"The wide world is all about you: you can fence yourselves in, but you cannot forever fence it out ."
-J.R.R. Tolkien
There was a steady pattern of rain that fell on the travellers as they settled down to rest. Already they had been making their trek since dawn, and there was still a perilous climb ahead. Drops of thick and cold water fell down from the rocky overhang that served as their roof for the night.
Eira drove out the biting chill by lighting a fire, using her little knowledge of magick to get it going. Lydia sat on a stump, cleaning out her wooden pipe. Kujo had gone out to scout ahead and was nowhere to be seen.
Boromir held Lucia close to him as she played with the hair on her doll.
He looked into the fire, the red embers dancing up and down. He then looked up and saw that Eira was looking out past the trees where the lights in the sky had finally begun to awaken from their daytime slumber.
"We didn't have this in Elsweyr." Eira said suddenly, breaking the stagnant silence, "It was too far to the south."
Lucia perked up, "Was it warm?"
Eira chuckled, "A little too warm, I think."
"Might be a nice change of pace." Boromir added, looking down at Lucia.
Lydia and Eira exchanged glances.
"Imperials." Lydia shrugged, making Eira laugh.
"He's not an Imperial. He's Gondorian." Lucia crinkled her nose.
"A what?" Lydia asked.
"Lucia-" Boromir started.
"That's where he's from. Gondor." Lucia cut him off, her amazement at the notion of places unknown to Tamriel spread on her face.
"I've never heard of it." Lydia raised her brow.
Boromir sighed, "It...it isn't important…"
"Of course it is," Eira stopped him, "Everyone has a place they call home. Only a fool says otherwise."
Lucia looked up at Boromir, "What's it like?"
Boromir hesitated, unsure of how to describe a place with indescribable beauty. He sighed.
"My home is far across the sea," He decided, "Far inland there are the Misty Mountains, and then further on there is Rohan. To the south is Gondor. My city, Minas Tirith, is made of white stone. It is built into the mountain, jutting outward in a great circle. The walls are high and thick, and many tiers of the city lead up to the Citadel."
"It sounds very grandiose." Lydia said.
"Extremely," Boromir agreed, "It is the city of many great kings." He stopped himself, his heart panging for a homeland that now seemed to be made up in a dream.
As if sensing his unease, Lucia was the one to change the subject.
"Eira," She sat up, "You said everyone has a place they call home?"
Eira hesitated, her eyes shifting between Lucia and Boromir.
"I did." She said curtly.
"Well...where is home for you?" Lucia asked.
Eira considered Lucia's natural childlike curiosity and didn't bite back with a usual sarcastic retort. She could see that Lydia had also taken a keen interest in Lucia's question. She cleared her throat and rubbed her nose with a tattooed finger.
"Well, I suppose I would say Skyrim is my home." She answered.
"Yes, but where." Lucia pried, "You grew up somewhere."
"That I did, sweet thing," Eira answered, "I spent the few years I had here living in my parents' homestead. And if a place is what you seek from me, I lived on the outskirts of Dawnstar."
"Have you been back?" Lucia asked.
Eria groaned, "No." She kept her composure, "No, I haven't."
"Why?"
"Lucia…" Boromir sighed.
"But don't you miss your family?" Lucia asked. She cocked her head to the side, wondering why Eira was so reluctant to go back home.
Eira cleared her throat, "I do." She nodded, "But it's been a long time. Best to leave things like they are."
"Well, if I were them I would want to know you're okay." Lucia frowned, then she perked up again, "I could go with you!"
"Don't you have a bedtime or something?" Eira snapped, her hands flung up as she stood and stormed off.
There was a harsh silence. Boromir could feel Lucia growing heavy. He looked down at her and saw that her lip was trembling.
"Some people have only so many questions they can be asked at one time, Lucia," He smiled at her, "Don't take it to heart."
Lucia gave a slow nod.
"Try again some other day, butterfly. In the meantime get some sleep." He got up and ushered her towards the driest part on the ground.
