Good by grandpa, thanks for everything
Thanks to A Mountain Sage, Fragment of ring and CryptIXeeper because they're my betas
Under strange skies
Final Chapter
Dragonborn
"The Stormcrown manted by way of the fourth: the steps of the dead. Mantling and incarnation are separate roads; do not mistake this. The latter is built from the cobbles of drawn-bone destiny. The former: walk like them until they must walk like you. This is the death children bring as the Sons of Hora."
-Tiber Septim-
"What about our reserves of water?"
"They are fine. Our wells filled with the latest icing. We could withstand a three months long siege."
"But we're not going to be besieged! We need the water to fight the fires!"
"At least nine out of ten homes are made of wood, how are we going to protect them?"
"We have to recruit firefighters among the citizens."
"How many empty barrels do we have? If we put ten here, here and here with two firefighters per barrel we should have the whole city covered."
"We don't have that many!"
"Then let's use the beer ones."
"And the beer?"
"We toss it down a well!"
In the middle of the storm of shouts and desperation, Balgruuf the Greater remained silent. Maps of his lands normally used to show the movements of imperial and rebel patrols were spread in front of him and now marked the last known position of the dragon that had attacked the Western Watchtower and the, probably lost, forty-eighth platoon stationed there.
"And how do you pretend to surround the bastard? It can fly! If we send the bulk of the troops to kill it, all it has to do is fly over their heads to attack the city itself."
To his right he had Farengar and to his left, Avenicci, with Irileth in front of him on the other side of the table, arguing with his generals. Each one proposed different ideas, different views and suggestions, but none reached any viable solution. Balgruuf's men were good, they knew the art of war and could easily compete with any Imperial centurion, but how could he ask them to devise a way to fight against a creature of legend?
"We have to ask the legion for help."
"It would be the same as giving them the go-ahead to take control of the city! Besides they wouldn't be of much help if we look at what happened in Helgen."
"And the Companions?"
"Fighting alongside these mercenaries? For that we should call Ulfric and his band of…"
"SILENCE!" Balgruuf roared and immediately the shouts stopped. "This discussion leads us nowhere. We don't know how to fight against a dragon and I doubt that Ulfric or Tullius know either, so, unless any of you are in secret a Dragonborn, I suggest you shut up." Supporting his fists on the table, the Jarl leaned forwards and stared them down, making it clear that he was tired of their nonsense. "We know nothing of this creature, so we must go and find out." Balgruuf paused a few seconds, letting the idea he was proposing sink in the minds of those present.
Finally he looked at the one in front of him "Irileth." He called, and his Housecarl immediately responded.
"Yes, my Jarl?" She straightened.
"I want you to organize a platoon, select the men you want, and march to the Western Watchtower on scouting mission. We need to know what happened there."
"I won't fail you, my lord." The woman answered placing a fist against her chest.
"I should go to." Farengar interjected. "I would like to see this dragon myself, and my magic could be useful."
"No." Balgruuf cut. "I can't risk sending both of you. I need you here working on ways to defend the city."
"As you command." The magician replied resigned.
"And one last thing, Irileth, before you leave." The jarl added seeing that his Housecarl was already preparing to leave. "This is not a death or glory mission. I need you alive to tell me what we're facing here."
"Don't worry, my Lord." She replied "I'm the very soul of caution."
Louise snoozed peacefully on her bed after a quiet and dreamless night, as fortunately had been lately. Her body relaxed and her mind at peace; she knew that any minute now she would hear the roosters crow and that would be her signal to get up and start her day, but until that happened she had no intentions of moving from that position.
She had been thinking about her various duties for the day when she overheard a distant sound, an echo that was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
First were the distant footsteps, but very soon came the noises of doors opening and closing violently and groups of people moving hurriedly from one place to another. Finally she heard the cries and the noble realized that what was happening outside wasn't normal.
With a mixture of fear and trepidation the young girl put on her shoes and threw her fur coat over her shoulders to protect herself from the cold and to hide the short sleeve that she used as nightwear.
Poking her head through the door of her bedroom, she immediately saw a guard crossing the corridor at full speed.
"Hey! Excuse me, what…" She called to him, but the man didn't pay the slightest attention to her voice and, without deviating from his path, walked past Louise and got lost behind a corner, leaving behind a grumpy girl. "What's wrong with him?" She asked herself. The noble searched for any familiar face, but didn't have to wait much time before the sound of footsteps alerted her that someone was approaching. It turned out to be the same guard that she had seen just seconds ago, this time marching in the opposite direction and carrying in his arms several enormous arrows that could have been mistaken with the handles of brooms. That worried Louise; that was ammunition for a ballista, and the girl could only think on a single reason for why it was needed: they were under attack.
"Oh sweet Mara, what are we going to do?" An elder woman's voice startled Louise. She searched for its origin and found one of the castle servants leaning against one of the pillars of the wall, with a bucket at her feet and her eyes red with tears.
"You, servant!" The noble called. "Eh… Gerda!" She finally remembered her name and the old woman lifted her head to address the noble. "What's happening?"
"Oh, Miss Valliére, it's terrible." The woman said between sobs. "A dragon attacked one of the towers to the west of the city." Louise felt as a knot forming in her throat. "My poor boy was there and they… and they don't tell me what was of him… I… I'm sorry." Unable to control her grief, the woman broke down in tears and went down some nearby stairs.
Half in a daze Louise returned to her room, closed the door gently behind her, pressed her back against it and slowly let her body slide down, ending up sited on the floor.
A dragon?
Would it be that one?
That monster, black as night. The same one which tormented her in her dreams?
Balgruuf was preparing his troops to battle it. That had to be enough to push it back, right?
What hope did the guard of a city have against a beast that had already triumphed over one of the most powerful armies in the continent?
Should she care about the outcome?
This wasn't her land.
This wasn't her people.
Louise gritted her teeth and clenched her fists.
The Jarl would surely send his best soldiers. Was there anything she could do to help? Would she make a difference? Could she live with herself if she didn't find out?
Her gaze fell on the iron helmet that rested on a nearby chair.
