I'm a sucker for posting immediately and this is the second part of the last chapter's story arc so it was killing me not to post.

All the reviews have been inspiring! I always say it and I always mean it, thank you so much for being the best readers ever.


Where One Lies 2.7

Galmar asked for volunteers from the refugees to be recaptured by the Imperials. All except four wanted to help the Stormcloaks infiltrate Fort Fellglow. Two of the older soldiers exchanged clothes with the refugees and blended into their midst. Galmar set all of them stumbling in the direction of the fort after mid-morning. It didn't take long before Imperial scouts spotted the refugees and recaptured them. By that time, the Stormcloaks split into two main forces. The fort was old and dilapidated. Its walls were crumbling in most places and there were two main points of attack from the north and the southwest gate.

"When do we go?" Brittany asked impatiently. She was between Santana and Quinn lying on the ground. Their weapons were drawn, their armor adjusted, cloaks removed, and their hair tied back in preparation for battle.

Quinn didn't point, but she indicated to the gate where guards were standing watch. "Our men on the inside will wait for an opportunity to create a distraction. It should be big enough to pull the Imperial's attention and then we charge."

"It's taking too long." Brittany picked at the leather around the shaft of her axe. "What if your men don't get free long enough to create a distraction? What if the Imperials decide they don't want to take in any more refugees and kill them?"

"Brittany…" Santana calmly said her name. "Karste wanted to go into the fort. He knows it's his only hope of freeing Alda. We have to trust the plan will work because it's the only one we have."

"They are good soldiers." Quinn simply stated. "It won't be long."

Santana added. "We just have to be patient."

Quinn said nothing, but her mouth quirked to the side as she gave Santana a questioning look. She never thought the word patient would come from Santana's lips.

Whatever possessed Santana to calm Brittany worked and the three of them settled into their positions. Every so often, Santana would nudge Brittany and point down to the fort to show her something. The Stormclaks were outnumbered two to one and the Imperials held the strategic high points on the ramparts with archers. Brittany understood that an unplanned Stormcloak attack would quickly be repelled.

At one point, the refugees entered the courtyard bound in chains and were led back into the barracks.

"They're still alive…"

Two hours later a thin pillar of smoke rose from the east barracks of the fort. The black line stood out against the cold afternoon and while it seemed quiet and harmless, the sight of the smoke rippled through the surrounding tree line like wildfire. All of the Stormcloaks in hiding were on alert. A strangled cry sounded from inside the fort followed by other wails. Brittany's heart jumped to her throat and Santana's body tensed. Only Quinn seemed unaffected by the fever of anticipation. She stoically stated. "They were good soldiers."

The guards at their posts all shifted uncomfortably, but it wasn't until a third shout echoed through the fort that they abandoned their posts.

"Fire!"

The smoke darkened dramatically and thickened. Flames erupted from what Santana had identified as the stables. If there was a place to start a fire, the Stormcloak infiltrators had done well. Horses were valuable for a mobile army like the Imperials had here. Horses were the difference between safety with allies and being overrun by a small force of Stormcloaks like the ones about to attack Fort Fellglow.

"Wait." Quinn held her hand down on Brittany's shoulder. "Wait for it or we'll lose all advantage."

"Where were they holding the refugees?" Brittany ignored Quinn's hand and turned to Santana.

"At the far side of the fort, inside the barracks." Santana answered, but frowned. "It's across the killing field and will be impossible to get there without moving together…" She saw the determination in Brittany's eyes. "Stay close to me, Dovekin."

Brittany said nothing. They held each other's gaze. Santana wanted to make Brittany swear they would stay together, but it was too late.

Quinn interrupted them with a hard tap to Brittany's shoulder. All three of them looked up as a lit arrow flew from the other side of the fort. She stood up with her drawn sword and restrapped her shield. "Remember we're taking the gate first then moving into the killing field. Our other forces will secure the northern wall. We will meet them to take the barracks together. MOVE!"

Santana grunted as she followed Quinn and Brittany from the trees and burst into the clearing. Her heart pounded and her hands flexed around the grips of her swords, but she was focused solely on the back of Brittany's head. Her Dovekin companion hadn't agreed to stay with her and honestly Brittany was running so quickly and effortlessly, she was posed on overtaking Quinn and the rest of the Stormcloaks. It was a struggle for Santana to keep close to her.

"We're under attack!"

Shouts from inside the fort echoed, but it was too late. The Stormcloaks charged toward the gate and scaled parts of the wall that had crumbled. The lack of guards on the walls and at the gate made it possible for half of the southwest Stormcloaks to breach the wall without a casualty.

Quinn reached the wall first. Without hesitation, she braced her backside against the stone, dropped her shield and sword to the ground then cupped her hands low against her body. Santana expected Brittany to be confused, but Brittany didn't break stride. If anything, she ran harder and aimed straight at Quinn. Her right boot popped into Quinn's hands for a half second, but that was all she needed as Quinn heaved Brittany's full body weight up. Brittany flew up the wall effortlessly. Santana didn't have time to admire either of her blonde companions before her own boot found Quinn's hand and Quinn launched her too.

Brittany's hand grasped hers and lifted her over the last part of the wall. Wordlessly, they both turned around and raised Quinn. Their coordinated moment ended abruptly as arrows flew by them.

A nearby Stormcloak took one through the throat.

"Archers! Get to cover! Move forward!" Galmar roared as he cleaved an Imperial's arm off and used his body to shield himself from four arrows aimed straight at him.

Quinn immediately took point with her raised shield. With her sword, she pointed to a nearby stack of crates. Brittany and Santana sprinted for cover and were immediately set upon by waiting Legionnaires. Santana took the first two with her swords while Brittany dealt with a third. By the time Quinn rejoined them, they had carved a small area behind cover from the archers. A barrage of arrows rained against their covering. Some of the arrows struck into the crates while others bounced off.

"Two archers on the east wall." Quinn stated and then noticed the advancing Imperials on their position. "Santana take out the archers. Brittany – "

Brittany panted on the other side of Santana. Her thoughts were scattered. Alda and Karste were somewhere toward the barracks, but they were pinned down. She had not expected Quinn to address her and certainly not by her name. She turned and saw the advancing Imperials.

" – cover us."

She nodded and lifted her axe as the first of them started to charge. Quinn watched Brittany's technique for only a moment before she decided to trust her. Quinn turned her back and broke from cover with her shield raised. She felt the brush of Santana's belt against her back and the supple wood of her bow bend as Santana drew and held three arrows in her hand. She lifted the first and fired. One of the archers dropped with a strangled cry. Behind them, Quinn listened for the sounds of approaching Imperials, but the only sound she heard was Brittany's axe meeting with steel again and again.

Santana dispatched of several more attackers and would have continued from their position when a great ball of magicka collided against the barrier next to them. It rocked them from their position, but they were not overrun. The rest of the southern forces joined them on the field and pushed their advance. Brittany, Quinn, and Santana rose from the ground and continued.

A great horn from the north sounded. The other half of the Stormcloak forces breached the far side of the fort and pressed the Imperials from the opposite direction. Imperial troops turned wide eyed to see the Stormcloaks attacking from all sides. Commanders instantly rallied to reestablish order over their troops. It took a few minutes for the Imperials to gather themselves, but suddenly the Stormcloaks were faced with two defending wedges. Any advantage they had gained from their blitz vanished, but they had evened the odds considerably.

