"Officer Ralof, you have a letter from your sister", hollered a guard as he navigated through the crowded dinning area of the Dawnstar's guard's barrack.
Taking the offered letter, the tall blond man thanked his subordinate and resumed his meal. Gerdur was probably asking for news like she always did when he was away. Maybe she would ask him to come back to Riverwood to celebrate the coming of Morning Star. He decided it could wait. His day had been terrible and he was more in need of a hot meal than a letter at the moment, even if he cared a great deal for his sister. He was also in a sour mood because Luthien had not written to him, not even once, since her departure at the end of Sun's Dusk. Two whole months of waiting and still nothing. He had thought about writing to her, but he had no idea where she was and if a courier would be able to reach her. So, he had to remind himself that had the Dragonborn died, the news would have been travelling around faster than fire on a troll's fur. He had to remind himself that she was probably still alive, which, of course, led him to fear she was somehow angry with him. After all, she would have every reason to be; after insulting her race, he had had his way with her against the rough wall of the barrack as if she had been a common wench. After which, he had send her on her way without even a stolen kiss for he was afraid of what others might thing and finally, he had kept a secret his affection for her. Still, a little voice in his head kept whispering she had been the one who agreed on hiding their relationship. The letter was thus forgotten until the soldier retired for the night.
The light in the bedroom was dim and his eyes were treacherously closing against his will, but Ralof cracked the wax seal and unfolded the parchment. Before reading the words, the blond man noticed the handwriting was unfamiliar. It was slightly slanted, clean and precise unlike Gerdur's large cursive letters. Curious, he began to read.
Dear Ralof,
I hope you can forgive me for the delay. When we parted in Dawnstar I promised to write to you as soon as I had a moment. Unfortunately, I had very little spare time between dungeon delving after an old horn, meeting new allies and studying with the Greybeards. I also forgot to tell you that, though I can now speak almost properly in Norse tongue, I cannot write...
"Luthien", breathed the man, a large smile appearing on his tired face. He could not suppress a little chuckle at the idea of his little Elf stuck between her promise to write back and her inability to do so. She had probably found someone to write it down for her, he thought, the shadow of fear creeping in his mind.
Do not worry about the scribe of this letter finding out about us, he is in a similar situation. Anyhow, enough with the boring details. Here is what I have been up to since I left you nearly two months ago.
His fears under control, he continued his reading. As he read the words, he could almost hear her speak and it made him happy. Despite her being far away, he felt like he had a little part of her with him.
When I arrived in Ustengrav, I was quite surprised to see the opponents I feared fight against each other and eliminate themselves without my intervention. In fact, most of the fighting had occurred before I arrived and I was able to reach the horn without too much trouble. There was one small complication actually, "a friend" had already taken the horn, so I crawled out of that old, corpse and necromancer infested tomb and made my way to Riverwood. Your town is full of surprises let me tell you! Though I trust you with my life, I cannot tell you more on this subject in this letter, it could, after all, fall in the wrong hands and cause a lot of problems to very precious allies. My friend and me then travelled to Kynesgrove where we fought a dragon together; I wish you had been there. Alduin was there; he spoke above the dragon's tomb and raised him from his sleep. I do not know why, but Alduin did not bother to attack us. After raising the terrible beast, he flew away and left us to deal with him. My friend is a very good fighter: she is fearless. I'm sure you would like her.
After that fight, after I absorbed the dragon's soul, she trusted me completely and recognized me as Dragonborn. I went to retrieve a friend of her and we travelled to an old temple lost in the mountains. I am truly sorry for all the secrecy, but their strength is too weak and should the Thalmor find out about them, I would never forgive myself. When we meet again, I promise I will tell you everything. If you wish, I could take you to this place. It is truly impressive and there are some beautiful stone carvings.
