing.

"Now that our pleasant greetings are exchanged, who is in need of healing? Or want healing?" Shealyne questioned, her hands starting to glow in a faint light. She know fully well that some people tended to be weary of magic. Or at least some forms of magic.

She attempted to approach Ralof, but the Nord merely sneered at her, "Keep your fancy magic fingers away from me, Breton."

The woman scrunched her nose, "As you wish. Be in pain, then." She growled softly, beginning to turn towards the other wounded men. Many did not refuse her aid, though some were naturally wary.

"Well then...that is that, I suppose." Shealyne muttered, the woman looking upon her hands, which had gotten some blood upon them in the process of aiding the men.

"So the dead are: Alvor, Sigrid, Faendal, a few Whiterun guards and a cow?" Hadvar asked the group, which earned an affirmative answer from one of the guards. "We'll have to properly identify the guards if we can." Hadvar said.

"We've already burned the bodies." Ralof answered, taking a drink from his mug, "The guards know who died among them."

"What did you do with the cow?" Shealyne asked, wondering if she could take the opportunity to feed from it. The blood may have clotted already...but blood was blood. She didn't want to risk feeding on the locals.

"What are ya, some kinda Daedra worshipper? Whattaya want a cow for?" Ralof muttered.

"Because I don't want the cow to go to waste. I can make use of it." She answered, crossing her arms, forgetting she had blood on her hands and accidentally smeared her shirt, "Damn it."

"Well, it's Hod's. He was going to butcher it for its meat." Ralof rolled his eyes.

'Great. I'm going to starve.' Shealyne thought, 'And now I'll have to clean my clothing. Shit. Did I even bring a spare set?' She now became lost in thought, frowning. An unfortunate woman with only one set of clothing...who ever heard of that? Apparently she was said unfortunate woman.

"He may as well keep it then..." Shealyne muttered, knowing the cow would go to waste with her intended purposes, "I am going to clean my clothes." and left Hadvar with the other men.

With that, the Breton exited the Sleeping Giant and followed the river upstream, a rabbit fleeing from her. Shealyne cocked her head, looking at the small coney before glancing back down the road, the village no longer in sight. However, the woman had ignored the small mammal, her want to kill long dead. If she were lucky, maybe she could slip out during the night and feed on some of the livestock.

Shealyne sighed, approaching the river bed and kneeling beside the flowing water, once more looking at her hands covered in blood. Shaking her head, she lowered her hands into the river, washing them of the life liquid.

Once her hands were clean, the woman began to take off her bloodied shirt. Submerging herself into the water, Shealyne shivered. The waters of Skyrim seems so much colder as compared to Cyrodiil. Goosebumps became to form upon her skin as Shealyne paused at her waist, trying to scrub the blood from her attire. Blood was always difficult to get out. She may not even be able to get it out.

Her tongue stuck out in concentration, and after cleaning her shirt as best she could, Shealyne hung the article of clothing on a low lying branch. Once done, the woman proceeded to sit down and wait.

Shealyne did nothing save watch the river, the woman then sighing as she thought back upon the recent travesty. What if the group had returned to Riverwood during the night? Perhaps Dorthe would still have her parents then. Yet she knew better. She knew they would have never arrived on time, and that dwelling upon the past was useless when it could not be changed, only learnt from.

"Poor Dorthe." Shealyne frowned, feeling for the little girl. She could only imagine what the girl was going through, and while her maternal instincts beckoned to comfort the girl, she knew she should not. It was not her place to be the guardian to a child she had just met yesterday, and it was certainly not to try and replace her mother. Riverwood looked after its own, so she knew Dorthe would be alright.

The sun had already set when the woman returned to Riverwood. Her clothes may not have been completely dry, but they were good enough for her.

Shealyne rested alongside the outer wall of Riverwood, not wanting to spend the night anywhere else. It felt wrong if she spent the night with Dorthe, for it felt as if she were disrespecting the child's parents by sleeping in their humble home. She also felt as if she would put the broken family in danger. She dared not spend the night at The Sleeping Giant either, for she did not even have enough money. In fact...she had no money. Still, Shealyne did not mind spending the night outside. The sounds of the night brought her comfort. At least there were no trolls to worry about here. Only dragons.

The sound of footsteps tore her eyes to the road, and she saw Hadvar trotting to her, saying, "There you are, were you out here all day? I was looking for you!"

"I told you I was going to wash my clothes. That means 'alone time'...and not that kind of alone time, either." Shealyne stated, pausing to correct her speech.

"Ahhhh...I see." Hadvar replied, face flushing a bit, though the through the darkness was not easily visible, "So...what are you doing out here in the dark? It can be dangerous out at night."

"I plan on sleeping outside." She answered, as if it was obvious. The Nord shook his head.