The battle stretched through the old fort. Many of the Imperials called their home Skyrim, but had not taken Ulfric's call to the Stormcloak banner and the rest of Fort Fellglow's occupants were Skyrim warriors from Whiterun. They still believed in the power, integrity, and direction of the Empire. So as the Stormcloak fighters spread the Imperial ranks to isolate fighters and create advantages, the Imperials reverted to the ways of their fathers and mothers, they stripped their helmets and fought back without giving Galmar's soldiers the advantage. It shouldn't have been a long fight, but both sides were evenly matched and while the Imperials had held the high ground in the beginning, the Stormcloak's arrows dispatched their ranged support quickly. It was now a struggle of individual skills and little strategy.

Magicka crackled around the field as the three users were protected by a small force of Imperials. Their fire and bolts lit the field and ramparts with their power. Galmar bellowed and pointed his large battle axe in their direction. Valinna, Katrss, and a few other Stormcloaks immediately joined their shields together and started to advance on the users as a unit.

Santana didn't have to look for Quinn; she could feel her housecarl cutting a path to her. It was a sound Santana had come to expect in the middle of a battle, except she didn't feel comforted. Once again, she had lost sight of Brittany.

"Shit."

How did this keep happening? Santana scanned the field while avoiding a killing stroke to her midsection. Side-step. Parry. Riposte. Strike. She didn't think there was a word wall in this dilapidated fortress so what could Brittany possibly be doing?

A streak of blonde headed further into the fray. Brittany danced through troops swinging at and around her. She attacked no one and still somehow managed to create chaos in her path. She purposefully propelled herself from one solider into the next; leapt through skirmishes and left confusion in her wake. Brittany wasn't walking in a daze toward an unknown destination. Santana knew this time was different and it wasn't a word wall that drew Brittany through danger, but the desire to protect Alda, his grandfather, and the other refugees. She spotted a company of warriors who had just defeated a group of Stormcloaks ahead of Brittany. They spotted the blonde and started to advance.

Santana sheathed her swords and withdrew her bow.

Three arrows whistled through the courtyard. They outlined Brittany as she skipped through the battlefield. Each arrow caught an advancing Imperial before they could even make an attempt to swing at her.

As the last arrow founds its mark, Brittany half turned in midstride. Her bright blue eyes found Santana's worried expression from across the entire field. And for that brief second, Santana believed it would be okay. They would make it out. Brittany would find and protect Alda. They could leave the fort and return to Windhelm as heroes, as companions, as something more than how they started. She believed everything would work itself out – the war, the Dovahkiin, her father, Skyrim, and even Brittany. Everything was going to be okay.

But the shadow of death fell over the fort.

The sky darkened.

Swords stilled.

Bow strings went slack.

All the noise in the fort was deafened under the single whoosh of wings.

Every head turned up and mouths opened but they uttered no words for the Divine, no prayers to Talos, no petitions graced their lips; only the slightest of inhales as they witnessed a beast whose very existence was legend.

The shadow cleared the fort like the casual passing of a dark terrible foretelling. The tail that followed was a smaller, thinner shadow that whipped after. No one moved. It was as if they couldn't believe their eyes. A silence filled the fort and suffocated noise as the beast looped back and headed straight for the courtyard. Its nostrils flared and its dark eyes aimed for the heart of the battle.

The man closest to Santana, an Imperial, she had been about to kill, opened his mouth and shouted the word none dared to say.

"DRAGON!"

The most horrifying screech echoed from the beast and shattered any disbelief of its existence. Men and women, all warriors, scattered and screamed. No one fought each other; they all ran for cover as the dragon dropped its jaw.

No divine intervention could save them from ancient fury incarnate.

Fire overflowed from the dragon's mouth and poured into the courtyard. Huge clumps of molten heat smashed the northern ramparts and sent archers and stone tumbling from the walls. The decimated wall crashed onto the soldiers below, but it was far from the worst. The stream of fire grew hotter and closer as the dragon passed over the courtyard.

Quinn barely glanced to the sky above as she shot forward through the field and ran as quickly as she could. Warriors fled toward the direction she came from and bumped into her shoulders trying to escape.

"Santana!" The captain shouted in desperation. Her eyes went to the back of Santana's head then to the dragon flying straight for them. Quinn was a practical soldier, not a hopeful one, she knew limitations, she knew strategy, she knew that if she kept running, she would make it to Santana at the same time the dragon's breath did, it wouldn't be fast enough to save her.

But that didn't stop Quinn, she kept running.

They would burn together.

Quinn wrapped her arm around Santana's waist and yanked her back. At the same time, she raised the Bear of Windhelm as if that would stop them from burning and shut her eyes. Their bodies huddled beneath the shield as unimaginable heat and flame roared over them. Perspiration dripped from Quinn's nose and slicked her grip, but she grasped the shield as hard as she could.

The shield couldn't protect them; not from a dragon's fire. It wasn't her duty, but Santana she failed. Quinn held Santana close to her body and whispered. "I'm sorry."

But the flames never touched them. The temperature rose and they could feel fire spread around them, but not one lick of the dragon's fire touched Quinn's shield. And as quickly as they knew they would perish, the heat of the fire faded and the dragon's roar echoed further down the fort. Quinn loosened her grip around Santana's body in disbelief. They certainly should have been making their way to the afterlife, but they remained unscathed.

Santana's eyes were wild and mirrored Quinn's own disbelief that they were still alive.

"How-"

Standing only a few feet next to them was an Imperial magicka user holding his hands in the air. His brow dripped with sweat as he met Quinn's eyes. He dropped his hands in exhaustion and released the shield he had cast at the last minute to protect himself from the dragon's flames. It had been a small miracle that Quinn and Santana had been standing next to him as it had protected all three of them. Quinn could see that his magicka was completely depleted. She could easily dispatch him and move on. He must have come to the same conclusion because he tensed and eyed her Stormcloak armor and the sword in her hand.

Without his timely magicka, the dragon would have killed her and Santana. Quinn bowed her head in gratitude. "I owe you a blood debt, Imperial."

"Then let us pray we are still alive that I may collect it, Stormcloak."

The not-so-distant roar of the dragon brought them back to the urgency of their immediate situation. They exchanged nods and spilt into opposite directions. Quinn tried to pull Santana to rejoin the Stormcloaks at the entry of the fort, but Santana resisted.

"We must get to safety, Santana."

"I know." Santana agreed, but didn't turn with Quinn.

"We will be safer with the rest of the Stormcloaks, regather our forces, and we can make a plan to combat the dragon." Quinn urged her with a wary glance to the sky. It was getting harder to see through what had been a clear afternoon sky with the dark smoke rising from the fort.

"Brittany went this way."

Quinn's eyes hardened and flashed at Santana's statement. For a moment, Santana was certain Quinn would attempt to knock her out, throw her on her back, and forcibly carry her away from danger. Santana braced herself – ready to go toe to toe with her stubborn housecarl, but at the last moment, Quinn's eyes softened.

"Then we should find her."

Santana could hardly believe Quinn's response. "Thank you."


Brittany ran.

Stormcloak. Imperial. She didn't care about either side. The Stormcloaks had imprisoned Karste and sent him on a suicide mission. The Imperials kidnapped Alda, separated him from his family, and used him as leverage. She didn't care who took the fort, she didn't care about the war, or anything except doing one thing right.