There he laid down a bedroll, adding his own to keep her further from the frozen ground. Then he tucked her in with her cloak, and Lydia offered hers to use as a blanket.
"Can you tell me a story?" Lucia asked, she batted her eyes at Boromir.
"You know I'm never good at these." Boromir sighed.
"Please?" Lucia begged.
"Mandos…" Boromir muttered under his breath, "Alright, alright." He scratched the back of his neck, "Have I ever told you about the Wizard and the-" Boromir thought for a moment, "The hedgehog." He seemed unsure, but waited for Lucia's reaction.
Her eyes widened, "No you haven't." She settled in, ignoring the winds that whipped just outside their shelter.
Boromir gave an awkward smirk, but continued, "Well. When I was a very small boy, my mother would tell me tales of the wizard Radagast the Brown, who lived up in the north at his home in Rhos-" He tried to jog his memory, "Rhosgobel." He concluded.
"Now Radagast was a very kind soul, and unlike other wizards he sought to care for all animals big and small. He loved the forest dearly, and held a tenderness in his heart for all things that grew.
"One day, the Wizard was walking through his forest, admiring the green of the trees and the softness of the earth underneath him, when he stumbled upon a poor little hedgehog who had been injured. With an unmatched kindness, Radagast picked up the small creature and took it home. For days he nursed the hedgehog. The wizard hardly slept at all, his heart heavy with worry for the hedgehog."
"Is the hedgehog okay?" Lucia pried.
"Well, let me tell the story and you will find out." Boromir sighed, urging Lucia to lay back down. He thought on how to continue, and once he was satisfied, he cleared his throat.
"Eventually the hedgehog was happy and healthy again, his afflictions tended to. The hedgehog was extremely grateful, but tried as he might, Radagast would hear nothing of a payment for his kindness.
"Years went by, and Radagast nearly forgot all about the little hedgehog he had healed. However, winter had come, and it was particularly harsh. After visiting a family of rabbits, Radagast had gotten lost in a snowstorm. Normally he would have known the way home, but the storm was so great he lost his bearings.
"Cold and tired, the wizard made his trek through the woods. The trees did their best to shield him from the snow, but their bare branches could only do so much. Through the thick sheets of snow, Radagast finally saw a small light. He followed it to a hollow in a tree, and he settled inside just enough where he was out of the snow.
"It wasn't long before the kindly wizard had fallen asleep, that he felt a warmth in his bones. His eyes opened, and there was the grateful hedgehog. The little creature had seen the plight of the wizard who was so kind to him, and called upon his entire family to help. They all gathered around Radagast, adding their warmth to him so that winter's chill would not take him while he slept. And only after that did the hedgehog finally feel that his debt to Radagast had been paid."
Boromir cleared his throat after he concluded his tale, unsure if it was sufficient for Lucia's expansive imagination. He concluded it was good enough when he heard a soft snore in the near dark. Boromir made sure Lucia was covered in enough warmth and went back to his place by the fire.
Lydia gave him a smirk as she smoked.
"Sounds like a tale my da used to tell when I was younger." She said to him.
"It was hardly sufficient. I'm no storyteller." Boromir said.
Lydia chuckled, "Neither was he."
Their levity was broken by the sound of logs falling to the ground. They both looked up and saw Kujo. Boromir furrowed his brow.
Kujo shrugged, his one amber eye glistening in the dark.
"Wood." He motioned to the pile of kindling.
Lydia spoke to Kujo in a language Boromir couldn't understand. He was almost caught off guard by the change in tongue. To him it seemed close to the language of the Horse Lords, but there was still something more earthy to Lydia's words. The only words he could recognize were when Lydia spoke Eira's name.
Boromir had heard this language only a handful of times in Whiterun. Lucia explained to him most cities spoke common. Now with the coming war the Nords took more to their own language.
Kujo then added a few words in the strange tongue, he was clearly indifferent to what Lydia had said or asked. Lydia spat at Kujo and threw her arms up.
"What happened?" Boromir asked, annoyed with both of them.
Lydia shook her head, "He doesn't know where Eira went off to."
