Author's note: I will be out of town and on holiday hiatus for probably the next two weeks. Thanks for those of you following and happy holidays.
The Horn and Homeland: Ustengrav and Morthal
"ARN! BEHIND YOU!" screamed Lydia.
Arn rolled left just as a greatsword clanked into the stone floor where he'd been. More draugr were pouring down the ramp into the area at the bottom of a large chamber where they'd been fighting for the last few minutes.
Was there no end to these things?
Arn realized with desperation they were getting overrun. Lydia was surrounded by three of them. Arn had two in front of him and two coming up from behind and about half a dozen more were shambling down the ramp.
"FUS RO DA!" the force of the shout erupted going out from Arn, sending the two draugr in front of him along with most of the ones on the ramp flying off the side into the abyss below.
He spun around in time to block another greatsword blow with his shield, parrying the other one's axe blow with his sword.
Sidestepping left, he avoided another sword blow and came down on the draugr's arm, severing it and finishing it off with a slice across the neck.
He'd just pulled his sword free and blocked another axe blow when he felt his vision going blurry. Not now...he hadn't even seen any runes. There must be a word wall, as the Greybeards called them, somewhere close to him that he hadn't noticed before they'd been ambushed.
Now he was too close to it and images and words came rushing through his mind. He tried to resist, but that seemed to make it worse. He didn't even have time to call out for Lydia as he felt the magic seize hold of him, his vision darkening.
Fine way to die, Arn, taken out by a draugr because you're stuck staring at some rutting wall and on the first time you take Lydia with you.
There was no life flashing before his eyes as all that occupied his mind was the dragon tongue words as they imprinted themselves through the magic in his blood.
Then it was over and he was on his knees panting, staring at the moss covered stone alcove in front of him.
Spinning around, he realized Lydia was crouched next to him with a hand on his shoulder.
"Are you okay?" she asked, staring at him with those brandy brown eyes of hers.
"What do you mean 'Am I okay?' Are you okay?" he asked, turning this way and that to look at all the defeated draugrs lying dead or dead again, however you want to put it.
"I took care of them" she said, not removing her gaze from him "but what happened to you there? You didn't move or say a word for a minute there...just stared at this wall..."
"It was the dragon speech. Walls like these are etched in dragon tongue and usually the dragon blood in me reacts with them when I get close, making me lose control" he replied a bit sorrowfully.
"What exactly happens?"
"I end up learning a word or words in the dragon tongue...usually only one, but sometimes more"
"Hrm...well, do you feel alright?" she asked, looking him over as though the experience might have injured him in some way.
Arn noticed as she said it that she grimaced slightly, trying not to grit her teeth.
He turned his head and eyed her suspiciously.
"You never told me if you were fine or not"
"It's...nothing major" she replied with an obvious grimace this time.
Arn gently grabbed her by the shoulder and carefully turned her around to see a jagged cut on her hip between the back plate and leg plate of her steel armor.
"Lay down on your side" he ordered.
"But I'll be fine" she protested
"Now who's the one saying 'It's not that bad'?" he mocked in the best Lydia voice he could muster.
She realized with a smile she was beaten and lay down as he removed a couple of potions and tried to move the armor aside to get at the cut.
After fumbling awkwardly for a few minutes, Lydia finally huffed, reached down and with a grimace shoved her armored leggings and breeches down to her thighs, exposing the creamy white skin of her midsection.
Unfortunately, the cut had delved right into where her smallpants went around the side. So when she shoved her breeches down, her smallpants came loose with them, leaving her naked from waist to thigh.
An intoxicating view marred only by the nasty cut Arn had been trying to get at.
Focus on the cut, Arn. Focus on the cut, he thought as he tried to resist taking in the firm curves of her buttocks and hip down to what her womanhood might look like.
"You didn't really have to do that" he muttered, trying not to sound interested or betray how hardened his cock was beginning to get.
"You were taking your sweet time, besides, these are useless and uncomfortable now" she replied, reaching down and pulling loose the cut smallpants and tossed them off into the abyss.
"Don't waste any potions if we don't have to. I trust your restoration stuff" she said in a very nonchalant manner.