Both sides of the fight were far too occupied to notice the lone woman sprint between their ranks. She moved with such fluidity that she could have been born of the wind and daughter to water.

She shouldn't have been surprised when three arrows flew by her, missing by inches, and cleared her pathway. Brittany's heart stopped and she felt compelled to turn. It was incredible that Santana had found her across the entire field and that with one look she made Brittany question her decisions. Through the death and chaos, Brittany's heart pounded with uncertainty and the undeniable truth that there was one Stormcloak she did care about.

But black wings blanketed the fort and she lost sight of Santana's eyes under the shadow of death.

Brittany's body trembled long before she dared to look up.

Fire poured over the ramparts and exploded against the wall closest to her. Brittany jumped for cover and immediately curled into a ball against a half wall and remained there.

Fire lined the walls and ate at the flooring. Sharp shrills cried out behind her. Brittany told herself it was the sound of wood and buildings falling, not cries for help. Her eyes filled with smoke and her lungs felt heavy. Her head was light and her limbs useless. She could feel heat encroaching and claiming territory around her.

Brittany ripped at the straps on the Stormcloak armor and tore at the cloak around her back until the seam split in half. She threw the armor and half of the cloak away from her body. The air was hot and suffocating and her heart felt like it would beat out of her chest. But it wasn't enough.

They broke through another failing wall and tumbled into what would have been a backstreet. Her arm and backside erupted in flames.

She struggled to free herself of the bracers on her arms and clutched at her backside with one hand while the other lifted her shirt. All she could feel was sweat and smooth skin. The lack of texture snapped her out of her panic. Brittany blinked hard and looked down at what should have been a bundle of awful scar tissue. Instead, she saw the slight discoloration of what could only be described as tongues of flame up the right side of her torso and wrapped around her back.

This wasn't Helgen.

She wasn't on fire. She repeated to herself. She wasn't on fire.

A piercing shriek from the sky, however, reminded her that there was in fact a dragon. She focused on breathing through her nose and stared down at the ground until the noises and the heat around her didn't over flood her senses.

After a moment of patient breathing, Brittany couldn't worry about the dragon, but she could worry about something else. Alda. She could still save him. Brittany stood up. The tattered remains of her Stormcloak colors were all that was left of her outfit. She still wore some light chainmail and leathers, but all she cared about was wielding her axe. She left the Stormcloak issued helmet on the ground and bolted in the direction of the barracks.

"Alda!" She didn't expect a response, but it gave her a rallying cry and kept her focused. "Alda!"

Soldiers shouted and yelled. They ran from the ramparts, eager to flee the walls, collided ran into each other as they tried to escape. The ones that were fortunate enough to be near the tree line fled to the woods. They jumped through windows and bolted doors on one another; all in an effort to hide from the dragon's view.

Brittany caught sight of some Imperials hacking at a door leading to the barracks with their swords. The cries of children caught her ears. Wings circled above them. A deafening roar followed by intense heat and a stream of fire hit the Imperials. Flames engulfed them. Their faces melted inside their helmets and their clothing caught on fire until they were nothing more than a smoldering ball of fire. Brittany swallowed hard and moved from her cover. The door was still relatively unharmed, but the nearby fire and the possibility of the entire fort going up in flames meant the children inside the barracks would perish.

There was no time to debate. She ran around the burning corpses and slammed her body against barracks door. It was jammed shut, but she could hear whimpering and crying from inside.

"Open the door!" She banged while glancing to the sky.

The dragon circled the fort. Its scales glinted and appeared impervious. Its teeth were as sharp as the bone protrusions from its head and joints. The leathery expanse of its wings outstretched as if to claim the whole of the sky while its fire consumed the land below. Men and women who weren't lucky enough to die from the dragon attacks wailed and struggled in unimaginable pain.

"No way!" A young voice shouted inside the barred door. "You and the rest of them can burn!"

Another young voice questioned. "But what if it comes for us next?"

"It can't. Keep the door barred." An older man answered.

"The Dovahkiin will come and save us. He'll fight the dragons! Just like the prophecies!" A boy's voice reassured them. The dragon was circling back.

"There's no Dovahkiin coming, fool boy!"

Brittany's heart jumped and she hit herself against the door. "Alda! Alda! It's me, Brittany! You have to open the door and let me in!"

"Brittany?" Karste's voice questioned. "Let her in. Join us! We are safer in here!"

"Trust me when I say you aren't. You need to leave before this whole place burns down. I've seen it before."

There was some talk amongst the occupants and after a few precious seconds, they removed the bar inside. The door opened and Karste stood with Alda. Two young girls clung to his tattered cloak. They buried their faces in the folds. Tears ran down Alda's eyes, yet Karste had found his backbone. He stood tall in the doorway and purposely didn't look to the sky.

"I am trusting you with the only family I have left."

"You must flee. It won't stop until it's torn the entire fort down." The dragon was attacking the southern end of the fort where most of the Stormcloaks were gathered. She glanced back inside the barracks door. "You should all flee while you have a chance."

A man shoved Karste and his grandchildren forward and barred the door behind them. A refugee shouted from inside. "We'll take out chances in here."

"Come on." Brittany picked up the smallest of the children after strapping her axe to her back. "We need to get you out of the fort and to the tree line."

"How do you know all of this?"

"It doesn't matter right now. Let's go!" Brittany ushered them through the chaos. Fire, bodies, and running soldiers bumped into them. She readjusted the crying child and sprinted harder toward the breach in the northern wall.

"Grandfather! What about the Dovahkiin!? Won't he save us?"

"Alda, keep running! We have to worry about ourselves."

Brittany flushed at the boy's question and looked back at the destruction behind them. The dragon was flying much lower. It spewed fire in the direction of the barracks against the door Brittany had just taken Alda and his family from. The ground shook beneath them and Brittany turned back to her destination. In Helgen, she had almost died from the fire. In Whiterun, she had witnessed an unparalleled display of huntsmanship from the Jarl's men to track the Helgen dragon down and kill it. Both times she had been useless. Both times she had almost died and had watched so many people die while she barely managed to stay alive.

They had it wrong. She was no Dovahkiin, no mythical warrior, she wasn't even a Stormcloak.

How was she supposed to fight against a dragon when she couldn't even control herself in the presence of a word wall?

Save Alda. Save his family. She could do that. She needed to do that.

The ground shook and the force of the impact sent all of them flying into the air. The dragon landed. Every step it took sent tremors through the ground. It wasn't far behind them.

"Keep running! Do not look back!" Her uncle urged.

"Keep running! Don't look back!" Brittany called out and pushed the little girl out of her hands to Karste. She winced and pulled on her magicka to heal her leg from the fall. She shoved Alda after his grandfather when he tried to help her up. "Go! I'm right there with you!"

She turned right as the dragon caught sight of them. Its dark eyes narrowed on her position.

It would be useless to even unsheathe her axe. She heard the children and Karste running away. At least they would be safe. She should have died so many times. She extended her arms and opened them to accept her fate.


"It's tearing the fort down, Santana. Our troops are scattered. The Imperials are broken and soon we will be too." Quinn caught sight of Galmar. Their commander had gathered a small force of Stormcloaks and they were cutting down Imperials trying to flee. Galmar seemed unconcerned with the dragon as long as he could continue to kill Legion soldiers. It was a breakdown of discipline and it would get them all killed. It would get Santana killed.