After, I climbed the Throat of the World to bring the horn to the Greybeards. They were quite glad to retrieve it I believe. They taught me new Shouts, as they call them and they initiated me to the Way of the Voice. They said my "thuum" (the word is unknown to me, but she insist on its existence –Faendal-) is powerful and I hope it will be enough to stop Alduin. Master Arngeir is so knowledgeable! He is the only Greybeard to speak to me. Actually, Borri greeted me the morning before I left High Hrothgar and the walls shook! Can you believe it? I thought the stones were going to fall to on my head. I have not tried to make conversation with them since...
Also, I learned from the most reliable sources that there is a way to defeat Alduin! My friend's friend deciphered some old documents and there is now hope. There is also someone you need to meet! He is the wisest person in all of Tamriel! I really cannot say anymore on this letter, but I will take you to him.
In the future, I will be travelling across Skyrim, for a few months at least, to learn new Words of Power. I also wanted to thank you again for your amulet, it seems Shouting is a lot easier when I wear it. It has been quite useful during my training and travelling.
By the way, Gerdur hopes you will be able to come to Riverwood for the Morning Star. I believe I will be staying a few days in Riverwood around that time to catch my breath, hopefully we can see each other. I could show you how I wield a bow! I think you would be impressed since I could barely notch an arrow back in Helgen. On a very joyful note, I learned a Shout to stop your horrible Skyrim snow from falling. I shouted myself hoarse the day I learnt it, though it does very little against the blood freezing cold, it does calm the wind. I cannot wait for spring to come...
Affectionately yours,
LUTHIEN
Her signature was written in an awful calligraphy and the ink had soaked through the paper in many places as she, no doubt, hesitated before tracing the crude letters. Her effort brought a little smile to the officer's lips. Placing the letter in his locked chest, he went to sleep. There would be a lot of work awaiting him tomorrow if he wanted to prepare his men to deal with Dawnstar during the two weeks' leave he would take for Morning Star.
A week later, Ralof was finally coming home. As usual, Riverwood was barely covered in a thin blanket of snow and the temperature was a lot warmer than anywhere else in Skyrim. He could see the mill turning lazily in the calm water, the fields covered in a delicate frozen blanket and the white smoke coming out of the village's chimneys. The guards saluted him as he passed the doors, his heavy bear cape marking his rank.
It felt good to come home after months of hard work and fighting. He knew he ought to feel a bit guilty for leaving his men in Dawnstar when he took leave to be with his family, but it was one of the privileges of being Officer, and since the death of the One-Eyed-Menace, the small city had been quite eventless. Surely his men would enjoy his absence and frequent the local tavern a little more often than he normally would have allowed. His guilt faded when he saw the unmistakable leather-clad Dunmer talking animatedly with the resident hunter Faendal. They seemed to be enjoying themselves while working outside Alvor's forge. His good humour faded away quickly, being replaced by jealousy when his little elf leaned toward the Mer to whisper in his ear. He started walking a little faster in their direction, hoping to catch what they were talking about. The hunter was whispering back when he loudly cleared his throat. The little grey woman turned around briskly, knocking over the arrows she had been working on a moment earlier and smiled brightly at the tall blond man.
"Ralof!" she very nearly screamed, jumping to her feet and grabbing him in a surprisingly tight hug.
All trace of jealousy melted away when he felt her close to him. Not wasting a moment, he returned the hug, lifting her from the ground in the process not caring if anyone thought it inappropriate.
"It's so good to see you," she breathed against his neck.
He fought the urge to kiss her in the middle of the street, consequences be damned and settled to lightly brush his thumb across her ear lobe eliciting a small shiver. The gesture would appear odd but would not strike the Nords as much as a kiss. He noticed, though, that Faendal had averted his eyes quickly and cleared his throat discreetly.
A slight purple blush across her cheeks, Luthien stepped away from her friend and lover and introduced him to Faendal. Ralof learned that the two of them had gone on a two weeks adventure through the wild to hunt dragons! The Wood Elf had even found the time to teach her a thing or two about archery, which had allowed her to officially trade her mage robes for a light leather armour.
"Weren't you a mage?" asked Ralof a bit confused. He remembered how she had almost got them both killed in the cave near Helgen when she had tried to help him kill the sleeping bear. Her arrow had sprung free before she had properly aimed and, hitting a boulder, had woken the animal effectively robbing them of the element of surprise.