"Yeah, but I need to put something on it to prevent disease infection"
"Fine" she grimaced slightly as he dabbed on the contents of a potion.
Once he was finished, he slowly set his hand on her hip, the bluish light of his healing spell lighting up the darkness more than he'd thought it would, making him glance around to make sure nothing was suddenly appearing.
When he looked back to her, she had her eyes scrunched shut, biting her lip. The healing shouldn't hurt.
"Are you okay? Is something I did hurting more?" he asked with some concern.
Arn realized by now the cut was completely gone on the surface and he had been dragging his hand caressingly with the bluish healing light across from the top of her thigh to the top curve of her buttock and then back again.
"No, no, no. It's...fine...just...a little...more" she seemed to gasp.
Arn realized she wasn't in pain at all. She was...pleased by his touch...a lot. He also realized his cock was straining against his own armored breeches.
"That-uh-should be good-I think" he said, abruptly pulling away.
Get a hold of yourself, Arn, you fool. It's only been three days since you were rutting with Aela in the woods and you're already starting with this again.
"Yeah-uh-it's much better, I think too" she stuttered, sitting up and turning away from him in a sudden display of modesty, though it still left him with a complete view of her buttocks as she pulled her breeches back up.
"By the way, exactly how many draugr did you have to kill while I was standing here stupefied?" Arn asked, both genuinely curious and anxious to find some other subject to get his mind on.
"Well...um...six, I think" she replied a little sheepishly as they collected their gear.
"Six?! Wow, I guess I really owe you one" he exclaimed.
"No, you don't, silly. I'm your housecarl, remember. It's my job to save your arse, especially when it's standing there staring stupefied at everything" she smirked at him, feeling pretty good about finally venturing into somewhere along with him.
He eyed her mischievously but before he could come up with any retort, she continued in a little more serious tone.
"Besides, if you're really keeping tally, I'm pretty sure it would take me a long time to catch up on all the ones I owe you"
"Now, now, no more talk about that" he replied, not wanting her to think about what happened to her at all. "We really should push on and get this blasted horn the Greybeards want"
TWO HOURS LATER
"Damn it!" Arn yelled, kicking a skull across the platform and skipping off into the water on either side of the ramp to get to the pedestal they were at.
"What did the note say?" asked Lydia
"Some rutting fool took the horn and wants me to go all the way back to Riverwood Inn to get it! TO PROVE MYSELF!"
"Did they give a name?"
"No! Just signed...a friend" he sneered in a mocking tone.
He huffed in anger, kicked the rib cage of the aforementioned skeleton again and sat down, frustrated beyond belief.
"What is it with these people?! The Greybeards won't tell me anything because they don't trust me. Whoever this is lets me travel halfway across Skyrim, only to demand I go all the way back to prove myself to them. Jarl Balgruuf heralds me with title and lands but refuses to tell me anything about...ah! Damn them all!" he yelled again in anger echoing into the crypt they'd spent a day clearing.
He realized as he put his head in his hands, massaging the headache of frustration that Lydia sat down next to him, a hand on his shoulder.
"Well, I can't speak for those people, but I trust you and I'm sure eventually others will see that you're exactly the man they need for these kinds of times...I'm not sure my saying so matters, but well...there it is" she said, looking into his eyes with a reassuring smile with her hand now at the base of his neck, consciously or subconsciously caressing the small locks of hair there.
Arn didn't say anything but her saying so did help...a lot. From wanting to just go kill the first person he came across, he felt more relaxed and the stress of wondering why people kept treating him this way was suddenly forgotten.
He pondered in silence for awhile, Lydia continuing her massaging of his neck as he thought.
"You know, we're not that far from Morthal. I grew up just to the northwest of there. I think it would be nice to see what it's like now. Maybe find old friends...maybe find some people that rutting trust me for once" he stated, rising to his feet with purpose.
"We could also use the opportunity to resupply" said Lydia, going to fetch the packs.
"Hopefully, the place isn't as much a disaster as the rest of Skyrim" said Arn wistfully, several childhood memories coming to mind.
Later that night, Arn sat by the bedrolls with Lydia's head in his lap as she slept. Sometimes she slept fine, like when they were in Breezehome, but when they were out in the wilds, she typically didn't and he would hold her hand or keep her head in his lap to shoo away the nightmares.