She grasped Santana's arm as the dragon landed. The ground beneath them shook and they clung to each other for balance.

And now there was a dragon between them and Brittany.

"She has the old man and his family." The dragon snapped at an unlucky Stormcloak and breathed fire toward a group of Imperial soldiers attempting to flee. "They aren't far from the northern breach. They can make it, but we have to leave now."

Santana hesitated against Quinn. Her eyes frantically searched through the smoke and fire. Brittany pushed at the children. The heat and smoke from the surrounding fires made her cough and sputter. The dragon's eyes were dark and glossy. The creature loomed and snapped its teeth. It was more fearsome than anything she imagined as a child. Artwork and carvings could only capture the shape of the beasts, not their horrifying reality. Every inch of the dragon's body was meant to kill. A shudder ran down Santana's back. Quinn was right. If they stayed, they would die.

"You're right, Quinn, we need to-" The dragon turned in Brittany's direction. Santana's heart stopped. Her knuckles went white around the hilts of her swords. She whispered under her breath. "Get out of there, Dovekin."

But Brittany opened her arms up.

"What is she doing?" Quinn stopped trying to pull Santana. "She's going to get herself killed."

"But…" Santana shook her head violently. "She can't. She's the Dovahkiin."

"She's the what?" Quinn repeated more from shock. She must have misheard Santana and was about to clarify when Santana sheathed her swords and drew her bow. "What are you doing, Santana?"

"Quinn, you should run now."

"What are you-" Quinn followed the sight of Santana's aim across the field.

"She can't die, Quinn." Santana never felt so strongly about something before in her life. She knew with every fiber of her being that if she didn't take this shot, she would regret it for the rest of her life.

Quinn must have seen the resignation and relentless determination in her companion's eyes. She said her name softly, but knew it wouldn't be enough. "Santana…"

"Quinn…" Santana loosed the arrow. "Run!"

It soared through the air, over the smoke and cries of anguish. It was an impossible shot, but Quinn knew Santana had learned from an impossible markswoman. She knew without following the flight of the arrow that it would find its mark.

A second later, the dragon reared up on two legs with a terrible roar. Its right wing collided with the ramparts behind it and sent half the wall crumbling. Fire bellowed from the dragon's mouth and nostrils into the air and formed a canopy of death. Even from this distance, Quinn could see the white fletching of Santana's arrow sticking from the dragon's right eye lid as it turned in their direction.

"Santana! What did you do?!" Quinn shouted, but it was too late.

Santana didn't care.

After the arrow struck its mark, Brittany turned to find the source of the distraction. Her bright blue eyes found Santana's worried expression from across the field. And for that brief second, Santana knew it wouldn't be okay. Brittany would make it out alive, but she wouldn't. Brittany would find and protect Alda's family. She would survive to fight another day, learn another Shout, eventually kill a dragon, and save Skyrim. Brittany would be more; she would rise above the war, the Jarls, Skryim, and have a chance to be the Dovahkiin. However, this would be Santana's last adventure, but she did not regret her choice.

Santana gave Brittany a soft nod before the shadow of death fell over her.

There was no sky, only the dragon's dark wings.

Quinn stepped in front of Santana, as she always did, and raised her shield; Santana notched another arrow and took aim.

The dragon rose to its full height and towered above them. This was it. It had been a long time since Santana offered a sincere prayer to the Divines, but she did pray to Talos that she would have a chance to fight alongside Quinn in Sovngarde and maybe when Brittany finished her journey as the Dovahkiin, they would meet again in the afterlife. The dragon's jaw dropped and advanced on their position.

But all the noise in the fort was deafened under a single whoosh of raw, unfettered power.

FUS!

Those closest to Brittany, fell back against the sheer power of her dragon Shout. The dragon's head snapped up and its eyes closed in confusion and shock more than pain. It hadn't expected to be forcibly attacked.

Every head turned toward the dragon and then to the source of the Shout, their mouths uttered no words for the Divines, no prayers to Talos, and no petitions graced their lips because standing in the middle of the battlefield in bloodied armor and untied blonde hair was the embodiment of their every prayer. A warrior whose existence was as unreal as the beast currently decimating them.

This time, it wasn't a terrified scream, but a whisper of disbelief from a young soldier. "Dovahkiin."

The dragon whipped around to find the source of the Shout. Its tail made a vicious swing through the courtyard and knocked over soldiers, including Quinn and Santana. They flew several feet away and hit the ground hard. Santana frantically chugged a potion from her belt to keep consciousness.

Santana could not believe what has just occurred. That was a dragon Shout! Brittany just Shouted to save her life.

Now the dragon would attack Brittany until one of them was dead. The potion healed minor injuries, but more importantly, it gave Santana the vigor to jump from the ground. She ran to Quinn and shoved the second half of the potion into Quinn's mouth.

The dragon's dark eyes were filled with more than destruction, the beast wanted vengeance. Brittany dodged a fire ball and hid behind a pillar. Santana had only seen Brittany take on a Deathlord. She couldn't imagine that Brittany could last long by herself against a full dragon. She needed all the help she could get. Santana knew there was only one way to save Brittany now. "Quinn. Gather as many soldiers as you can. We have to attack."

The captain's hazel eyes were furious. "You knew she was the Dovahkiin!"

"Not the time! Go!"

Quinn hesitated, but saw the dragon swipe at the pillar Brittany was using as cover. She shook her head in anger, but ran toward the last place she had seen Galmar and the Stormcloaks without further questioning Santana. Quinn quickly found them. They stood dumbfounded as they watched the dragon trying to kill the fleet footed blonde warrior.

FUS!

Another great Shout stunned the beast and rocked the ground. The dragon reared on its hind legs and roared in pain then crashed back to the ground even angrier than before. The shockwave threw them back down to the ground. When the tremors subsided, a few of the furthest Stormcloaks broke to run from the fort. Quinn grabbed the nearest woman by the scruff of her collar before she could flee and flung her toward the courtyard.

Quinn drew her sword and met the stare of her fellow soldiers and a few Imperials sprinkled into the crowd. Their eyes were frantic and unsure what to do or what the captain intended when she drew her blade.

"Do you not call yourselves Nords!?" Quinn called to them. "Are you not Skyrim's blood and bones? Do you not hold your weapons for fighting or for fleeing? Forget the color of your cloak and remember your grandmother's stories! Stand and fight, men and women of Skyrim! Stand and fight with the Dovahkiin!"

About half of them readjusted the grips on their swords and started to edge back toward the courtyard.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?" Galmar ran through the gathering with his axe raised and the remnants of his guard, seven warriors, toward the dragon. "A dragon's head will crown our High King's throne! FOR ULFRIC!"

"For Ulfric!" Most of the Stormcloaks rushed to follow their commander. "For the Dovahkiin!"

The Imperial magicka user who had saved Quinn and Santana during the first dragon attack stepped forward. "I may not be Stormcloak, but I am Nord. Today is a good day to meet my grandmother in Sovngard. I would cherish the look on her face when I tell her all of her stories about dragons were true."

The magicka user pointed to another adept and signaled to nearby pillars. "We will create barriers for protection for any warrior who will join us."

"I owe you yet another debt, Imperial."

"Then let us pray we are still alive that I may collect it, Stormcloak." The man sprinted to the pillars and fired dark magicka at the dragon's legs. "We are with you, Dovahkiin!"