"No, as I told you before, I know a few spells but I'm too weak to fight long with magic. The bow his a lot more suited to my fighting style," she answered.
"You have a fighting style!" he replied flabbergasted. When had that little timid woman become a warrior? He did not mean to belittle her, but he could hardly imagine her fighting, even if he had seen her roasting a dragon to death.
"Yes, you see, Faendal taught me stealth fight," she told him. "It's how we've been dealing with dragons for the past two weeks," she finished as if it was the most banal thing to say.
"Exactly how many dragons have you fought?"
"Four," replied the little woman, looking at the Mer companion for confirmation. When he nodded she turned back to Ralof. "They seem to know where I am…" she finished sheepishly.
"We will talk more about this later, for now, I'm just glad to see you alive," interrupted the tall Nord.
She could see worry in his eyes and chose to respect his decision. Truth be told, she was also extremely happy to have him with her. Sensing the tension between the two of them, Faendal excused himself, grabbing his new arrows and latest quarry, and made his way to the Riverwood Trader. Now alone, Luthien and Ralof stood awkwardly facing each other. They both wanted nothing more than to be in each other arms, but being in public it was unfortunately impossible. Ralof was about to say something when Luthien spoke.
"You should go see Gerdur, she was worrying about if you would come or not."
"Yes, I should," he answered his eyes never leaving hers.
Grabbing his large hand for a short comforting squeeze, Luthien replied, "Go, I have a few things to take care of. Meet me at the Inn when you are done. Ask for the attic room," she finished. She had to wait a bit before he let her hand go, then, they parted ways. Luthien quickly filled her quiver with the new arrows and, grabbing her bow, made her way to the Sleeping Giant.
The establishment was empty except for Embry, the town drunk who had probably spent more time and money at the inn then in his house in the past years, and Orgnar, the Inn keeper.
"If it isn't our Dragonborn!" said the black haired man behind his counter cheerfully. "Your usual room's ready," he finished, showing her the largest room.
"Good day Orgnar. Thanks for the room," she answered while settling in what had been Delphine's room prior to the discovery of Sky Haven Temple. "If someone asks for the attic room, would you mind sending them to me?"
" 'course, anything for our Dragonborn. By the way, do you still have those huge bones from last time? I thought it'd be nice to put one on the wall."
Even since Delphine had introduced her to Orgnar as Dragonborn, the man had insisted she stay in the Inn free of charge. When she had argued and 'accidently' slipped a coin purse in his pocket, he had accepted to receive artefacts from her travels as a form of payment. He now had a complete collection of ancient Nord weaponry adorning his wall and a beautiful collection of rings to expose on his counter. Apparently, he would very soon have dragon bones hanging from his ceiling too, thought Luthien as she brought him a heavy ivory tibia she kept stored in the hidden room.
The sun was low on the horizon when Gerdur finally released Ralof. Even though he was eager to meet with Luthien again, he had to admit seeing his sister had been very pleasant. She had fussed a bit about him being gone for too long then they had shared stories about their time apart. She had, of course, insisted he ate a large bowl of stew after which Frodnar had tumbled in the house with Stump asking for stories. He had to calm the boy down when he told him he had fought a dragon and had to deal with a very excited nephew fighting imaginary dragons for the rest of the evening.
He was a bit surprised to see Orgnar managing the Inn by himself, even more when he was directed to the master bedroom after asking for the attic one. The first thing he noticed was that the bedroom was empty. He was about to exit the room and ask the innkeeper for explanation when he heard a voice coming out of the wardrobe. "Is someone there?"
"Luthien? Why are you hiding in the wardr…" his speech was interrupted as the small woman emerged from the wooden furniture and motioned for him to follow her.
"There's no way I'll fit in that thing," he argued as she grabbed his arm and pulled him behind her.
"Just follow me silly!" added the Dunmer, rolling her eyes.