This wasn't Tristan, this wasn't the place where she had been born and raised, and her arrival had been many things but pleasant; but despite all of that her heart ached thinking on the possibility of seeing this land destroyed, the people hurt. Many of them hadn't exactly been kind to her, but had shown an affection for her that she hadn't felt in a long time.
Perhaps this wasn't her problem, but she would make it her own.
She knew what she had to do.
Irileth inspected the troops that had gathered in front of Dragonsreach's doors. Twenty of the best men and women that Whiterun had at its disposal and, to be honest, it was a disappointing image. With the exception of one or two veterans who had fought in the Great War, most were trembling like leaves, looking nervously from one side to the other and fiddling with their weapons, two or three had even surrendered their legs and were now seated on some of the supplies boxes that the servants had brought that morning for the cooks, but had been abandoned when they heard the alarms.
It was pitiful, but could she blame them? Her many years of experience were the only thing that allowed her to hide her own nervousness.
Irileth feared no man or mer, but what they were facing… it was something else.
"Attention!" The Dunmer ordered and the guards immediately straightened up, standing firmly in front of her. Some contained their breaths so they wouldn't throw up. "This is the current situation: at O four hundred hours of today we received an urgent message from one of our watchtowers. The reason was the attack of a dragon."
The troops didn't erupt in chaos, as the woman had been fearing, but the panic was evident in their eyes.
"What?" Someone murmured.
"A dragon?"
"That cannot be."
"You hear it right!" The Dunmer said while walking slowly but resolutely among the rows of assembled soldiers, looking at their grim expressions and trying to maintain the order. She didn't know the name of most of them, but she would be sure to memorize their faces. "I said dragon! I don't care where it comes from or who sent it. What I do know is that it made the mistake of attacking Whiterun!"
"But my lady…" A woman started. "How can we fight a dragon?"
That was a very good question. One that Irileth wasn't quite sure how to answer.
"I understand your concerns." She said showing determination. "None of us was trained for any of this. How can we prepare to face a creature that supposedly went extinct centuries ago?" She said walking back to the front of the group. "But these are our homes that are at stake here! Our families! None of us have seen a dragon before, but…"
"I did!"
All eyes turned around to look for the source of that bold statement. Who had dared to interrupt the Housecarl of Jarl Balgruuf the Greater?
Who they saw coming from the interior of the castle was a person covered in a thick iron armor, crafted in the style of the Nords of old. At her back she carried a long bow, a quiver full of arrows and a bastard sword, and at her waist a dagger and a small pouch that contained a potion or maybe two.
That would've been an intimidating image, if the person in question hadn't been so short.
"What're you doing here?" Asked a very angry Irileth.
"Helping, of course." The young Louise de La Valliére answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm your foremost expert in dragons here."
"Expert?" The Dunmer exclaimed. "By virtue of what?"
What happened next was something that none of the soldiers gathered there could have been anticipating: with a leap the noble climbed on top of one of the supplies boxes distributed around place so she could look down at the elf and, in a very stern tone, she said:
"By virtue of survival!" Before anyone could say anything, she continued. "I was in Helgen! I saw that thing killing soldiers by the dozens! I saw the legionnaires trying to fight it in vain. But I survived." She turned her head and addressed the guards. "You don't know what to expect, I do!" Lowering her voice, she went back with Irileth. "You need me."
"You're nothing more than a girl pretending to be a warrior!" The woman, who hadn't been intimidated by the noble's speech, said. "We don't need you."
Louise narrowed her eyes, she could almost feel her blood starting to boil.
"Really?" She asked. "Did you know that when they say 'Fus' is a signal that they're about to use a wind spell? Or that when they say 'Yol' they're going to breath fire?"
"And how is that you know that?"
"What, are you deaf? I just told you! I saw it with my own two eyes, I felt it in my skin and hear the screams of people dying under the power of those spells!" For a few seconds no one breathed while they observed the silent duel of stares between the elf and the noble.
"I didn't know that the dragons had magic." Irileth reluctantly admitted.
"Well, now you know it." What followed was another uncomfortable stalemate between the two, neither wanting to be the first to blink. "Do you know that when a dragon breathes fire the flames cover about ninety percent of its view?" The noble recited recalling her mother's lessons. "They can't fix their aim once they start attacking, so it's possible to evade them if you know how."
Irileth frowned, but she had to admit that information could save lives. "I won't be able to protect you if something goes wrong."
"I don't need your protection. With my sword I have enough."
Irileth didn't lower her gaze; there was no doubt or fear on the girl's face. That was much more than what she could say about the assembled guards.
Finally the Dunmer nodded and turned to her men. "We already lost too much time here." She told them. "We have our orders, we march at once!"
One by one the soldiers started to walk, descending the stairs in the direction of the main door. Louise walked alongside the platoon, looking from left to right at the silent homes; the streets were deserted and she noticed that the windows of most buildings had been blocked with wooden planks; signal that the citizens had been warned and had taken the necessary precautions. The lively Whiterun now looked like a ghost town, but every now and then she could see a shadow or a reflection of eyes behind curtains; sole evidence that the city was still pretty much alive.
Louise swallowed, she felt overwhelmed by the sense of fatalism that cluttered the environment. She looked forward and noticed that the guards were hanging their heads low. Instead of soldiers they looked like prisoners who were being taken to the gallows. Looking down at her feet she realized that instinctively she had shifted to the back and the center of the column, an old custom she had adopted at the Academy.
She frowned. 'No. I am a noble, I am not going to cower behind commoners. I am not a zero."
Taking a deep breath she straightened her back and quickened the pace. The formation was tight so she bumped into several soldiers in her way to the front. Once there she slowed down, matching the elf's speed but letting Irileth walk a few steps in front of her; she was the leader of the group after all and Louise was going to respect that.
It was a small gesture, but sometimes that was all one needed.
One of the guards raised his head and felt humiliated seeing that the young girl had got ahead of him. Stubborn man that he was, he stood up straight and stuck his chest out. Following the example of her comrade, the woman to his right decided to do the same.