The remnants of both armies formed a half circle around the dragon. Galmar and his guard struck at the dragon's tail before retreating behind the barriers of the Imperial magicka users. Most of the Stormcloaks drew their bows and shot at the beast from a distance. Their arrows bounced off its thick hide with no effect and the slashes from Galmar's weapons seemed to do nothing except agitate the beast.

Quinn rushed to find Santana in the madness they just tried to control. A few soldiers who were in the process of fleeing, turned back to join the skirmish. They rallied around the Dovahkiin's appearance. Their makeshift army stretched and wrapped around the dragon. It couldn't kill them all at the same time, but it was doing its damnedest to kill the Dovahkiin and kill other soldiers as many as possible. It flailed its tailed and haphazardly breathed fire at any who approached.

"Captain!" A familiar voice called from the ramparts.

Quinn looked up. It was Valinna with a few of her closest companions. They had found a stash of spears from the armory. The warrior next to Valinna hurled a spear with such deadly force that it pierced the dragon's thigh. Dark black blood spilled from its wound.

"Give this to Riften! She might need it!"

Quinn caught the spear and glanced to Santana on the other side of the ramparts. She had gathered a group of archers and they focused their fire at the dragon's head, aiming for the eyes. Quinn could either assist Santana or find Brittany. She gripped the spear and continued sprinting through the old fort.


Brittany didn't know what happened. She couldn't explain anything. She had been ready to die one moment and then she saw Santana make the same choice. When Brittany saw Santana's eyes and the dragon advance on her, an uncontrollable force erupted from Brittany's core. The next moment, she heard men and women yelling. The dragon's fire subsided as more shouting erupted around the fort. It wasn't panicked screaming, but coordinated shouts and orders. She was alive. Brittany pushed off the pillar she had been using for cover, but the dragon immediately spotted her.

FUS!

She Shouted and felt the word project through her body and slam into the dragon, but it was barely stunned by the attack. It opened its mouth and spewed fire. Brittany sprinted to the next spot of cover behind some of the fallen ramparts.

"NOW!" Santana yelled from above her. Arrows flew through the sky and struck at the underside of the dragon. It hollered in pain and stopped attacking Brittany long enough for her to get into a better position behind cover.

Brittany glanced over to see Santana flash Brittany a smirk before the Jarl's daughter scaled the misshapen battlements for a higher vantage point. She raised her bow and continued to issue commands to the archers on the walls. Brittany didn't have time to smile back, but her stomach untied for a brief second to know Santana had survived.

Emboldened by Santana's appearance and the assistance from the armies, Brittany stepped around her cover and shouted. "Fus!"

She tried again. "Fus!"

Except she didn't Shout. There was no power, no force, no awakened dragon language to back the word and hurt the dragon. The dragon saw her break from cover and immediately tried to swipe at her. Valinna noticed Brittany's exposed position. "Get back to cover, Riften!"

She hurled a spear into the dragon's open mouth. The point pierced the soft tissue of its jaw. It was just enough of a distraction for Brittany to bolt back into cover. Another fireball blasted into the rumble behind her and Brittany ducked low as debris scattered around her. What was that? Why couldn't she Shout? Brittany panted and closed her eyes. She could feel the Shout in her chest begging to be released, but it was like a dull throb as if she needed time to reenergize the power.

It was a familiar feeling like when she tried to use magicka too quickly without letting it replenish. Except when it was magicka, she needed to build up the power inside of her, the Shouts were different. She could feel power flowing from the ground beneath her and charged from the air around her. All of it connected and flowed through her body and into the core of her chest where she always felt the Words waiting. She just needed a little more time and then she would be able to Shout again.

She looked up. The dragon shot another fireball at Santana's archers. Several of them caught on fire before falling from the walls. Brittany turned her head as one landed a few feet away from her, but Santana was still climbing higher and higher. Brittany didn't know how she managed to climb and shoot at the same time, but she was incredible to watch.

The dragon must have noticed Santana's unbelievable ascent as well. It opened its mouth and spewed fire up the tower Santana scaled. She ducked into a window at the last moment to avoid the fire before she popped back out and continued to climb.

"Shit." Brittany stood up. "Run, Santana!"

"Get down." Quinn shoved Brittany hard back into cover and held the recruit to the stone with one arm, but she too looked up. The concern she held for Santana was painfully evident. "She's giving us time."

Brittany stopped struggling against Quinn. "Time for what?"

"For you to kill this thing."

"I don't know how!" Brittany struggled. "Every time I Shout it just gets angry at me. My Shouts aren't strong enough to do any real damage."

The dragon roared. They both peeked over their cover. Two more arrows were lodged in the dragon's right eye, but Santana's wasn't done. As the dragon's mouth opened, she shot another half dozen arrows inside its exposed mouth. The dragon howled in pain and snapped its jaw shut. Its eyes were dead set on Santana's position. It swiped at the tower and sent a cascade of stone. Santana gripped onto her position.

"It's going to bring the tower and her down with it!" Quinn hissed.

Brittany shut her eyes. She was almost ready for another Shout, but would it be enough? She opened her eyes and caught sight of the spear in Quinn's hand.

"How good are you at throwing that?"

Quinn twisted the shaft in her hand. "Better than most." It wasn't a boast, but a statement of fact.

"Could you aim for its mouth?"

Quinn didn't even have to turn and measure the distance, she just shook her head. "No. It's chest or wing? Yes, but it would be too far for even someone like Galmar, to hit its mouth with any force."

"But can you aim for it?" Brittany repeated.

Quinn's eyes narrowed. "Yes."

"The next time it roars, aim for the mouth."

"We only have one shot at this." Quinn's eyes darted to Santana still struggling above them and then to Valinna on the other wall. "Valinna! All spears throw on my orders!"

Quinn waited till Santana fired another arrow. This one caught the corner of the beast's eye.

"Now!"

Valinna and the Stormcloaks unleased a volley of arrows and spears at the dragon. The dragon whipped around and dropped its jaw and spewed fire over the ramparts in retaliation. Brittany caught sight of Valinna bathed in fire and yelling a Stormcloak war cry that Brittany didn't recognize. Her throat constricted knowing Valinna couldn't have survived such an attack, but there was no time to dwell on her fate.

Quinn pushed off from their cover and hurled the spear toward the dragon. At the same time, Brittany came around behind her and Shouted.

FUS!

The Shout sent Quinn flying forward, but it also caught the back end of the spear. The power from the Shout propelled the spear through the air at an incredible speed. It whistled through the air faster than anything else they had thrown at the dragon. Quinn's aim proved true as the projectile found the inside of the dragon's mouth and went straight through the soft tissue until the spear tip poked out the top of its boney head. The dragon froze. Quinn heard a strangled cry behind her, but she couldn't look back, she was captivated by the scene before her. The whole of the fort hushed and sucked in a collective breath.

The dragon's eyes rolled into the back of its head and its neck went slack right before the giant creature started to collapse. Men and women ran for safety to avoid being trapped under its body. It hit the ground with a tremendous crash. The entire fort shook, smoke, and dust erupted and formed a thick cloud around the body of the beast.

Quinn covered her eyes and coughed, but she lost sight of Brittany.

She and the surrounding Stormcloaks and Imperials inched closer to the still body of the dragon.