She showed him the hidden room and motioned for him to climb down the stairs. She then carefully closed the wooden doors and slid the false wall behind her before joining him downstairs. She found him looking at the impressive weapon collection on the wall. Walking softly behind him, she encircled his waist and lifted herself on tiptoes to place a light kiss on his neck.
"Luthien," he said in warning. "We need to talk."
Relinquishing her hold, she allowed him to face her. "Ask away," she whispered against his chest as she brought her arms around him once more.
"First of all, what is this?" he said showing the room around them.
"It's a hidden room, to talk and do secret things," she answered with a smile, unclasping his heavy fur cloak and pushing it off his shoulders.
"Luthien, I'm serious."
"It's a secret room. I met Delphine and Esbern, the last of the Blades, here. We made plans about defeating Alduin, killing dragons and finding a hidden temple." She took a few seconds to place a kiss on his chin and resumed her talking. "We plotted the infiltration of the Thalmor embassy, I stole secret documents," she unclasped the belt holding his blue drape. "We found the secret Temple and Delphine left me the room. Satisfied?" she finished pulling the blue cloth to the ground.
"Who is that wise man you were talking about in your letter?" asked Ralof, avoiding the dark grey lips that tried to silence him with a kiss. It had been hard to read that letter so full of secret and he was eager to know more. Reading such praise about someone else had been a harder than he liked to admit. He knew he ought not to be jealous but it was hard, especially since she had been so far away.
"His name is Paarthurnax, he's the Greybeard's mentor," she could see a hint of jealousy in Ralof blue eyes and while untying the chainmail at the nape of his neck she said, "He's impossibly old, you have nothing to fear."
Ralof felt his breath catch in his throat when she began pulling his heavy chainmail. While doing so, her hands were deftly caressing his abdomen and chest through the thin linen shirt he wore underneath. He felt goose bumps erupt on his skin when she lightly raked her nails on his sides, urging the offending piece of armour even upward. "Lift your arms", he heard her whisper against his lips. He complied, his questions momentarily forgotten, and helped her by bowing forward, allowing her to pull the chainmail of him. Without ceremony, she let the leather padded vest fall to the ground noisily and stepped toward him leaving a few hair of space between their bodies.
"Any more questions," she asked, kneeling in front of him and proceeding to untie his leather breeches. He managed to answer steadily despite the light caresses and heat "Yes, many." He could feel her breath on his exposed tented underwear as she lifted his right foot to remove his boot and had to brace himself against the rock wall. Her heat radiating through his clothes delicious on his skin and his mind was slowly going blank, where was the shy little woman he knew? He stood motionless, only lifting his left foot when he was motioned to, as he tried to organize a sentence. He finally managed to ask, "Were you hurt?"
"Finally!" she thought before answering in a sultry tone, still kneeling in front of him, her hands caressing his thighs, "I don't think so, but you could always make sure."
Looking at her like never before, he brought a hand to her jaw, lightly brushing her ear lobe on the process, and, motioning for her to stand up, captured her lips in a amorous kiss. It was neither desperate nor needy like the ones they shared months ago in Dawnstar; it was slow, loving and tender. At this very moment, Ralof felt something latch in place inside of him; somehow, he knew he could never feel more complete than he did holding Luthien. Calling on every thread of willpower he could muster, he interrupted the little grey hands travelling across his body and spoke in a hoarse voice, "Not like his, not here".
He could see a flash of fear and sorrow cross her delicate grey feature as she tried to back away from him.
"I'm sorry," she said, her eyes casted downward, "I thought…"
He interrupted her with a caress on her cheek, "You deserve more than this," he said looking around.
"I was too forward," she whispered with a strained voice, "I'm sorry".
He stopped her from bolting out of the room by hugging her tightly against him. He felt her stiffen and relax as he spoke calmly in her ear.
"I liked you forwardness little one, a lot, but I won't have you against a wall anymore". He cursed himself for being so poor with words and added, hoping to defuse the situation, "Maybe we could try the bed?"
He felt her nod her head against his chest and hugged her a little tighter while placing a kiss on her silky head.