Louise didn't look back, but if she had done so she would have seen that the men and women at her back now looked like proper warriors. They had recovered their hope; perhaps they could do this after all!
A young girl named Mila observed the procession from the security of her home. Decades later, when she retold the story of that day to her grandchildren, she would say that who she saw marching alongside her soldiers was a tall and proud knight, with a sword in one hand and a mace in the other.
Farengar approached the door to his assistant's bedroom, amazed that all the fuss hadn't awakened the girl.
"Louise!" He called knocking the door, but there was no response. "Are you there?" No one answered. He turned the handle and was surprised to see that it wasn't locked. He opened the door and entered the room. "Louise! I need to… damn it."
It was around nine in the morning when the platoon arrived at the watchtower. At that time the sun should have already been illuminating the sky but the clouds in the sky and the ashes in the air were blocking its light. The result was a landscape tinted in a rusty-red color. There were several transport carts abandoned in the surrounding area along with the carcasses of horses from which the beast had fed. Those were the only remaining memories of the group of merchants that had been attacked together with Whiterun's soldiers.
"God." Louise felt a shiver running down her back, a feeling shared by all the platoon. Her only consolation was that there were no human bodies in sight, although it was better not to think too much about what had happened to them.
"Split up and comb the area." The dark elf ordered. "If there are survivors I want them fond and brought back to the city."
The guards quickly obeyed and dispersed to cover the ground. All in groups of two or three, no one wanted to be left alone in that place.
Louise's nerves were killing her, the scenery was shocking. The once magnificent tower was a wreck, with big holes around its walls. The wooden roof that protected the terrace from rain and arrows no longer existed and smoke still rose from the inside of the building, evidence of the searing fire that had consumed it. There were still small tongues of fire burning the fields. The battle had been fierce and a defeat for the defenders.
The noble felt a tug on her left arm and the heart almost jumps out of her chest.
"Come with us." One of the guards told Louise leading her to the remains of a burnt caravan that rested alongside the southern road. Apparently the merchants were in their way to Whiterun when they came under attack.
"Ly-Lydia?" The noble exclaimed, surprised to find the familiar woman there. It was really nice to see a friendly face.
"Stay close, there's safety in numbers." Louise had crossed paths several times with the young woman during her stay in Dragonsreach and had shared a very nice conversation the previous day. The noble thought that the guard had seemed like a pleasant and friendly person, but it was surprising to see how her face had changed now that she was in combat. In her eyes there was no trace left of kindness or that youthful mischievousness, only a fierce determination remained.
"Tha-Thank…"
"Safety? Please!" A man complained while walking from behind the turned-over cart. She didn't know him and with that attitude she deduced that she hadn't missed much. "The only thing that the numbers are going to be good for is so we don't die alone. I'm going to feel sorry for the poor asshole that is left for last."
"Don't be fatalistic." Lydia scolded him narrowing her eyes.
"I am a realist! We could be twenty or two hundreds, we aren't going to be more than a snack for the lizard."
"Then why you are here?"
"They ordered me to! Besides, I'm a Nord! I won't flee from any fight. And because… I have my secret weapon." With his hand he searched the folds of his uniform and from one pocket he pulled out a small bottle with a ruby red liquid.
It was Louise the one who immediately recognized what it was.
"A healing potion!" She said recalling some of her lessons with Farengar. "That must have cost a small fortune!"
"Not exactly a small one." He replied sharply. "But if this lets me survive more than most, it's going to be worth its weight in gold."
"It could also save someone's life."
"Ba! If someone wants to, they can buy their own. It's not my fault if they aren't careful."
Louise would have criticized the unpleasant individual, but an alarmed voice diverted her attention.
"Over here! Quick!"
The cry came from behind a pair of wooden buildings that had been built next to the tower. Maybe a chapel and a latrine.
At full speed something more than twenty warriors ran toward the place, forming a semicircle around a corner. Louise and her companions arrived last, so they had to push to open a path and see what the cause of the commotion was. They found a man lying on the ground wearing the yellow uniform of the city of Whiterun with Irileth knelt by his side; he wasn't hurt but he seemed to be in shock, his eyes lost in the void.
"Guard! Respond!" The elf demanded. "We need to know what happened here."
The man moved his mouth without making any sound, but after a few seconds and a few unintelligible grunts his words started to make sense.
"There is no hope." He said, with the tone of a man who had already accepted his own death. "He first went after Hroki and then after Tor."
"Damn it! Snap out of it!" Irileth shook the man's shoulders, but he just kept repeating the same phrase over and over again.
Louise heard the beating of wings.
"Stop, Sir! You're going to hurt him!" One of the guards told the elf.
Louise raised her head towards the sky, trying to find the origin of the sound she had heard.
Irileth sigh. It was always sad to lose a soldier, either in body or in mind. "We return to Whiterun. This man needs help and…"
"Take cover!" The warning came just in time. From behind a cloud a black figure rushed toward them at an incredible speed. Louise had never seen anything that moved so fast.
The soldiers spread out and those who had bows started to shoot their arrows. Louise joined them using with accuracy the bow she had rescued in the Barrows; but it was a futile effort as the arrows just bounced off against the beast's armored skin.
A ball of fire joined the attack, courtesy of Irileth, but it was a slow projectile and the dragon evaded it drifting to the left.
"Why isn't it using its fire yet?" Louise wondered. That's how the dragons she knew back in Halkeginia preferred to initiate any attack, with a flare that left the enemy vulnerable to their claws and their teeth. But then she remembered that this wasn't a common dragon, she wasn't quite sure if this one really was one of the legendary rhyme dragons, but she knew that it was intelligent and that those weren't the savage instincts of an animal what were guiding it. So, what was it planning?
Louise noted its angle of descent and raised an eyebrow; with that speed and with that inclination the dragon would pass high over their heads, what was it aiming for? The noble turned her head and with horror noticed what was right behind them.
"Ellina!" Irileth, who had also realized what was about to happen, cried. "It's going after you!"
Ellina had been standing next to the survivor when they found him, and when Louise had shouted her warning, she had been who had thrown him over her shoulders to try hiding him inside the watchtower.
