Hi :3

Disclaimer: I don't own Skyrim, Elder Scrolls, or anything to do with that. I own the main heroine in this story, but I do not own Ondolemar, sadly. :')

The armored man stood by the gate, his eyes wide with shock. Within seconds, that beautiful young woman was dead on the stone. The life completely sucked out of her pale, still body. He watched the guards approach the bodies for a moment, before turning around and opening the gate.

"Hang on! I've got a pulse!"

The man in armor spun around instantly and saw a guard kneeling over Marina's body, signalling for help.

"Someone help me get her up, now!" The guard commanded. The man in armor sprinted over to Marina's body and helped the guard rise her body. The guard tensed, but allowed him to help.

"To the keep, lad." The guard commanded. The other man nodded and they proceeded to drag Marina up the stone steps.

Ondolemar was speaking with a handful or guards and a troublesome priest. Brother Verulus was a ridiculous loudmouth. He never gave up, especially when it came to solving a problem. He had a problem within the Hall of the Dead. The dead were being eaten, and he didn't know why. He explained this to Ondolemar, who was about to respond when the armored man and the other guard rushed in with Marina's limp body.

"We need a healer!" The guard yelled.

Ondolemar's eyes went wide for a split second as he lay his eyes on the girl he saw only a few hours before, calm and clean and polite. Now she seemed cold and empty. Ondolemar shuddered ever so slightly as he glared at the priest, who did nothing at the moment. Brother Verulus crossed his arms as the armored man approached him.

"You must help us! Please!" He begged. Brother Verulus scoffed.

"Why should I? By what right could you possibly ask me this?" The armored man glared in response and removed his helmet.

"By right of birth. My name is Yann, Dragonborn of Tamriel." He stated, staring into the priest's eyes. Brother Verulus raised a brow and stepped closer.

"Prove it." He said. Yann's eyes widened, before glaring back at the priest once more.

"You do not want me to do that, sir." He threatened.

"Oh, I insist."

Yann's eyes flared with anger as he inhaled deeply and unleashed a powerful burst of energy from his throat. He bellowed in a strange, foreign language and sent the priest flying across the room, smacking into the stone wall. Yann stormed over to Brother Verulus's half-conscious form and grabbed him by the collar of his robe, raising him up and looking him straight in the eye.

"Heal her." He hissed. Brother Verulus nodded, quivering with terror.

"Y-yes, o-of course!" When Yann dropped him, he scrambled to his feet and limped painfully over to Marina's body. When he failed to immediately display his healing spell, he was pushed aside by none other than Ondolemar. Brother Verulus took this opportunity to escape the scene and return to his Hall of the Dead.

The guards called for extra assistance and Faleen and Aicantar soon arrived with a small bag full of healing potions. Throughout the healing process, small potions would be poured into Marina's mouth.

"Inferior bastard knows nothing about magic, let alone healing spells." Ondolemar muttered as he gazed upon Marina's body. His hard expression softened once more, just like it had earlier in the morning when she confessed that she wanted to hear his voice and be near him again. He suddenly shook away that feeling and glared, attempting to concentrate on his magicka.

Within seconds, a powerful, bright golden glow rose from the palms of his hands, and he gently inserted his fingertips into the small of her back, where the dagger's blade had first struck. He watched the flesh twinkle and bleed out profusely as he worked his way through the wound. When the wound became too narrow for him to slide his fingers in deeper, he removed them, and flipped her to her other side, so that he could work on the other end.

His hands danced upon her abdomen, the magic flowing around her stomach and rib area. He dipped his fingertips into the wound and waited for the flesh to mend. Slowly but surely, after what seemed like a thousand ages, the flesh finally seemed to mend in the narrow middle of the wound, and the wound, though only slightly, was mended.

"It will hold, and with extra care, it will heal fully within time." He said. He was about to stand and call for assistance to bring Marina to a bed when he suddenly realized how close he actually was to her face at this point. Marina's eyes were half open now, and her skin was less cold and less pale than it had been. Her half-lidded eyes stared at him, a small smile creeping upon her face. On the inside she was jumping for joy, through all the pain and confusion she had felt in the moment she was attacked, all of that seemed so inferior to the happiness she was feeling right now.

She wanted to speak, tell him how happy she was, ask him if this meant he really did care about her, thank him, hold him, touch him, anything to show her gratitude and joy. But she couldn't speak. All she could seem to do, without feeling too dizzy, was smile and stare. She sighed softly, and closed her eyes. With all her might, she slowly raised a shaking hand and touched his own. His hand. That hand that had dug into her trauma and released enlightenment.

Ondolemar let her keep her hand there for a moment, almost accidentally holding it tighter, more securely, and squeezing it. He mentally shook his head and furrowed his brows as he pulled away and called for his entourage of Justiciars to bring her to a bed immediately.

Marina lost consciousness again, and she was carried away by the elven superiors. Yann rubbed the back of his neck, sighing in relief. He didn't know why he was so concerned about a woman he didn't even speak to before. It was almost like he fell for her, at first sight.

No, no that couldn't be right. Yann shook his head and strode over to Ondolemar.

"Thank you for helping me, sir. I really-" Yann began.

"I, in no way, was helping you, fool. I saved the girl's life. I fail to see how this aids you." Ondolemar spat. Yann's eyes widened, and he began to quiver with rage.

"I am no fool. I am the Dragonborn." Yann raised his voice. Ondolemar raised a brow in amusement as he turned to face the warrior.

"That title does not exempt you from being a buffoon. Look at you. You fail to control yourself even now. All I did was simply state the truth, and you look ready to explode. How can you be called the Dragonborn when you cannot control your own emotions? You can't seem to control your feelings, so how could you ever control your power? Think of the damage your idiocy could cause. You are a blind man, guided by illusion. You fail to see the reality and the truth of the matter. Until you do, I suggest you stay far out of my way, cretin." He snapped, walking further into the Keep and as far as he could get from the young warrior.

Yann's nostrils flared as he met reality. He knew he was immature. He knew he was a fool. But he also was certain that there was nothing he could do about that. Outraged, he stormed out of the Keep and returned to the Inn, requesting a bed for the night.

Ondolemar paced in the meeting room. He tried to block out the image of Marina's hand upon his, her eyes burning into his, her smile brighter than his. She seemed so elated, so overjoyed to wake up and see him. She seemed happier to see him instead of the fact that she was going to live. The fact that she seemed to care about him so much made him feel uneasy. It was ridiculous! She seemed smitten with a mer, let alone a male, that she just met.

He didn't know why, but he felt strange about that. The feeling wasn't bad, but it seemed very foreign. Unusual. It felt as if he had swallowed a dragonfly and it was buzzing around his stomach. The possibilities that could be the reason for this feeling made him upset. Made him angry.

And that boy. That stupid excuse for a hero, Yann. He made him angry, too. Foolish behavior, overly-dramatic, deluded. It was horrible! The way he looked at Marina's body. So concerned and terrified. That upset Ondolemar as well. He didn't know why Yann's feelings angered him so, but they did.

And Ondolemar did not like it.

^.^ Thanks for reading! (I know that two chapters in one day isn't the best idea, but I want to tide y'all over because I'll be quite busy soon and won't have enough time to update. So I'm trying to make the wait worth it. :D Hope you enjoyed.)

~Noodle12