They made it to the bedroom holding hands and when he started undressing her slowly, almost with reverence, he could feel her tensed beneath his hands. He tried to get her to relax with kissed and caresses but nothing seemed to work. "Luthien, we don't have to do anything if you don't want to," said Ralof. He had to admit, it would be painful to stop right there, but he would do everything to make her comfortable. He was quite alarmed to see tears roll from her white eyes and her small shoulders shake. Stripped of her armour she looked extremely vulnerable in the light linen tunic she wore underneath to prevent chaffing.
"Why are you so nice to me?" she said, her voice soft and broken.
He opened his mouth to answer, but she spoke before him, "It's the first time anyone had been so nice, so kind. I'm afraid," she admitted while looking at him with her tear-streaked face.
"Come here", he said while sitting on the edge of the bed with her, balled up, on his knees. Allowing her to burry her face in his chest, he rubbed soothing circles on her back until she stopped crying. She grew limp on him until, realizing she had fallen asleep, he laid her on the bed. His arousal had recessed as she started crying but he still craved her presence next to him. Being as silent as he could manage, he went back down in the hidden room and brought back his blue drape and bear cloak. He winced as the wardrobe door creaked on its hinges as he hid the best he could the access to the secret room. He, then, settled himself on the bed next to the sleeping elf and covered them both with his drape and cloak.
She woke up in what she assumed was the middle of the night. No noises came from the tavern and she could hear Orgnar snoring loudly from his bedroom. She could also feel Ralof's warm arm resting across her waist and his deep breath rustling the thin hair at the nape of her neck. Turning around as discreetly as she could manage, she found herself gazing at his visage. He looked so peaceful, she thought. Even though she knew he was most likely tired from his long journey to Riverwood, she could not suppress the urge to caress his face. When he slightly moved toward her hand, she recoiled. Was she really ready to face him again? Truly, she was scared. It was one thing to say you loved someone in the throes of passion, but to truly feel like you could not be entirely whole without one person was a terribly unsettling feeling. She knew she would never be able to call Ralof her own no matter how much she loved him and him her. He would eventually have to marry someone, possibly a Nord woman, to give Skyrim sons and daughters, and she was afraid of what would become of her. She would not bear to rob a woman from the love of her husband, therefore, she would have to leave and run as far away as she could. She would then be left broken, empty, far away in the eternal winter of Skyrim until she was slain by Alduin or one of his henchmen. Maybe she could sail to Solstheim and…
Her line of thought was broken when Ralof woke. Through his still sleep heavy eyes, he looked at her and smiled. As she nearly drowned in the blue of his eyes, she realized she was already too far in love with him to be able to go back now. Even if she ran, she could never fully recover. Somehow, she knew that thought should have unnerved her a lot more, but instead it brought her peace.
On the Imperial City Waterfront, if you were lucky enough to come in possession of, let say, a piece of fresh meat, you were faced with two choices; you either ate it all at once, or you ate only a part of it and hid the rest for the next day. The inhabitants of the Waterfront all learned very early that you, unfortunately, could never hide it well enough. Therefore, it was carved in everyone's mind that you enjoyed what you were lucky enough to have one day without making plans for the future. Present was the only sure thing and the future might not even come to pass. It was that simple. Which was why Luthien did not bolt when Ralof brought his hand to her face that night and caressed her with devotion. Why she helped him remove his linen shirt breaking the kiss they shared. Why she did not flinch when he straddled her and kissed his way up to her breasts as he slowly removed her own shirt. She would enjoy her time with him and think about the inevitable heartache when it hit her.