"Why would you do that? That's a good way to end up dead."

"Hiding inside doesn't help when you're caught in a burning building from dragon fire." Shealyne retorted, almost instantly realizing the unintended harshness in her words, "I'm sorry, Hadvar. I didn't mean it like that."

Hadvar remained silent for several seconds, shifting slightly, "I know. It's okay, Shealyne."

She frowned, "If you need someone to talk to, I'm here. I know how it feels to lose loved ones."

He smiled a bit sullenly, his actions far more laden with grief than when she last saw him, "Thank you. I guess I have you to count on, eh? That's good to hear."

The woman nodded, smiling through pursed lips as her gaze fell downcast to the earth below, head bobbing, "How is she?"

"Upset. I'm not sure what I'll do now. I can't just leave the Legion to take care of Dorthe, I would be executed for desertion. Yet if I follow the Legion into war I may not return. Then Dorthe will have no one." Hadvar sighed, deep and heavy.

"I see...Well, if you don't...come back...at least Dorthe will have the rest of Riverwood to take care of her." Shealyne stated, finding it rather hard for her to speak of him dying. That would truly be tragic.

"Yeah. That's one good thing, I guess." He murmured, shrugging, "But, on another note: you aren't going to actually spend the night out here, are you?"

"That's the plan."

"A terrible idea, that. I think you should spend the night with me and Dorthe. I think Dorthe would like someone to talk to-other than me, I mean. I think she could use a friend...just in case."

"If you don't come back?" She questioned, Hadvar simply nodding in response.

"I...don't think that's a good idea." Shealyne commented, "I feel like sleeping in the house of the recently deceased is wrong."

"They aren't going to be used much, then. Just for tonight, that's all I ask. I don't think it's safe for anyone to be in the street incase that dragon comes back again." Hadvar reasoned, the woman frowning.

"There's more to it than that." She stated, the man crossing his arms.

"Then tell me what is wrong."

Shealyne sighed, shaking her head. There were many reasons as to why she did not want to spend the night in Alvor's house. She did not want to disrespect the dead by interfering with their earthly objects. She also did not want to go within that house due to her hunger-for doing so would put both man and child in danger. She did not want to befriend the Nordic child-as an undead, she was hardly a fitting role model. Yet, she yearned to nurture and protect something-though becoming a maternal figure to the girl was not her place. She did not want to disrespect the girl's mother by doing so. However, one of the main reasons was simply how the man made her feel-though it was a feeling she was unaccustomed to and did not understand. She dared to admit that in the many weeks they had traveled together that she had genuinely cared for the young man's well being. But was that wrong? He was her friend.

"It's just...how you make me feel. I do not understand it, and I know what I feel is useless and foolish because you...you..." She paused, trying to explain, "...Do not feel the same way I do-cannot-in fact. I also know that you turn me into a flubbering fool and that undermines my self confidence. I dislike it. I want it to stop, but I don't know how to make it go away." She stated, frowning as her arms crossed over her chest.

"I-you know what? Forget I even said anything. Forget it. I just feel uncomfortable in new houses." She muttered, beginning to slowly walk away. With that, the woman returned to her wall, resting against it.

'Why do I feel like kissing you?' She thought, desperate to get away and focus upon something else, happy to be away from the man where his scent didn't distract her.

"Umm...okay, then?" Hadvar questioned, confused by the woman's antics. From one feeling to another. Typical woman. He turned, starting towards Alvor's house, and said, "Well...do what you want. I'll be sleeping in Alvor's house. I'll figure out what to do with Dorthe in the morning."

With unnatural speed, Shealyne stepped towards Hadvar, turned him around, and pressed her lips to his without hesitation. He almost stepped back in surprise, but didn't, and instead decided to return the affection. She regretted nothing.

After breaking it, Shealyne submitted, "I'll stay with you and Dorthe tonight. In the comfort of the house." and sighed. With that, Hadvar silently started towards the house again, Shealyne following.

What the future holds for her, Hadvar, and little Dorthe no one could know. But what Shealyne does know, as long as she sticks with the best Nord in Skyrim-no, Tamriel-for the time being, it'll be alright.

"Oh, and, uhhh, Shealyne?" Hadvar called, turning around towards the woman so that he blocked the door.

"Yes?" She asked, a thin brow cocked in curiosity.

"I know your little secret." The man whispered, a grin plastered upon his face as the woman looked upon him with confusion.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I felt your fangs." He stated, seeing a look of horror and worry flood Shealyne's features. Hadvar then burst out laughing upon seeing her reaction, shaking his head before allowing her entry into the house, "It's alright. I have faith that you'll be able to control yourself."

She stood for several seconds, taking in what the man had said before sighing as she entered the dwelling, muttering with a slight smile, "Damn Nord."