Boromir stood up, "Well she couldn't have gone far."
"I-" Lydia started.
"Stay here." Boromir said to both Kujo and Lydia. He then whispered to himself, "Mandos, help me…"
Eira hadn't strayed too far. Boromir found her among the few pine trees that grew this far up the mountain. She sat on a rock fidgeting with something in her hands.
In the moons' light, Boromir saw Eira braiding dark horsehair on a handmade doll. Her deep concentration kept her from hearing Boromir walking towards her, and she jumped when he sat down.
"Akatosh's blood!" Eira held her hand to her chest, "You and Kujo…"
"What did he do?" Boromir asked, trying to keep the pangs of jealousy at bay.
"Sneaking up on me. I swear." Eira shook her head.
"My apologies." Boromir said, staring up at the moons, "You seem quite distracted." He commented.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Eira huffed.
Boromir sat next to her, "I know you don't want to do this…"
Eira gave a dry laugh, "That's quite the understatement. But-"
"But?"
"There's a very large part of me that is saying if not me, then who? And I think I know myself enough that I would have done this anyway. Dragonborn or no. If what I saw in Helgen is any glimpse of what is to come, I think I very well should be in that monastery."
"I'm glad you think so…" Boromir started, "But I am sorry you had to face so much to come to that conclusion."
"That dragon killed a lot of people. I am a selfish person for taking so long." Eira sighed.
"Sometimes people need time to process. And it's unfair of you to blame yourself." Boromir said, "Do not carry the weight of the dead, Eira. For it is a heavy burden."
Eira was silent for a long while, mulling over these words. Boromir tried to muster enough courage to speak to her about leaving.
"Eira, do you pay the Gods much mind?" He danced around his point.
Eira seemed confused by the question, but nonetheless answered, "Of course. Half of my nights I pray for Akatosh to give me guidance. It may seem foolish but I'd like to think he finally answered. Sending me to Skyrim at this time has to be by some Divine hand. Right?" She looked at Boromir.
"Right…" Boromir said quietly, "And...if one of your gods gave you a task, would you do it?"
Eira nodded before speaking, "If one of the Divines felt they needed to come and speak to me, I'd consider myself either very lucky, or divinely fucked." She laughed at herself, hoping to lighten the mood, "Why? Thinking of becoming a priest?"
"Maybe in another lifetime."
Eira pulled her cloak closer to her body. The wind whipped furiously around her hair and face. She hardly noticed the freezing cold as the group ascended the mountain.
Kujo was in the lead, deftly stepping through the thick snow. He turned to look at the others, making sure they were keeping up before continuing upwards.
Trying to ignore the haunting moans and cracks of the mountain, Boromir kept his focus on making sure Lucia was shielded from the bulk of the storm.
He shook away any memories of his journey through the pass of Caradhras, hoping he might have forgotten at least some of the terrible encounters he had on those frigid nights.
"How much longer?" He heard Lucia whimper from inside her cocoon of scarves and cloaks.
"Just up the ridge, little one." Kujo called from the front.
"See, not too far now." Boromir said lightheartedly.
Kujo stopped at the top of the hill. Eira stood beside him, looking up at the looming black castle before them.
"High Hrothgar." Kujo said to her, peering at the worn stones with his one eye, "After you, Dragonborn."
Eira gave a slight grumble, moving forward. She trudged slowly through the snow, feeling as if High Hrothgar itself had been watching her every move. She heard unintelligible whispers all around her that seemed to come from the dragon emblazoned doors at the top of the slippery steps.
"Would you have us wait outside, my Thane?" Lydia asked.
"Lucia needs to get out of the storm." Boromir gritted his teeth.
"The priests may feel we are not worthy." Lydia shot back.
"If they say so then I want nothing to do with this place." Eira rounded on the group.
Lydia sighed, "As you wish."
Eira went to the steps that led up to the monastery. Warily she stepped up, finding that her feet tingled as she did so. She shook away any doubts and pressed on, and when she reached the top she pushed open the large metal doors.
Cautiously she stepped inside, bringing in the blistering winds and tenacious flurries of snow behind her.