Ralof had honestly not planned on doing more than a little cuddling with his little elf when he caressed her that night. She had been so distressed a few hours before, he did not want to push her too fast too quick, but when she began rubbing his manhood through his leather pants and undressing him he retaliated with enthusiasm. He had never had the time to properly admire her body except from a few stolen glances in Helgen, which hardly counted as anything, so he took his time, despite the near ink black room, to discover the lithe woman beneath him. While removing her thin shirt and brassiere he kissed, licked and lightly nipped every landmark on the beautiful dark grey expense of her torso. He was careful to give special attention to the sensitive grey-purple nipples, rolling them delicately between his teeth and sucking at them until they were swollen and glistering with his saliva. Not having to be as silent as in Dawnstar, the Dunmer was letting small whimpers and pants as the blond Nord made his way, excruciatingly slowly, to her ears. She brought her hands to the edge of his breeches and undid the lace like earlier this evening. She, then pushed the leather attire down, freeing the impressive bulge that had began to grow in the man's pants. He groaned in relief as the restraining leather was removed and interrupted his exploration to completely free himself of the garment. He then delved back and nipped at the fleshy earlobe and sucked at it until Luthien let out a loud moan. She caressed his back, kneading the muscles until she reached the undergarment. Slipping her hand beneath it, she cupped the burning hot appendage and wrapped her fingers around it and rubbed the moisture she found at the tip around the head. She earned a throaty moan before her hand was removed. She could hardly see the blue in Ralof's eyes anymore as it was swallowed by the arousal dilated pupils. Kissing her once more on the lips, he lowered himself until his chin came to rest on her cloth-covered pubic bone. Their eyes met as he removed her last piece of clothing and gave a long lick on the hot flesh beneath. He heard her take a sharp breath as his tongue snaked over the delicate folds and flicked at the hard little nub of flesh. He held her down as she tried to lift her hips to increase the friction and continued his ministration. She arched her back and pulled roughly at his long hair when he slipped a finger inside of her. She was so warm and wet he almost stopped everything to plunge himself hilt deep in her inviting core. Hastily adding a second finger he felt her clamps around them at the intrusion as she bit her lower lip to muffle a high pitched cry. Feeling her relax, he curled his fingers upward and felt her go rigid underneath her.
"Let it go Luthien," he whispered, his lips grazing her sensitive folds.
"Ralof!" was the only thing she could mutter as pleasure took her.
His mouth resumed his action on her clitoris and his fingers rubbed relentlessly that spot inside of her until she stopped clenching around them and went limp on the bed. As she came back from the intense orgasm, Ralof removed his loincloth and lay besides her, caressing her side lovingly. He was a bit surprised when she rolled over him and straddled his hip but quickly ground his engorged member against her wet folds nonetheless.
"Luthien," he breathed, "please".
Bending forward to place a kiss on his lips, tasting herself on them, she lifted her hips and guided him to her entrance. They both moaned loudly as they became one. After adjusting to his girth, Luthien began to move slowly at first and faster as passion took them both. With Ralof's strong hands guiding her up and down she reached a second peak that night and bowed forward, muffling her cries against the crook of his neck. He came shortly after that, moaning her name in broken, barely discernable, syllables while holding her tightly against his chest. Sweaty and satisfied they fell asleep, limbs intertwined for the remainder of the night.
The next morning, Ralof left early, avoiding Orgnar's observant eye. He met Faendal who was coming back from his hunt and approached the man.
"You wrote the letter, right?" he said without proper greetings.
"I did", nodded the smaller man.
They knew each other since Ralof was no older than Frodnar, yet they had never spoken. Faendal was probably over seventy by the time Ralof was twenty yet he did not seem to age, which had unnerved the young Nord at the time. He knew now that Mer aged much slower than Men, yet knowing his interlocutor was probably in his eighty and still in his prime was slightly disturbing.
"Who is she," asked the Nord.
Despite the question being very imprecise, the Bosmer knew exactly to whom he was referring.
"Camilla Valerius," he said softly with a small smile.
Ralof nodded and they staid like this, facing each other silently, somehow understanding each other better than anyone else despite barely knowing each other.
Faendal broke the silence, "She's very young you know. I mean, very," he emphasized looking pointedly at the tall blond man. "And you are middle aged." Seeing the Nord was about to retort, he lifted his hand to silence him. "I don't blame you, you did not know and neither did she. She was, obviously, not raised by Mers. Which is why I have to tell you this. You have maybe forty, maybe fifty years to live. More likely much less, being a soldier. She might not know, but she has roughly two hundred and fifty years ahead of her… Be careful with her." He was walking away when he turned around and added, "And don't ever again touch her ears in public. It's incredibly rude."