The dragon had returned to finish the job.
"Ahhh! No, no!" The man's cries of terror after seeing how the beast that had killed his friends rushed towards him broke Louise's heart. The girl hung her bow at her back and drew her sword. She had to do something!
The female guard that had been protecting the survivor placed him on the ground and readied her shield and her one-hand axe but with a beat of its mighty wings the dragon threw her on her back. The dragon landed on the ground and closed one of its powerful claws over the chest of the survivor.
Time stopped and for the first time Louise was able to see her enemy with clarity. This wasn't the same beast that had threatened her life back in Helgen, this one was smaller and instead of black its scales were of a greenish brown color. This wasn't the monster of her nightmares, but she couldn't think about that now; she, Lydia, Irileth and several more men ran to the rescue of their companion, but they were too slow. With a whiplash of its tail the dragon hit the noble in the shoulder, pushing her against other three guards and sending all of them to the ground. The Dunmer was the only one to arrive next to the captured soldier, but was unable to do anything; the dragon beat its wings and rose two meters above the ground, Irileth jumped forward trying to take the man's hand, but she only brushed the tips of his fingers. The twenty soldiers and the lonely adventurer that the Dunmer had brought with her could only contemplate in mute horror how the beast flew away with one of their own in one of its claws.
The dragon rose twenty, thirty and up to forty meters while the wind carried the cries of help of their comrade.
They thought it was carrying him to later eat him, like it had surely done with the rest of his detachment in view of the lack of bodies. That might have been a painful end, but at least a fast one. Instead, when the dragon came close to seventy meters of height, it opened its claw leaving the man plunge to his death.
Louise averted her gaze, but that did nothing to silence the sickly noise that the body of the poor guard made on impact.
The dragon turned its body to face Irileth and her troop, who remained muted in horror.
"Men!" The Dunmer announced. "I want to gift Balgruuf the head of the bastard on a silver platter."
No one said anything, but in silence they reached a decision: they would leave that place with the corpse of the beast or they would never do.
The dragon nosedived, this time in a perfect angle to incinerate them all. "Yol!" It roared.
"Fireball!" Louise cried, warning her comrades of the impending attack.
"Spread out!" The Dunmer ordered. "You already know how!"
Just seconds before the flames erupted from the dragon's throat, the guards parted left and right, throwing themselves to the ground, behind rocks and trees and leaving a clear path in the middle for the dragon and its fire-breath to pass without hurting anyone.
The noble, along with two other men, landed into a depression of the landscape, possibly an ancient river that had dried out, and waited for the worst to be over. The beast hisses and Louise could feel the immense heat over her head as the flames consumed the place where only a few moments ago she had been standing on. It wasn't until she heard the beating of wings announcing that the dragon was gaining back altitude that she dared to lift her head.
The field was burnt, even the stones had been blackened by the heat, but no one had been killed yet. Unfortunately they didn't have time to recover, as at that moment the beast was turning around the sky getting ready for a new attack, this time in a different direction.
"Here it comes again!" Someone yelled, Louise didn't know who that was. With a roar of 'Yol!' the dragon charged them again. Louise leaped behind a small stone fence next to Irileth and pressed her body against the ground. The noble waited again, praying for the attack to pass without leaving victims behind, but unfortunately this time her prayers weren't answered.
"Aghhh!" A man screamed and instinctively Louise rose to observe what was happening.
The injured guard was dragging himself over the dirt, he hadn't had time to react and the flames had burned his two legs. If the dragon continued with its current flight path then maybe they could have time to pick the guard up and carry him to safety. If the man received immediate treatment his legs could be saved.
The dragon had other plans.
With a powerful flap the beast stopped in midair, turned and landed on the ground, directly in front of its victim.
Louise opened her eyes horrified, readied her sword and jumped over the fence. Five guards rushed the beast, armed with axes and swords, four more prepared their bows and to her left the noble saw the elf conjuring an electric shock in her hands.
The beast was cruel and relentless.
With one of its claws the dragon crushed the legs of its chosen prey, breaking them as if they were sticks. The man screamed in agony, but his cries were violently silenced when powerful jaws closed over his chest, separating the trunk from the rest of the body.
Louise suppressed a cry and tears of impotence. She had never... she had never seen that much blood before.
Five arrows bounced uselessly against the flank of the beast. The dragon dropped the remains of the dead guard and quickly spun its body, once more using its tail as a whip to push the attackers back. Louise and three other men were able to react in time, rolling, crouching and letting the dangerous appendage pass over their heads, but a woman wasn't able to move in time and received a powerful blow in the stomach that threw her through the air. The hit wasn't fatal, but the women hit the ground with her head. She would never rise again.
A giant of a man was the first to stand up and attack the dragon with his battle-axe, but the elusive creature twisted its body and with a bite, ripped the man's arm. The dragon would have finished the job if it wasn't for a discharge of electrical magic that hit its neck, forcing the creature to take a step back, giving the soldiers time to regroup.
Two men put their wounded comrade over their shoulders and took him out of the combat, while the others pressed their attack.
Six soldiers tried to attack from behind, but were forced to stand their ground before the fierce whippings of the tail.
With Lydia and another soldier, Louise attacked from the front.
A swordsman cut from the left, but had to retreat to prevent being crushed by one of the gigantic wings. Lydia attacked the head and Louise the throat. The guard had to dodge a bite sidestepping to the right but the noble's sword hit true and penetrated a few centimeters into the flesh of the beast. Louise smiled at the sight of the dark and thick blood that coated the blade of her weapon, but the joy lasted too little as she had to jump back to evade the fangs of the dragon that almost crush her ribcage.
With a battle-axe a man jumped from her right, but with a blow of its head the dragon knocked him down; seeing the opened mouth of its enemy, Louise grabbed her weapon firmly with both hands and launched a powerful thrust trying to stab its palate, but as if it were a snake the dragon curved its neck and bite the metal blade of the sword, shattering it.
With a cry of fear Louise fell and, in a moment of distraction that almost cost her life, lowered her eyes to see the remains of her weapon.