Boromir set Lucia down once Kujo had closed the doors. Lucia held his hand tightly as they watched Eira walk out of the stone entryway and into the open nave.
Eira stopped in front of a pillar holding a large brazier at it's peak. It surrounded by prayer rugs and smaller braziers. She pulled down the scarf from her mouth, her breath appearing before her.
"So a Dragonborn appears to us. At this moment, the turning of the age."
Eira whipped around, finding that four men clad in grey robes had circled around her. The one that spoke stepped forward to her, his clouded blue eyes piercing through her.
"You and many others say I am Dragonborn," Eira started, her breath hitching, "What does it mean?"
The Greybeard straightened to his full height, "We must first see if you truly are the Dragonborn. We must have taste of your voice."
Eira hesitated, "I haven't-I haven't shouted since the dragon."
"A Dragonborn carries the Voice within themselves, it never leaves." The Greybeard told her, "Now come, use your shout against us."
Eira ignored the stares from everyone else behind her. She looked between each of the Greybeards and saw that they were all looking at her. She cleared her throat, not knowing what sort of energy she needed to summon.
Then it came to her.
She inhaled deeply, focusing her thoughts on the energy that traveled to her as the soul of the dragon at Whiterun had gone through her. Her eyes went white, and her voice changed.
Boromir held Lucia close to him as he heard a dragon's roar rip through Eira, her whole body rippling like the rays of the sun on a hot road.
As she shouted, Boromir watched the Greybeards resist the small amount of force that had run through Eira.
Almost as soon as she had completed her shout Eira had returned back to her normal state. Her eyes were glossed over as she looked upon the faces of the Greybeards, who were now astounded.
"Dragonborn," The monk who had spoke to her before stepped forward to Eira, "Welcome. Welcome to High Hrothgar. I am Master Arngeir, and I speak for the Greybeards." He then furrowed his brow, "Tell me, Dragonborn, why have you come to us?"
"I-" Eira started, "I want to know what it means to be Dragonborn."
"And we are here to guide you in such a pursuit. There have been many of the Dragon Blood before you, and the Greybeards have always sought to aid them."
"There are others?" Eira asked, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
"You are not the first, no," Arngeir said to her, "Since Akatosh first bestowed the gift of Dragon Blood upon mortals, there have been a great many. If you are the only Dragonborn of this age, it is not yet known to us. You have been the only one revealed to us in this age."
"I see." Eira said, "Then I am ready to learn."
Arngeir seemed amused at her readiness, "Very well. You have shown us that you are truly Dragonborn. You have an inborn gift. But we now must see if you have the discipline and temperament to follow your Gods given path. Without training you have already taken steps in your training and that is projecting your Thu'um, or your Shout. We must see if you are willing and able to learn."
"What must I do?" Eira asked.
"Stand in the center please," Arngeir pointed to the stone that was placed directly between each of the monks, "Now, when you Shout you are speaking the language of Dragons. Your Dragon Blood gives you the ability to learn new Words of Power. All Shouts are made of three Words of Power. With each word Mastered your Thu'um grows stronger. You know 'Fus'. Now Master Einarth will teach you the second Word, 'Ro'. It is part of your Unrelenting Force, the Thu'um of such thunderous power will push back any known object. 'Fus' is force where 'Ro' is balance. Use them to better focus your Thu'um."
One of the other monks stepped forward, his lips seemingly grown shut from disuse. But when he opened his mouth and whispered, Eira could see the runes of Dragon speech form on the stone floor. Just as it had on the wall in the Barrow.
She wasn't sure what had done it, but the power of the new word had begun to flow through her. She felt electric currents sink into her skin and a new force had been bestowed upon her. The runes disappeared before she had even touched them.
"By the Gods, you learn new words like a true Master." Arngeir said incredulously, "It is truly a gift. Though learning a Word of Power is only one step. The next is understanding it. You must unlock its meaning, its purpose. Or at least that is how the rest of us learn. As Dragonborn you can absorb the souls of slain dragons to gain the knowledge. But, for now, Master Einar will allow you to tap into his understanding of 'Ro'."