Ralof walked around the village aimlessly, trying to make sense of everything Faendal had said. He could not quite wrap his mind around the little elf incredibly long life spawn. He had also been a little shaken by the way the Bosmer had insisted on the 'very young'. By Nord standards, she was a fully-grown woman, was it the same by Mer standards? He kicked a small rock angrily and finally settled to think that, if she was old enough to be out fighting dragons and risking her life for Skyrim, she was old enough to be with him. For the life spawn difference, he would have to talk to her, but this was a discussion for another day.
Luthien woke alone in the large bed. She was tucked in the covers, yet she felt strangely cold. She had wished Ralof would still be there, sleeping next to her, when she woke up. It hurt more than she would have thought. Even his blue drape and cape had disappeared. Sighing, she got out of bed and got dressed. She would have to get used to waking up alone if she wanted to keep seeing her Nord lover, she thought. She would not cause his untimely demise to satisfy her foolish dreams.
She knocked lightly on Gerdur's door and was greeted by Frodnar and his dog. He was, as always, very happy to see her as she always took some time to narrate her combats in great detail. Of course, he was not aware she cut the blood and gore out to fill it with glory and exaggeration and enjoyed her story-telling to no end. She noticed Ralof was already there, slowly tossing a steaming caldron of what smelled like meat and ale stew. Gerdur, friendly as ever, hugged her like a sister and sent her to cut various vegetables. Hod managed to shake her hand before being scolded by his wife for not paying attention to the boiling milk. After a lot of work, the dinner was finally ready and they all sat up to eat. Hod and Ralof started talking about the dragon menace and how it was making commerce increasingly difficult. Frodnar boasted about his feats of arms, notably a particular prank he played on a little girl a few days back while Gerdur entertained Luthien with small talk and various gossips. The elf could not remember ever feeling so relaxed and happy. He had never had a family diner before and, she thought, it was probably one of the best thing that had ever happened to her. Everyone talked, laughed and ate great food together. She was with the people she loved most in all of Skyrim and she could forget the dragon menace, the Greybeards, the Blades, the war, the Jarl… for the duration of the meal, she was entirely carefree.
Ralof still had a days left before he had to go back to Dawnstar. He had planned on going out for a walk with Luthien and maybe Frodnar if he wanted to come along. Maybe they could take his nephew hunting. With the ruckus he was sure to make, there was no way they would catch anything, but the boy would surely enjoy it. His plans were, how ever crushed when he heard a guard scream "Dragon!"
He barely had time to turn toward the guard before the large beast's claws caught the poor man. He heard Gerdur scream at Frodnar from the mill to hide but the boy was behind the inn, too far out to hear her and too mesmerized by the beast to react. He stood there, holding his wooden sword loosely as the scaled monster walked toward him. The Stormcloak officer was unsheathing his axe and running toward his nephew when he heard Luthien, standing next to him, shout. The next few things happened extremely fast, yet Ralof had the feeling time had stopped. The little elf, that was next to him an instant, almost materialised in front of Frodnar the next. Facing the dragon, she barely had the time to push the boy back before the monster's jaws closed around her midriff. She was then lifted from the ground as she screamed in agony and shaken from left to right in the sickening noise of breaking bones. The monster finally released her and her broken body landed gracelessly on the frozen ground. Ralof heard someone scream, but he did not recognise the voice. Later, he realized it was his. Armed with his iron axe, he charged at the beast with a fierce battle cry. He vaguely registered arrows flying beside his head and someone telling him to stand back, but nothing mattered anymore. The dragon had to die.