But Brittany didn't need to see. She could feel. It was all she could do. She knew the exact moment the dragon died even before it even hit the ground. She knew because she could feel the dragon's soul the second it was freed. Even as it fell, Brittany could feel the soul tugging and pulling her forward. The cloud of dust shimmered as she neared the dragon's head. Its scales were slick with blood and shafts of Santana's arrows were lodged in its eyes. There were gashes in the armor plating of the scales and she could see the tip of the spear protruding from its skull.

It wasn't dead.

It was waiting.

She could feel the dragon's soul beating against the beast's still chest. It thumped against flesh and bone and heated marrow and swirled inside its cooling blood. It was alive and it was waiting. Brittany felt it in every fiber of her being. The last time, she hadn't been so present. She didn't know the dragon had been killed. She didn't know its soul had been waiting for her. This time, she could see the glowing aura and power.

She reached out.

Her finger tips brushed the scales of the dragon's neck.

Her eyes widened and even though she knew it was coming, it did little to prepare her to absorb another dragon's soul.

The world erupted in light.


The moment the dragon hit the ground, Santana knew she had to vacate the tower and get to Brittany. Everyone was still stunned or slowly moving toward the dragon's body, but Santana sprinted. The last time she had seen Brittany or Quinn, they had been right beneath the beast. She pushed through the crowd circling around the dragon. The dust was finally beginning to thin when a brilliant flash of light blinded her.

Santana blinked hard and squinted through the light and dust.

Brittany stood in front the dragon with her hand outstretched. Even from here Santana could see Brittany was swaying and barely able to stand. Lights of every color swirled around her hand and wrapped around her body. Her blonde hair seemed to be spun of golden hues and her eyes were focused intently on the dragon's scales except they weren't scales any more. They were dark flakes rising in the air. The dragon's body was burning either by Brittany's power or something else. The massive beast which filled the courtyard disintegrated into nothing but black flecks and then even they were gone. All that remained was Brittany and a pile of dragon ash.

Silence.

No one moved.

Not a cheer of victory or a shout of triumph.

Just silence.

Santana took the first step forward. The sound of her boots on the dirt started a chain reaction. Stormcloaks and Imperials nervously glanced at one another unsure if they should continue fighting or if the fight was over. Most, however, continued to stare in awe at Brittany. Galmar shoved himself through the crowd. His beard and bear pelt were covered in blood, but he appeared relatively unharmed.

"Kill any Imperial who does not surrender. Imprison them with the refugees. Collect what bones you can from the dragon to take back to High King Ulfric. And you –" He pointed his axe at Brittany. "-drop your axe and surrender peacefully to the Stormcloaks and submit yourself to an audience with King Ulfric back at Windhelm."

The Stormcloaks rounding up Imperials paused and edged at their weapons. Their eyes anxiously glanced from the woman who had Shouted a spear through the throat of a dragon to their commander. Could they really attack the Dovahkiin if Galmar commanded it? Would he command it?

"Drop your weapon." He growled as if to show his troops that he didn't care if Brittany was the Dovahkiin, the Emperor, or the second coming of Talos.

Brittany turned to face him. Everyone except Galmar took a step back. Her eyes still glowed with the dragon soul, but it was as if she couldn't see him clearly. Santana took another step forward. She could see Brittany was struggling to remain conscious, but the axe in her hand dropped to the ground. Galmar immediately untied a piece of cloth from his belt and wrapped it around her mouth as a gag. Santana shot forward to stop him, but Quinn gripped her forearm and held her in place. Another Stormcloak bound Brittany's hands behind her back and pushed her through the crowd.

"What are you standing there gawking for? Tend to the wounded. Bury the dead. We make camp outside these walls." Galmar barked.


The Stormcloak camp differed greatly in victory tonight than it had done against the Imperial army at Korvanjund. There was no laughter. Their forces were only a third of what they had been and half of those who survived were nursing crippling wounds and burns. The campfires were small and spread out. The cries of wounded soldiers filled the night air followed by muffled moans of pain. Bread and other supplies were passed around sparingly. Stormcloaks kept their heads low and their conversations short. Their prisoners were even quieter.

Santana sat quietly on her bedroll at the edge of camp. She had sectioned herself away from the rest of the soldiers and no one questioned her decision. After all, it was Brittany, the woman she had vouched for, who was the Dovahkiin. Whether Santana knew Brittany had been Dovahkiin before didn't matter, it only mattered that the Stormcloaks deliver the Dovahkiin to Ulfric. They would not release Brittany a second time.

Brittany's presence changed everything.

Every person– Imperial, Stormcloak, or refugee – kept glancing to the tent situated away from the rest of camp where Galmar had imprisoned the Dovahkiin, except for Santana. Her eyes were hard and focused on everything and everyone else. Galmar and his officers had taken a different tent at the opposite side of the camp as if to prove that he didn't care about the presence of the Dovahkiin.

Santana knew the truth. She could only imagine that Galmar considered Brittany a greater prize than dragon bones and even the high king's crown from Korvanjund. Possession of the Dovahkiin could turn the tides of battle much like Brittany had done against the dragon. Besides battle, if her father could claim the Dovahkiin's allegiance, other jarls would be more likely to join him against the Imperials.

Santana didn't eat or drink with the Stormcloaks. She remained still and watched Galmar's tent, the sentries, and her fellow soldiers.

Only once did Quinn exit Galmar's tent. Their eyes met and held for longer than usual. Santana knew Quinn only hesitated because she was unsure of everything – Brittany, Santana, Galmar, the dragons, and what the Stormcloaks were going to do.

They had spent a lifetime together and shared everything and that was why Santana chose not to reveal anything to Quinn in that one look. She guarded herself completely from Quinn. The stonefaced captain shifted uncomfortably as she recognized Santana's desire to be alone and after a moment of uneasiness, Quinn eventually returned to the meeting.

Santana sat in silence and waited and watched.

The campfires dimmed. The already quiet camp grew silent in the darkness of night. The clouds obscured the light of the stars and blocked out the two moons. Santana finally rose and made as little noise as possible before she slipped into the woods behind her pack. It was almost too easy to sneak up on the Stormcloak guarding Brittany's tent. She took him down without effort and dragged his body into the tree line before she entered the tent from the backside.

The tent was sparsely decorated. In fact, it only housed one thing – a stake pegged into the ground with rope tied in several knots through a ring. Attached to that rope was the bound and gagged Brittany. They had removed the trappings of her Stormcloak armor and stripped her down to only pants, fur, and an undershirt. She still bore the ashes from fire and cuts that hadn't been cleaned or bandaged from the fighting. Her blonde hair was disheveled and stuck to parts of her face. Her bright blue eyes looked surprised to see Santana's entrance and her sunken body posture immediately changed as Brittany struggled against the rope, but didn't get anywhere. She made a muffled sound of either excitement or anger, but the gag prevented Santana from comprehending.

"Stop moving and keep quiet." Santana whispered as she tied the tent flaps back together so no one would be able to peer in. She started to withdraw the knife from her belt, but instantly resheathed it and approached Brittany with open hands. Brittany's eyes widened and she finally stopped struggling when Santana knelt in front of her. Santana swallowed hard to see Brittany imprisoned again. She reached out. Brittany didn't move even as Santana's fingers fumbled over the cloth before she finally undid the knot and released Brittany from the gag.

Brittany took a great gulp of air as the cloth fell, but lost it the moment she felt the back of Santana's knuckles brush against her jawbone. Santana's other hand pushed back some of her hair and it was like she was gagged once more. She felt powerless and breathless against Santana's eyes and the tender touch of her warm hand.

