The sky was gone when Lydia woke up. In its place was a heavy fog, covering the swamps and the hills of Hjaalmarch. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, then stretched, rolling her neck and feeling it crack satisfyingly as she did so. She sat up and looked around. Though the sun was not visible through the mists, it was clearly no longer night. Elk bugled forlornly in the woods around them, but the animals might as well have been invisible in this weather.
A soft step in the forest behind her made Lydia whirl around, startled. Volund was walking toward her, his face calm and his metal armor – still on his body – covered in small drops of dew. He nodded good morning to her, and she sighed.
Standing, she began to put on the armor pieces she had removed last night, but did not let that stop her from admonishing Volund.
"My thane, did you sleep at all?"
"No."
Lydia made an expression that was as close to a glare as Volund had ever seen her give.
"You should have woken me at midnight, at least, my thane."
"Wasn't tired," he said bemusedly. "Ever since the dragon, I don't sleep much."
Lydia stopped in the middle of buckling on a large piece of steel. "Is something wrong, my thane? Do you dream, or…" she stopped as he waved away her concern.
"Nothing's wrong. It's not dreams, it's not anything. At least, it's nothing bad. I feel fine – great, in fact. Better than ever." He knelt and helped Lydia ready her gear, despite a disapproving noise from her. She noticed in the process of rolling up her bedding that an extra blanket had been draped over her during the night. When she mentioned it, Volund coughed.
"We ran out of wood for the fire, and I didn't want to go cut more and leave the camp unattended. Then it started to get cold and misty, so I thought you might appreciate a little extra warmth.
Lydia got a dazed sort of smile on her face, and gave a light laugh.
"We'd better not tell anyone the Dragonborn is so thoughtful – it might ruin your image with the guards. But," she added, "thank you, my thane."
Volund let out an over-emphasized grunt. "Tell 'em whatever you want – my reputation's safe. If killing a dragon in front of them isn't enough, I'll just have to show them this!" He struck an exaggerated, manly pose.
His housecarl was stoic at first, but when Volund continued to hold the pose and began to waggle his eyebrows at an imaginary guard, she let out a small snort, then bent at the waist and began to make a noise that sounded distinctly like giggling. Volund let his arms drop and laughed as well.
When the two had recovered, they dismantled what little remained of their camp and heaved their packs onto their shoulders once more, to begin the trip back to High Hrothgar. Volund, however, had one last word on the matter.
"We'd better not tell the guards that you giggle, either. They might start to realize there's a woman under all that armor."
Lydia blushed. "I didn't giggle, my thane. It was more like chuckling."
"It was giggling, Lydia. It was pretty, it was girly, and it was giggling."
She sighed heavily in defeat. "If you say so, my thane."
"I do say so. You know, that reminds me of something. I've never heard what your birth sign is. I almost suspected you of having the Mage sign last night with how fast you picked up that fire spell, but people with the Mage sign are usually arrogant – and they never giggle."
Lydia groaned. "I'd rather not say, my thane."
"Why not? It's nothing to be embarrassed about; you don't control when you were born. What's so bad about your sign?"
"My sign is the Lover," Lydia muttered under her breath.
"The Lover? Graceful, passionate. I can definitely see it now that you mention it. What's so bad about that? I know women who would kill to be able to claim your sign."
Her blush returned with a vengeance. "My thane, do you know how much a prospective housecarl is teased when the guards learn that she's a Lover?"
Some form of understanding slowly crept over Volund's features. "They were afraid you would be a Lover and not a fighter? Maybe you wouldn't be man enough for your job?" he joked, but Lydia didn't smile.
"No, my thane, I – can we just drop it, please?"
Volund was a bit taken aback.
"Of course, Lydia. I'm sorry."
"No, my thane, you don't need to… I'm not angry, just… nevermind. Forget I said anything, my thane. Please."
Volund nodded, and the two fell silent for some time afterward.
XxXxXxXx
When they reached High Hrothgar, Lydia again waited outside, together with her pack and Volund's while the Dragonborn entered the sanctuary to present the Greybeards with the horn. A few moments later, she threw herself to the ground and covered her ears as the mountain began to shake with a roar that, even through the stone building and her clasped hands, was painfully loud. She could hear the words clearly, but none were recognizable except Kyne, Shor, Atmora, and Ysmir. It wasn't long before Volund emerged, pale and shaken, moving slowly. Lydia's foul mood that had lingered since the morning now vanished, and worry replaced it. She rushed to Volund's side; he looked unsteady enough to stumble on the stairs.
"My thane, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" She was almost breathless.
"No, not hurt." Volund didn't look at her, staring instead out over the awe-inspiring view of Skyrim that High Hrothgar commanded. Just as Lydia was about to insist that he sit down, he spoke again. "I'm Ysmir now."
No Nord could ever have expected to hear that sentence. Lydia could only stammer, "My… My thane, what?"
"I don't know. Not Talos… I'm not Talos, obviously, but I am Ysmir. I'm the Dragon of the North, and I wear the Stormcrown that Talos wore. The Greybeards said it. Kyne and Shor and Akatosh and all the history of Atmora and Skyrim are all gathered together, looking at me now, and I'm their champion, their representative here, and I can't let them down, and I don't even know what it is that I'm supposed to be doing." He took a ragged breath, then another.
"I understood it, Lydia. I understood everything for a moment. When they Shouted their greeting to me I understood what they were saying, even though it was in the dragon language. I… their shouts should have torn me apart I think, but they just sounded like children whispering in my ears. They're just mortals, Lydia, but I'm something else. I'm the Dragon of the North, Atmora's first son."
He drew in a deep breath and his eyes narrowed as he looked out over the land, and Lydia cringed backward from him. She had seen, for just a moment, a ring of fire and lightning on his brow. Then he sighed, and his shoulders dropped low, and he turned to face her but she no longer cringed. His face was the same friendly one she had gotten to know in recent days, only now it looked very lonely and a little sad.
"And all I want is for it all to go away, and to just be Volund again. I had a good life. A little lonely, sometimes, but the loneliest man alive is in more company than a dragon. Now I'm a thane, and Dragonborn, and Atmoran, and Ysmir, and Divines only know what else."
Lydia stepped closer to him, and put a hand firmly on his shoulder.
"Whatever else you may be, you are not alone…" she whispered, and closed her eyes. "…Volund."
He stared at her, eyes almost wild. He grabbed her, then, and hugged her, armor plates clanking together unheeded, and he held on to her as if she was his only anchor to reality. As his surprised housecarl returned the embrace, Volund cried openly.