Faendal was chopping wood when he heard the guard scream. Instinctively, he dropped the axe and his hand went to his bow. He notched and arrow and aimed at the dragon. The dragon was relatively small with torn wings; he was probably one of the weakest one. He also had bronze like scales, which indicated he was probably immune to fire. Cursing, the Bosmer called frost to his hand. He was not a strong mage, but he could create a bit of ice. Wrapping his hand around an arrowhead, he concentrated of the frost energy. Once he opened his palm, he had an acceptable ice coated arrow laying in it. Notching it on his bow, he aimed at the beast. He saw in horror as the vicious monster caught his friend in his powerful jaw and threw her on the ground, broken, and most likely dead. He released his arrow and prepared another. He could not allow himself to care right now; it would only impede his ability to slay the beast. He saw the man, Ralof, charge at the dragon, a ridiculous axe in hand. He screamed at him to stand back, but the man could not hear him over his cry. He ordered the guards to aim at the wings, just like he had done with Luthien. Fortunately for them, the dragon already had damaged wings and could not lift itself in the air anymore. It roared in frustration as the frozen arrows pierced his thick scales and tried to snap his jaws at the screaming man attacking it but missed, the man had rolled to the ground. "He's going to get himself killed," thought Faendal. As if one fool was not enough, he saw Gerdur run toward the little boy weeping on the ground next to the Dunmer. The woman ran in the freezing stream and unsheathed a dagger as she came close to the dragon. Releasing another ice-coated arrow, Faendal saw her grab the little boy bodily and carry him in the safety of the nearest house. Her husband Hod, who was running from the forest to the village since the guard had screamed, finally arrived on the scene and ran toward his wife, shielding her from the monster with his body and pushing her inside the house with Frodnar despite her protest and vain attempts to escape him. After what seemed like an eternity, the dragon finally crashed to the ground with one last roar. The blood soaked Nord ran toward the broken body of his lover and kneeled beside her head. Faendal could hear the heart-tearing scream of the man as he saw the horrible state his lover was in.
Ralof could not believe his eyes. Luthien, his Luthien was covered in blood, open wounds tearing through her abdomen. He could see the blood flow from the wounds, but they were everywhere, he could not press on them all. He could hear his little elf wheezing and straining to breath despite the crushed ribs and blood filled lungs. He could see her opening her mouth, trying to breathe in more air, to no avail. She had tears streaking her face and her eyes were wide open in panic as she suffocated in her own blood. Ralof dared not grab her in his arms for fear it would increase her suffering so he settled for taking her hand in his.
Faendal had never been so relieved to see a dragon's remains combusting. It meant the Dragonborn was still alive; it meant there was still hope. On his way toward the fallen Mer, he stopped by Camilla's.
"I need all of your healing potion, now!" he screamed as he slammed the door open.
Lucan, Camilla's brother, started to object that he could not just hand over good produce freely until Faendal told him, hoisting him on his over his counter by the collar of his shirt, that the Dragonborn was dying. After that outburst from the normally calm and reserved man, Camilla handed him six small red vials despite her brother's vociferation and the hunter ran toward the fallen hero. He fell on his knees beside her while uncorking a vial.
"Luthien," he spoke, panic rising in his tone as the sight of her mangled body. "I need you to drink that", he said holding the vial to the blood covered lips. Tilting the vial, he poured a few drops of the crystal clear solution in her opened mouth.
She tried to cough, but her body could not and she opened her eyes even more as she felt the liquid pour in her trachea. She could hear Ralof telling Faendal that he was killing her, but the sounds seemed so far away; the pain was fading. Everything was too bright though, she tried to close her eyes to avoid the bright light but the was shaken back to the painful reality. She felt liquid being poured on her wounds; it hurt but not as much as the dragon's teeth. She tried to squirm away but found she could not move her legs anymore neither could she feel them.
"Drink Luthien," she heard again.
She shook her head, she could not breath properly; she was drowning in blood. Despite her protests, she felt two hands holding her head back, mouth open, while someone poured liquid down her throat. She tried to spit it out, but she was too weak. She tried to move her hands but they were too heavy. Everything was going dark around her, she could hear some more scream. Someone was shaking her and it hurt so much but she could not hold on anymore.