"Hey, Dovekin…" Santana said with some apprehension. It was her father's men who recaptured her and Santana would understand if Brittany blamed Santana for her current situation.

However, Brittany's voice was soft and full of a gamut of emotions, surprisingly none of them angry. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Santana withdrew her hands from Brittany's face and slashed through the ropes connected to the post in the ground. "We're leaving."

"But what about the Stormcloaks and your father? We? You're coming with me?"

Santana carefully picked up Brittany's bound wrists and noted that she had already started cutting her way through the rope. Santana didn't bother to hide her pride that Brittany had been trying to escape. However, Santana didn't comment as she sawed the rest of the way through the knots. "He will only use you for his war. You can't stay here, Brittany, and that means I can't stay here. We're leaving right now."

The last of the rope gave way and Brittany flexed her wrists in freedom. They stood up together.

"But your father…"

"It doesn't matter." Santana walked to the back of the tent and rummaged through a pile of Brittany's gear. "We can't leave through the front of the tent. I have our gear in the tree line. Light is sparse tonight so Galmar's scouts will have a hard time following if we move quickly. Don't worry abou-"

Brittany hadn't spoken for a while. The hair on the back of Santana's neck rose.

Her training and years of experience kicked in. Santana rose swiftly and withdrew both of her blades at the same time to face whoever else had entered the tent. Both swords were prepared to strike.

But the moment she turned around, her swords stilled and her heart sank.

Quinn held a sword to Brittany's throat. Her hazel eyes were dark, serious, and only for Santana. Brittany lifted her chin as high as possible to avoid the sharp edge pressed against her neck, but it only exposed her more. Quinn grabbed and forcibly wrenched Brittany's left arm behind her back to keep her from resisting. Brittany instantly stilled, but her eyes frantically searched for Santana.

"Quinn…" Santana didn't lower her swords, but her voice dropped and she whispered fiercely. "Please don't do this."

The captain spoke through gritted teeth with more pain than anger. "What are you doing?"

"This is what's right." Santana's swords waived as if she was willing herself to keep them up against Quinn, but it was hard. "We can't stay here. You know that."

"This is treason!"

"Treason?" Santana rolled her eyes as if the word only applied to a world only people like her father and Quinn lived. "Quinn, you have to let us go!"

When the housecarl didn't move, Santana took a step forward. Quinn swallowed hard and readjusted her grip on Brittany. The sword moved a fraction higher as if to threaten Brittany's life. However, Santana immediately sheathed her swords and held her hands up. She couldn't continue with the charade that she would ever try to harm Quinn, as she knew that Quinn would never attack her. It was foolish to continue holding a weapon she would never use against her best friend.

With tenderness, Santana whispered. "You have to let me go, Quinn."

Quinn shook her head violently and completely forgot Brittany's presence. "You know I can't do that."

Brittany remained still. Quinn's sword pressed to her neck. Even a breath of air taken at the wrong time could end her life. She looked between Santana and Quinn unsure if the captain would finally follow through on her threat in Windhelm to deliver her head to the jarl. The conversation between the two warriors echoed the words from Santana's chambers.

"You have to let us go, Quinn. You saw her. You saw what she is."

Again, Quinn ignored the mention of the other woman in the room, but she nodded. It was hard to forget the rush of power Brittany had exhibited during the dragon attack. It was hard to forget that without the dragon Shout, Santana could have died at the fort, but leaving in the middle of the night wasn't the way to address Brittany's power as the Dovahkiin. There were protocols and a chain of command.

"Then we take her back to Windhelm; back to your father and he can decide what is best."

"She can stop this. She's supposed to stop all of this – " Santana was still shaking as she remembered the scales and the powerful gusts of wind created by the dragon's wings. She saw Valinna's face as her whole body was consumed by fire. "My father survived an attack worse than this at Helgen and yet he still wages his war. He made no mention of the dragon in his war room. He cares for only one thing." Santana steeled herself with the same conviction that she had felt since meeting Brittany. "Quinn, I have to do this. I know it. I feel it. I've never stayed with anything for very long – the Companions, the Stormcloaks, even the city guard. I've spent as much time as I could outside of Windhelm – maybe it's because this is what I was meant to do. I feel drawn to her, Quinn, like I was supposed to find her in the crypt, that those thieves stole the claw so that I would chase after them. I can't explain it, but I know I have to go with her."

The entire time Santana spoke, Quinn showed resolute obstinacy until Santana's final words. Quinn was always the one who questioned Santana's desire to be part of something. Now Santana expressed beyond any doubt a calling that she felt so deeply she was willing to throw away even her namesake to follow. It was everything Quinn had ever wanted for Santana – just not this way. It couldn't be this way. Quinn's fierce determination softened until she was just shaking her head. She couldn't refute anything. She just kept shaking her head.

Her weak whisper was a final attempt at defiance. "No."

"I'm leaving."

"You were going to leave without telling me?"

Santana saw the pain in Quinn's question. "If I left while you were with Galmar, no one could say you were my accomplice. You would be blameless. I would bear the only stain to anyone's honor."

The statement was the final blow when Quinn realized the reason Santana had cut her out of her plans. It was hard to believe that even after all this time that Santana thought Quinn's honor could somehow be separated from her. Santana was her honor. "It's too late for that now so I am coming with you."

This time it was Santana who shook her head. "You can't. I need you to stay here. I need you to stay in Windhelm with my father. He will never understand and I need someone I can trust when I return." Santana could see Quinn already preparing to argue with her. "I need you there, Quinn, as a sign of my good faith, a sign of my loyalty, as my voice, because without you, I could never come back. They will see this as desertion and, yes, treason."

Santana could see Quinn trying to find a way to argue against her logic. She was desperate to grasp at any excuse to refute Santana's request. But eventually, Quinn dropped her head and finally, her sword in acquiescence. The sharp edge against Brittany's neck released without leaving a red line of blood like the last time Quinn had caught Brittany in a vulnerable position.

Brittany didn't have time to relax or even put a hand to her neck before Quinn turned into Brittany's body and grasped the collar of her stained shirt. She pulled Brittany tight against her until their chests pressed together. Santana took a step forward to defend Brittany, but Quinn's eyes checked her back.

Brittany didn't struggle in Quinn's hands. There was no violence in the captain's hazel eyes, just bewilderment. Brittany could see Quinn trying to reconcile with herself and justify her decision to abandon Santana. The harsh smell of ash and fire lingered on the captain's clothes. Brittany knew the same remnants of the dragon's devastating attack remained on her clothes and hair as well.

Dragons, civil war, and a Dovahkiin – how could one keep control with these circumstances? It was an unfamiliar feeling for the captain.

"You –chamber thief!" Quinn's voice broke as she spat the title, but it wasn't enough. There was no weight, no honor, nothing to hold a thief. For the first time, Quinn named Brittany something else; something more. "Dovahkiin, Brittany, daughter of Riften, daughter of Pierce, however you name yourself, do you remember what I told you of oaths?"

Brittany clearly remembered their moment outside Windhelm. "I do."

"Then will you give me your oath to protect her? Her life for yours? Stand in front of an arrow? Would you block a sword with only your bare chest or stand before a troll to protect her? Would you value her life abo-"

"Quinn!" Santana shot forward and grasped onto Quinn's forearm. A pain in her chest that had nothing to do with the physical exhaustion of the day broke within Santana to hear the desperation in Quinn's voice. She tried to reach out, but Quinn ignored Santana's tug and tightened her grip on Brittany's collar.