"Fus! Ro!"
She was too slow to move and was hit with the full force of the magical shockwave that threw her like a ragdoll. Louise landed in a ditch and for a few seconds she didn't move, but after mustering her courage she stood up. She felt dizzy, so at first she couldn't give any meaning to the noises she was hearing. Sounded like convulsions, guttural echoes caused by a drowning man, but at the same time her body recovered its balance she recognized what they were. Those were laughs.
"I had forgotten what fine sport you mortals can provide." Someone said in a deep voice, full of pride. "I will show you why I, Mirmulnir, am the greatest hunter of all."
That… that was the dragon! It… he… he was mocking them! 'Blasted creature' Louise thought while still holding to the sad remains of her steel sword. The bastard had crushed it, how could she fight him now?
"Son of a bitch." Someone mumbled to the noble's right.
"Lydia! Are you ok?" Louise hadn't noticed that the guard had been hit by the same spell as she and had landed under the noble. Offering a shoulder, Louise helped her back to her feet.
"Shaken, but I'll live." She answered, turning her head to observe the battlefield. "This is not going well." The battle continued, the human soldiers surrounded their terrible adversary, but it was almost impossible for them to approach, if someone managed to evade his teeth they soon discovered that his wings and tail were also formidable weapons.
"He's playing with us." Louise stated in a somber tone. "He's enjoying this."
"What?!" The female guard exclaimed, a part of her feared that her young companion was probably right. "How do you know that?"
"It… he isn't using his fire breath and isn't flying either, limiting his own attacks to prolong the fight. Besides… he said that himself, he believes that we are a good sport."
Lydia had no words to respond to that. Louise was absolutely right, if the dragon had wanted to they would surely be all dead by now. But there was one thing that was bothering her above the rest: she had heard the bastard talking, but the strange language had made no sense, it was pure gibberish. How had the noble managed to understand it?
"Any ideas?" She woman asked leaving her doubts for later.
"Only one." The girl answered discarding the handle of her broken sword and unsheathing her dagger. "Fireball."
"What…"
*Boom! *
"Graaaaaa!"
The blast was earsplitting and the beast's cry of pain was incredibly satisfying but, truth be told, that wasn't really the reaction that the noble had been expecting. Her explosions were powerful, yes, and had proved their worth against the horde of undeads that Louise had faced alongside Farengar, but for the students and teachers back at the Academy they had never been more than a harmless inconvenience! The dragon sounded to have been grievously wounded by it.
The smoke and dust clouded the field and for a second Louise dared to believe that the beast had been defeated. Fortunately she had learned to not be so trusting.
"Yol!"
"Take cover!" With only fractions of a second to react, Louise grabbed Lydia from the shoulders and pushed her to the right, evading the all-consuming fireball by a hair's breadth.
Three guards tried to take advantage of the apparent moment of weakness of their enemy and charged him, but they paid it dearly. With a speed and ferocity that he hadn't shown up to that moment, the dragon broke the skull of the first with a wing, crushed the second under one of its legs and ripped off the chest of the third with a bite.
Mirmulnir had grown tired of playing with his preys.
"God." Louise looked with horrified fascination the carnage and drowned a cry of terror after meeting the monster's eyes. "Fireball!" She screamed, but in an incredibly fast and fluid movement, Mirmulnir beat his wings and leap towards Louise, evading the explosion and crossing in just a second the distance that separated them.
"Stand back!" Louise's partner cried and with her sword and her shield tried to stand her ground between the beast and the girl, but with a sharp flap the dragon pushed her away.
"Fireb…" Louise casted, but with a violent movement of its neck Mirmulnir hit her in the stomach, forcing out all the air from her lungs and making her to drop her dagger. Louise took four steps back, tried to keep her balance but finally crashed against the ground. Louise was hurt, had nothing to defend herself… wait a moment! Her pouch! It was no longer fastened to her shoulder; the straps must have broken with the fall. Where was it?
"Heartless spawn of Lorkhan! You dare to strike me?" The dragon roared, showing his long fangs that were approaching the noble, but before Mirmulnir could do with her what he had already done with several men, a lightning bolt stroke his head.
*Crack!*
"Graaaaaa!"
Irileth's timely intervention gave Louise some valuable seconds that she quickly used to search for her bag. She found it to the right of one of the dragon's massive claws next to the wooden shield that had belonged to Lydia. Without a second of doubt the noble leap forward. Supporting her weight on her right arm she rolled between Mirmulnir's legs while stretching her left hand towards her pouch. With a quick movement she removed the object that was inside it and hurled it up.
The stamina potion. The failed experiment that had left a hole in Farengar's roof and had melted his cauldron. The mage had told her that's she would find some use for it and he had been right.
The noble would have liked to see her creation in action, but knowing the dangers of flying shrapnel she grabbed Lydia's shield and used it to cover her head and protect her eyes.
The flask crashed against Mirmulnir's unprotected belly and the unstable substance contained inside released its impressive energy.
*Ka-Boooommm!*
The reaction was instantaneous and would have certainly killed a normal human being.
The dragon gave a shriek of pain and furiously beat his wings. He zigzagged as a drunkard trying to keep his balance and Louise had to turn and roll over her back to dodge a claw, but finally the beast collapsed on the ground.
'Serves you right, beast.'
Mirmulnir was injured, painfully supporting his weight with his wings and exhibiting some grotesque wounds on his chest, but he was still alive. The battle wasn't over yet.
Whiterun's guards observed speechless, without understanding what had happened. It was a man armed with a two-handed battle-axe the first one to react, raising his weapon high in the air and releasing a savage war cry. As predators smelling the blood shed by their prey, the others joined him and together they jumped on the enemy.
The man dropped his axe on one of Mirmulnir's legs, severing one of his claws.
Another one hop on one of its wings and torn it with his sword.
A woman, Lydia, with her hair stained with her own blood jumped on his back, grasped with one hand one of the pikes that emerged from the dragon's spine and with her sword she started stabbing.