Eira watched ribbons of light flow through Einar. Her whole body felt as if it had lifted off the ground, but she knew her feet were steady against the stone floor.
She saw images of dragons run through her mind, all of them using the Thu'um. A flicker of knowledge clicked in her head, and she knew the word as her own.
"Let us see how quickly you have mastered the new word." Arngeir said to her.
Eira summoned the newly found power of her Thu'um, feeling the force raise through her body as she shouted, adding not only force, but balance.
Arngeir gave the hint of a smile, "You do show great promise, Dragonborn. We have no way of knowing what learning multiple Words of Power in quick succession will do. Therefore I propose that in the morning we will perform your next trial. You and your companions are welcome to take your rest for the night. Master Wulfgar will show you to where you will sleep during your stay."
"Thank you, Master." Eira said quietly, summoning the others to her.
Wulfgar brought them to a dormitory on the other side of the monastery. None of the rooms had doors, but each one had a small Spartan bed and a washing station.
Lucia quickly shed herself of any wet clothing and climbed into a warm bed, falling asleep not long after.
After he had changed, Boromir stood by a brazier to warm his hands. He watched Lydia go into her room only to hear soft snoring not long after.
"The journey really did them in." Kujo commented, no longer in his visage of animal skins, but a simple tunic and trousers. His yellow eye pierced through Boromir.
"Lucia is unused to such travel." Boromir said to him, turning back to the fire.
"I don't know many who can say they have made such treks." Kujo said, "Especially children."
"You know many children?" Boromir asked.
Kujo seemed pained, "There is little in my heart for many things. But I can say I do love my pups."
"You've a family?"
"Of sorts. No mate to speak of. Just kids who were once sick and dying. Right now they'd be fast asleep." Kujo smirked, "I reckon one of the older ones is up keeping watch."
"So your home is more akin to an orphanage?"
"Well there's less beatings." Kujo frowned, "And they know how to care for themselves. I just make sure they've a warm home to go to when the days get colder and lives get harder."
"A noble pursuit some might say."
"But only some."
Boromir sensed the end of the conversation, "Perhaps we could all do with a little rest."
"I couldn't agree more."
With that, Boromir left to seek Eira. He found her in her room, sitting up in her bed with her head in her hands.
"Are you alright?"
"As good as I'll ever be." Eira looked up and smiled at him, "It's good to have such a peaceful air around I think."
"Planning on staying up here forever?"
Eira laughed, "Wouldn't stay peaceful if I did."
"I might have to agree on that."
Eria let out a light hearted scoff, "I think maybe my mind wanders too much in the quiet. The Gods think to tease me even now. The allure of my intended journey to Riften is sweet indeed. Yet here I am in a place of contemplation, to ultimately discover my path as Dragonborn. Would that I could wish it upon another I would do so at the quickest beat of my heart."
"Maybe the Gods have more planned for you-for us-than they seem to let on." Boromir said, hopeful that Eira would be forgiving in what he was about to tell her.
"I don't think they would mind a little deviation from their master plans." Eira gave a mischievous smirk, "Is it not their job to know my mind anyway?" She closed the space between her and Boromir, "No matter how naughty my thoughts may get."
"Eira-"
"Will you stay with me for the night?" She asked him.
He couldn't deny there was the maddening allure of being with her again. The fullness in her lips was a sweet release from his pains. Boromir had to force himself to keep his thoughts straight.
"You have much to do in the morning." He reminded her.
"Ever the gentleman thinking of the daunting tasks before me," Eira set her warm hand on his cheek, "But I'm a big girl." Then she added, "Of course if you don't want to-"
Boromir pulled her in for a hard kiss.
Once he let go, under ragged breath he said, "You know I do."
He moved to kiss at her neck, biting at the sensitive flesh.
She was seemingly delighted with the gruffness in his words.
"Fuck me senseless then." She loosened the ties to her night shirt.
Eira pulled Boromir down to the bed, reaching over to put out her bedside candle with her fingers.