Brittany used the distraction to place her right hand firmly over Quinn's. Her clear blue eyes met Quinn's intense stare. Without looking at Santana, Brittany spoke directly to the distraught captain. She lowered her voice and repeated Quinn's words from the courtyard.

"I pray to Talos, when you do make an oath, chamber thief, it is for a cause so worthy that it ignites your blood and stays in your bones. Never give one lightly. They aren't easy to take back."

"Is she worthy enough? Does she ignite my blood and stay in my bones?"

Quinn hadn't expected Brittany to remember and repeat her words verbatim. The moment stunned her. Brittany's clarity of voice and conviction took Quinn aback. Her hand loosened on the other warrior's shirt.

Even though Quinn was surprised, it was Santana whose breathing hitched. Anticipation filled the air. Her heart skipped as she turned to Brittany for clarity. Santana couldn't remember the last time anyone had looked at her that way; a shudder ran through her body. Brittany's answer was clear without stating it out loud.

Yes.

Quinn gripped Brittany's collar once more. "Do I have your oath, Dovahkiin?" This time the title was more respectful. It carried weight to a housecarl, a Stormcloak, a captain. It was something Quinn could understand – a title bound in blood and strengthened in character.

Brittany's heart beat so fast she could barely hear herself think, but there was no question. It had been Santana who sparked the Shout inside her in the crypt and again against the dragon. It had been Santana who stepped out against the Stormcloak archers and protected Karste from Galmar. More than anything Santana had done, it was the way Brittany couldn't ignore the way being near Santana set her aflame with a heat very different than dragon's fire.

Without hesitation, Brittany answered the captain. "By blood and honor."

The words were like a great pressure release. Quinn removed her hands from Brittany's collar and exhaled a shaky breath, but she wasn't done.

"You are bound by blood and honor, Dovahkiin. May Talos and all the Divines have pity on you if I find you are unworthy." Quinn moved back and nodded her head toward the back of the tent. "Cut a hole into the back of the tent now and leave. I won't raise an alarm. I will be releasing some of the prisoners and refugees after I know you've been given enough time to leave. You won't be the only ones making an escape tonight."

"Why?" Santana asked.

"I owe a blood debt to one of the Imperial mages and I always honor my debts. Their escape will hopefully keep anyone Galmar sends on your trail distracted long enough for you both to disappear. Now go."

Brittany instinctively glanced to Santana first. Quinn saw the hesitation and added. "Santana will join you shortly."

Santana gave Brittany a small nod to confirm that she would be there soon. Brittany didn't need to be told twice. She gathered her belongings from the pile Santana had been digging through. She tossed her chainmail over her arm and strapped her axe to her back. Without a cloak it would be cold, but the comfort of freedom would hopefully keep her warm. She took the knife from Santana's hand, cut a straight line through the tent, and stepped outside.

The moment Brittany cut the tent, Santana approached her housecarl. "What was that, Quinn?"

"It was me keeping you safe!" Quinn's voice mirrored the same volume as Santana's.

"How dare you force her to make some kind of mad pledge to protect me!" Santana spat as loud as she dared. Stormcloak tents and bedrolls were all around them. It would be foolish to get caught because she couldn't control her emotions.

"Mad pledge? Is that what you're calling it?" Quinn met Santana's ferocity with her own.

Quinn's angered posturing only further revealed the pain Santana's words had caused her.

"That's not what I meant." Santana bit her lip and instantly regretted her words. "I just -I don't need it."

"But I do." Quinn finished. "I need you to be safe and this is the only way I know how to do it."

Brittany could hear them arguing or probably what they considered talking. She lingered at the edge of the tent where she could see, but not distract them. Santana was shaking her head at Quinn as if she had a thousand words for her housecarl, but no words followed. Despite the horrors they had just survived and witnessed, the fierce care Quinn and Santana held for one another tugged at Brittany's stomach. She remembered her own last good-bye to family. It had been similar. Brittany swallowed hard to push down memories of when she had parted with her uncle.

"You better stay safe." Quinn tried to fill in the silence. "I will already have to answer to the Jarl for allowing you to leave."

"You only have to answer to yourself."

"Then I pray I made the right choice."

Brittany held the flap of the tent, but stopped herself from pulling it back for Santana to exit. She heard Santana say Quinn's name one more time before Santana cupped Quinn's chin and pressed a soft kiss to her housecarl's cheek. Quinn's face was purposely unreadable, but her body language told a different tale. Brittany felt sorry for the captain. Despite Quinn's stony stare, it was evident to Brittany that it took all of her strength to let Santana go.

After the dragon's fire had burnt their spirit, this single act of tenderness between these two warriors felt like a welcomed salve. Even if Brittany wasn't the recipient, it soothed some of the pain they had all just experienced. Before she could witness any more, Brittany quietly walked away to the edge of the treeline to wait for Santana.

Too recently Brittany had said good-bye to family. She knew the pain of an uncertain farewell. In a way, witnessing Quinn and Santana was too real and raw; it made her realize how much she missed her own family. Parting with her uncle had been so swift and abrupt; she only had his word that he would take care of everything while she journeyed to High Hrograth as the Dovahkiin. Brittany didn't even know what happened to her father or if her uncle kept his word.

A few minutes later, Santana exited the tent and led Brittany through the trees where she had stowed packs with their belongings. Brittany's pack was considerably lighter. "No horses?"

"They're easier to track."

Brittany nodded, but she could hear the strain in her companion's voice.

"We don't have much time once they discover you're missing. Follow me as quickly and quietly as possible." Santana shouldered her pack and headed into the trees without even a glance back to the Stormcloak camp.

Brittany didn't know how long they travelled, how far, or even in what direction. They never saw or heard a Stormcloak so Brittany assumed they were too occupied with the escaped refugees to realize Brittany and Santana had snuck away. Santana's pace was relentless until they finally stopped at a small rock cropping.

They were quiet. They had been quiet. Santana didn't light a fire. She said the reason was to keep them free of scouts who would be looking for them. But they both knew the real reason the space between remained barren. The dragon's attack was too recent.

The memory of fire burned in the absence of a real fire between them.

Santana looked up and caught Brittany's eyes for a second. It wasn't new memories that haunted her companion, but older ones. Santana had seen that look only once before – in a moment of weakness from the strongest man she knew, her father. Brittany's head hung low and her eyes clouded. Her breathing slowed and only skimmed the insides of her lungs. Santana wondered if she had the same expression on her own face.

Understanding rushed through Santana's thoughts. Inaudibly, as if she knew the weight of the question on her companion, Santana asked. "How did you survive Helgen?"

Helgen.

Without a fire between them, flames combatted against the blue in Brittany's eyes. They fanned to life memories and resuscitated the dead.

"I didn't." Brittany said quietly; even softer. "I shouldn't have."

Santana didn't ask for more. She glanced to the sky, but the stars were still hidden. The silence stretched, but neither of them said a word. Neither of them wanted to admit they were waiting for Quinn to assign watch assignments. Instead, they both sat in silence.

Tomorrow everything would change.

But tonight, they both wanted to pretend it would all be okay. It was a small lie, but one they held dearly.


End: Where One Lies

Next Quest: 3.0 Schema Skooma Prequel