Without wanting to be outdone, Louise picked her dagger from the ground, put it between her teeth, jumped on the dragon's tail also started stabbing one of his thighs. The attack was vicious, Mirmulnir groaned in pain, but she didn't care about that, he had to die! He had to pay for what he had…
"Fo!" Mirmulnir roared and Louise realized with horror that was an enchantment that she hadn't heard before.
"That's a new one!"
"Krah!"
A strange, white sphere formed inside the dragon's mouth, but instead of directing it at one of his attackers, Mirmulnir launched it towards the ground, making it explode with a screech of breaking glass. Immediately a white fog spread through the ground and the temperature lowered noticeable. Some men retreated, trying to outrun the strange vapor, but it was spreading too fast and soon they slipped, lost balance and fell to the floor due to the ice sheet that had formed over the grass. Those who didn't move in time soon found that the ice had grown over their boots, and had nailed them in place.
Making use of the situation, Mirmulnir spun over his legs, shaking off Lydia and slamming Louise against the side of one of the wooden wagons.
Even with an injured wing, the dragon was able to take off and gain altitude. A small part of Louise hoped that the beast had decided to withdraw, to abandon the battle and tend to his wounds, but the most cynical part of her brain warned her that this was far from over. Just seconds later, her fears were confirmed when Mirmulnir twisted his tail, using it as a tiller to turn his body.
"It's closing in for another run!" Irileth cried, but instead of a low altitude flight to incinerate them with his fire-breath, Mirmulnir remained in the air and started to bombard their position with balls of fire.
*Fum!*
*Fum!*
An explosion at Louise's right and another at her left, the guards shouted and the smell of cooked mead saturated the air.
It was Helgen all over again.
Louise jumped behind the carriage that she had crashed into and used it as shelter. She had no more weapons or options. Her sword? Destroyed. Her dagger? She still had it and her explosions could bring Mirmulnir down, but her aim with her spells was terrible and the beast had already shown that he could easily dodge her attacks. What about her bow? Still at her back, but when she checked her quiver Louise discovered that she had only a single arrow left, the rest were cracked or scattered around the place.
What to do?
She pushed her head against the carriage and a blink to her left caught her full attention. It came from one of the wooden crates that traders had been moving and was now lying half-opened on the ground.
Louise's eyes opened wide.
Could that be…?
She desperately threw herself over the box and with her bare hands started to remove the wooden planks that formed it, unconcerned for wounds or splinters.
What was inside...
What these people had been transporting…
It was iron ore, very similar to the one Farengar had used in one of their experiments, but this one much bigger. If that stone had weighed a kilo, this one weighed at least ten times that, if not more.
But, how to use it?
Louise turned her head and her eyes focused on the guard tower.
She had an idea.
Without wasting a second she sheathed her dagger, put the piece of iron between her arms and broke into a sprint.
"What are you doing?" Someone asked.
"Winning this!" Was her answer.
How had she come to this? From student of doubtful skill in one of the most prestigious academies of the continent to a more or less competent warrior in a strange and barbaric land. If someone had told her a month ago that now she would be fighting alongside elves and heretics she would have believed them to be crazy, but here she was now, Louise de la Valliére, educated and sophisticate noble, fighting with tooth and nail to save those who she should hate.
These and many other things went through her mind as she crossed the battlefield and approached the remains of the watchtower. The door was closed but she didn't waste time looking for a key, without hesitation she gritted her teeth and closed her eyes. Her shoulder crashed against the wood, shattering it under the impact and giving her space to enter the ground floor.
What she found inside was bleak.
Cold food that no one had time to even taste.
A game of cards over a barrel with four chairs around that no one would ever finish.
And a half-finished letter on a small table with a pen and an inkwell at its side. Who had been writing it? For whom? For a father? A son? A brother? Lover? That letter would never be sent now, and all because of that disgusting beast that had ended so many lives!
'I will kill him.'
There were many things inside that room, but none of them were what she was looking for.
She went up the stone stairs to the second floor; there were beds there, clothes and books, but none of that was what she needed.
She reached the third floor, where they were storing arms and ammunition. Useful for many people, but not for her.
She felt a knot in her stomach. She only had the terrace left, and if that wasn't there…
With one hand holding the iron ore she climbed up the ladder that connected to the top of the tower through a small hatch.
There she found it. Leaning against the parapet was an old and somewhat rusty training manikin.
This was what she had been looking for.
She jumped over the manikin and took it apart. The iron plate that mimicked a chestplate flew to the side and to the wooden frame Louise strapped with some leather belts the ore she had brought with her. Put the plate back in place and then set the dummy in position, it was difficult because it was heavy, but supporting it on her shoulder and pushing with her legs she managed to place it in the middle of the terrace.
'Perfect.'
With her wrist she brushed the dagger that she carried at her waist, making sure that it was there. She grabbed her bow with her left hands and with her right one she readied her last arrow. She would only have one chance, so she better made it count.
Louise walked next to the parapet and with her gaze she sought her objective.
There he was. The dragon had stopped his flight and now remained suspended about thirty meters above the ground, still bombarding the place.
That was good, that meant that there were survivors still fighting him, but how many had died already?
Louise shook her head, she couldn't do anything about that now, she had to focus on her mission. Taking a deep breath, she loaded the arrow and drew the bowstring.
Mirmulnir was some forty meters away from her; the noble had hit targets that were at sixty, but her current objective was much smaller than the straw disks that were back in the courtyard of the Companions.
Her arms were getting tired and her fingers were starting to shake, she had to fire now.
'Please help.' She offered a prayer, without caring who would answer it, aimed and then released the string.
For a few agonizing seconds Louise feared that she had failed her mark, looking at how the arrow was flying too much to the right, but in the last second a gust of wind captured the projectile and placed it back on track.
The dragon howled in pain when the iron arrow pierced his left eye.
"Yes!" Louise shook her fists in celebration observing her work; she had hit it! She had hit the great beast that… that now had turned… that was looking directly at her… and had only malice in his remaining eye. "Oh… oh shit." The dragon roared in challenge and flew to her.
The noble swallowed hard. If the dragon decided to simply incinerate her with his fire her plan would fail and she would die. If he decided to crush her under his claws her plan would fail and she would die. If he decided to destroy the tower, to attack her with some new spell, to…
'I should have thought this through first.'
Everything depended on a series of very precise steps that Louise couldn't afford to fail, but if everything went well…
The dragon faced her and opened his huge jaws. Everything fine so far. The girl let go of her bow and unsheathed her dagger.
The beast curved his body and readied his hind legs. Fortunately he wasn't aiming at the noble, but at the edge of the wall where he intended to land. Everything was still good.
Louise breathed in, breathed out and tempered her nerves; if she acted too soon the dragon would have time to change his angle of attack, and if she acted too late… well, then she wouldn't have to worry about anything else for the rest of her life.
With a blast of wind and the creaking of stones dragon landed just five meters in front of Louise. She could feel his breath, warm and moist, caressing her cheeks. In the blink of an eye, the dragon attacked with his opened mouth, hoping to devour her.
This was her moment.
Louise leaped to the right, dodging only by millimeters the teeth of her enemy and letting that terrible jaw close over the mannequin that was behind her, and over its precious cargo.
The girl rolled over the floor, straightened up, aimed with her dagger and immediately after that she had to crunch to evade the huge head that almost crushed her against the railing. The stone chipped and collapsed.
The dragon groaned, with the remains of the mannequin still stuck between his teeth, and beat his wings.
No, No! She couldn't let him escape! She couldn't miss this opportunity!
Louise stood up, climbed over the remains of the parapet and, in what later would be described as an act of bravery and heroism instead of one of madness and despair, threw herself over Mirmulnir's head.
Her left hand closed over one of his horns while with her right one she clung with two fingers to his scales to not release her dagger. The beast wrestled, shaking the girl's body from left to right, but she didn't let go; she felt the scales digging into her fingers, but she didn't lose her grip.
"You are not going anywhere." She released her bleeding right hand, changed the grip of her dagger and with all her strength she nailed it in the beast's upper gum. The dragon let out a shriek of pain while the noble channeled all her willpower, energizing each piece and fragment of ore that remained between his teeth and inside his mouth, "Son of a wore." Had he swallowed some pieces? She couldn't have been so lucky, could she? "Transmutation!"
Booooom
A tremendous explosion, the biggest one she had ever caused, threw her back, forcing her to drop her wand as a dense cloud of dust and smoke concealed her from the view of her classmates.
Something fell in front of her.
Her eyes were burning, she was dazed and blinded, but finally her sight cleared and Louise could see what was that she had summoned.
It was so beautiful.
She reached out with her hands and caressed it with her fingertips.
And she saw through eyes that weren't her own and spoke with a voice that didn't belong to her.
[Pelin-El they had named +ERROR+ her, the star-made-knight, as they believed that +ERROR+ her armor had been forged in the future times. Pelinal didn't care about any of that and marched through the jungle, killing. And +ERROR+ she came to Perrif's camp of rebels, holding a sword and a mace, both encrusted with the smashed viscera of elven faces; and pointing at the red of +ERROR+ her weapons, +ERROR+ she lifted them and said: "These were their eastern chieftains, no longer full of their talking."]
So many possibilities! So many promises!
["You have suffered for me to win this throne, and I see how you hate jungle."]
Of victory and conquest. Of madness and despair.
["Let me show you the power of Talos Stormcrown, born of the north, where my breath is long winter."]
She took the crown to her lips.
["I breathe now, in royalty, and reshape this land which is mine."]
She kissed it.
["I do this for you, Red Legion, for I love you."]
And then she felt no more.
The first thing of notice once consciousness returned to her, was the sky. So vast and majestic, domain of birds, dragons and winged men. Maybe one day they would conquer it.
The second, third and fourth things of noticed came in quick succession:
The severed head of Mirmulnir some meters above her. With the lower jaw missing the tongue was hanging in an almost comical fashion. Louise chuckled.
Then, as her body turned, she saw the mountains, old and powerful; at the highest one's peak she saw a large building. Even those ancient testaments of nature's power hadn't survived unscathed before the hand of man.
And finally, once her body finished its rotation, she saw the ground. Some thirty meters below her and approaching dangerously fast.
She didn't even have time to scream.
Her body smashed against the roof planks of the Watchtower's terrace. She tried to cover her head with her arms but that was of little help, the cracking she heard was of both broken wood and broken bones.
She shattered through the armory floor and then crashed against one of the bedroom's tables.
She stayed in that position for a few seconds, until her body turned, fell and went down the stairs.
The world spiraled around her, spinning and turning while her members tangled with every tread.
Finally her fall reached its end, with her back against the floor. One of the chests of the armory fell down, shattering the floor below and landing only centimeters away from her head. With her eyes pointing up, Louise was able to see the sky through the many holes her body had made in her passing through the construction.
She no longer felt the pain, despite the unnatural angle in which her right arm was twisted. She had stopped breathing and slowly the darkness was invading her sight.
She felt cold.
Many others would have panicked, they would have broken down in tears and would have prayed God for another chance; but if Louise had been able to, if there had still been air in her lungs to do so, she would have laughed.
Who cared if she died now? She didn't! She had made it! Where dozens of soldiers and even an elf had failed, she had been successful! She had had the will to challenge the big monster and had risen triumphant. Even if now she ceased to exist, even if she finally succumbed to her wounds, her work would endure; the carcass of the great dragon would be the evidence of her existence.
Of her success.
That she wasn't a failure.
She could rest in peace now.
But before she could exhale her last breath, someone grabbed her by the neck, opened her mouth and poured a liquid down her throat.
And then…
Then the pain started.
"Aghhhh!" Louise cried and her back arched; her entire body burned and spasmed violently as her muscles regrow and her bones were forcibly returned to their original position.
Tu-tum Tu-tum
Her breathing was agitated and someone had to put a piece of leather between her teeth so she wouldn't bit her own tongue.
Tu-tum Tu-tum
Was that… was that her heart what she was hearing? It couldn't be good to hear it so loud.
Tu-tum Tu-tum
Irileth grabbed her right arm and pulled, making her joints click.
"Aghhhh!" The girl cried again and tried to get up, but a hand of dark blue skin pressed her forehead and forced her to stay down.
"Don't move." The women ordered while with her hands covered in golden light she helped with the healing. "Control your breathing and keep calm while the potion acts."
Louise bit down the piece of leather that she had in her mouth trying to comply with what the woman had ordered her to do.
Tu-tum Tu-tum
Tu-… Tu-tum
Tu-… … -tum
…-tum
Finally the pain stopped and Louise managed to catch her breath.
"What was that?" A man standing to the left of Louise asked with a concerned face. She recognized him as the man who had been showing off his… potion of healing. 'Oh.'
"Never saw one of these in action before, Erik?" The Dunmer asked.
"No, I…" Erik replied, uncomfortably rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "I thought that those only cured you and that was all… I…"
"The healing potions," Louise recited from her position on the floor. "Act by thickens the blood, overloading it with oxygen and accelerating the heartbeats to up to one hundred and fifty beats per minute."
The man opened his eyes wide in recognition. "That… that sounds like a tachycardia!" He exclaimed.
"That's exactly it!" The Dunmer replied, putting one arm under the back of the noble and helping her to rise up. "Don't believe everything you read in those cheap adventure books people read nowadays. These things can kill as many people as they heal and you can't keep fighting after drinking one."
Feeling a little embarrassed the man knelt down and together with Irileth they put the noble back on her feet, who unable to keep her balance was forced to lean against Erik's body.
"Be careful with sudden movements." The elf informed her. "Stitches, even magical stitches, can snap if you aren't careful."
"Thank you." The girl said before turning to Erik. "The potion must have been very expensive."
"Eh, don't worry about that - totally worth it." The noble smiled kindly and the guard's face turned a light shade of pink. "Ha, if only I was fifteen again." He said in a sneering tone.
"I am sixteen." Louise cut banishing her smile.
"Eh…"
"Don't talk about it."
"I wouldn't dare."
The Dunmer was the first to come out of the Watchtower, with Louise behind her grabbing the man's arm. Immediately after crossing the threshold the noble had to cover her face as she received the full effect of the sun's light, and only after her eyes adjusted to the new lighting Louise was able to see who were waiting for her outside.
Twenty-two.
Twenty-two men and women had marched to the West Tower. Now less than ten were left. They had triumphed, but the cost had been very high.
How many dragons could be waiting for them, hidden behind the clouds? Five? Ten? Two hundred? More?
If every time they faced one of those great beasts half of the troops had to be sacrificed, how could they hope to win?
Mirmulnir had even been playing with them at the beginning. If he had taken them seriously, if he hadn't underestimated them, if only…
'No. '
No, no, and a thousand times no.
These creatures were no gods, they weren't invincible, weren't immortal. They could be defeated, they could bleed, and they could be killed!
'And I'll kill as many as it's necessary."
She was a Valliére.
She would never fight in the name of Skyrim, the Empire or the Stormcloaks.
'But I will fight for this people.'
A woman approached her and asked in a trembling voice. "Are you well?"
Louise looked her in the eye. She was Lydia, her face was tired and sad, but she had survived. "Where is it?"
The guard didn't ask what she meant by that, she understood perfectly what was the noble's question, and with the head she pointed towards her right where at the distance some large fleshy remains could be seen.
Nodding with her head Louise got loose from her companion's arm and began to walk. At first it was difficult, her limbs ached and she almost tripped and fell more than once, Lydia tried to help her, but she refused.
As she advanced the soldiers parted from her way, leaving her room to walk; many were in a state of shock, still processing what had happened. One by one she looked at them in the eyes.
The looks she was receiving. That combination of fear and respect, of terror and admiration. She had seen something like that before. Those were the eyes she had seen as a little girl in the faces of soldiers who served under her mother.
She had killed the monster, she was greater than him.
Louise knew that from that moment and to the eternity, those men and women would belong to her.
She approached the remains of the great beast, the creature so similar to the one that had tormented her in so many of her nightmares; that had haunted her since her arrival in that strange land, but had finally been defeated by her hand.
The dragon's skin tore open and light began to emanate from its bowels. The guards saw the bizarre spectacle full of awe, but Louise didn't even flinch.
"What the…" She heard one of the guards exclaiming in surprise as the remains of the monster were consumed and turned into ashes.
Her mouth opened and a growl escaped her teeth. Her conscious mind didn't understand what was happening, but her primal instincts knew the truth: what she had killed now belonged to her.
"Is that…"
As pieces of a stained glass that had shattered eons ago, lost in time and space; now two fragments had found each other, they had purged themselves in their duel and now they were one.
Now they were something different, something more powerful.
Something new.
"It cannot be."
And at that very moment, as her body was wrapped in a soft light and a hunger that she didn't know she had been suffering from was satiated, Louise understood.
"General, what's wrong?"
"Didn't you feel that, Rikke?"
"Feel what, my Jarl?"
"The wind, Galmor. The wind just changed."
She understood why she was there. She understood why she had spent so much time insisting and trying, why she had never surrendered.
Failure.
She understood that even if they broke her bones and ripped her flesh.
Useless.
Even if they crushed her legs and shattered her mind.
Zero.
She was Louise Françoise Le Blanc de la Valliére!
And she would keep
Pushing
Forwards.
"Fus."
-End of the first act-
…
A/N: The end people! The end!
…
Of the beginning!
This was a very hard month, I wanted to have this chapter posted before the end of May but my grandpa died and that pretty much killed my desire to write for a while, but now I'm back and ready for more.
Now, this chapter marks the end of Louise's adventures in Tamriel, there'll be a time skip and next chapter will start where Colbert's Interlude ended, but before that I'll write two Interludes: "A night (not) to remember" and "Kematu's side story".
If there're any doubts left let me clarify that Louise summoned the Stormcrown, which marks her as the new Ysmir.
I want to post this story at spacebattles, so if you use that forum maybe you will see me there soon.
That's all for now, see you in the next update.