He wasn't uncomfortable about it anymore. Tonight though, his thoughts went back to his childhood.
Growing up in the swamps north of Morthal, he'd had plenty of adventures getting chased by a Spriggan or trying to trap a mudcrab but still fairly harmless compared to what seemed to be the perils of the roads these days.
The next day, Arn found himself in much better spirits at the thought of arriving in Morthal and seeing some old but known faces.
As they travelled through a pass toward the ravine Morthal lay housed in, Lydia's questions interrupted his reverie.
"So who was Jarl here when you left?"
"Sigmund Ravencrone...though, I heard about his death some time ago from another Nord in Cyrodiil."
"Idgrod Ravencrone has been the Jarl for awhile now"
"What? They made Idgrod the Jarl?" Arn asked incredulously.
"Yes, why?"
"Well, when I was a boy, she was a bit...well odd. Even though she was the Jarl's wife, no one knew quite what to make of her, though she was always nice to me. It was stuff about magic and visions that she would talk about that seemed to put people off."
"What did she used to say?"
"I don't know. I was a boy. I wasn't interested or even knew much about what visions or magic things people discussed."
"Anyone else there you might still kno-" her question cut short as they both fell silent to the unmistakable bellowing of a dragon echoed in the distance.
"No, not Morthal too..." Arn hissed, picking up speed.
They came over the last hill and looked down into the valley below to see a large red dragon sitting atop one of the larger structures breathing fire and smoke at the scurrying dots of people.
"Potions only!" shouted Arn as they both dropped their packs and started sprinting.
Lydia had the potions separated in a separate pouch so when she dropped her pack, she retained that pouch and kept pace with Arn.
It seemed like eternity and Arn's heart stung at every scream or yell he heard as they ran down the hill into the town.
As they arrived, Arn saw the dragon lunge down and snap a guardsman whole into its jaws as several others scrambled, firing arrows that mostly missed or plinked off plaiting, not finding their mark.
"AIM FOR THE WINGS! BRING IT DOWN!" bellowed Arn as he took several potions from Lydia and poured them over the steel armor he wore.
The dragon swooped off the building top and across the small lake in the middle of town, crashing through the roof into a house opposite and snapping up whoever was unlucky enough to be hiding inside.
Arn looked at the scene of chaos around him, fires raging on almost every building, a few bodies mangled and burnt here and there, guards huddled at the corners of buildings scurrying around enough to fire their bow before retreating, the smoke billowing out of two completely destroyed houses and townspeople huddled or scurrying this way and that.
"GET THEM INTO THE LAKE! GET THE PEOPLE INTO THE WATER!" continued Arn, Lydia repeating him, beginning to usher the people huddled in place into the lake as Arn circled toward the dragon.
Arn continued yelling at people, even as he knocked and fired arrow after arrow into the dragon's right wing.
It only took about four arrows before it turned directly toward him, jaws gleaming crimson with blood and lunged through the wooden front of the house directly toward him.
Arn tried to line up a shot on its head, maybe even an eye shot and let fly, but the arrow hit just below its eye, though the impact near such a tender area cause it to momentarily recoil, giving Arn time to draw sword and shield.
Then the dragon belched flame. Arn was going to jump off into the lake, but had an idea and figured this was the best time as any to test the enchantments he'd paid Farengar to put on the steel armor in combination with the potions he'd drenched himself with.
Ordinarily, the Dragon's fiery breath would melt to a crisp whoever stood in its path particularly for any length of time. Not this time, though.
Arn crouched down, shield in front, the flames parting around him, the aura of magic visible to him along with the vapors of flame resistance of the potions he'd used.
He heard Lydia screaming his name frantically from across the lake partway and hoped she wasn't too terrified for his safety. They had talked about this plan before, just not when he would employ it.
Just as he was starting to feel his armor heating up and starting to burn underneath, the dragon let up, suddenly a lot closer and surprised Arn was not a pile of ash.
Arn sprinted forward, his whole armor still wreathed in flames from the aftermath of fiery breath.
Before the dragon could move or react, he stabbed directly into its face, aiming for the eye, but instead got the nostril when the dragon recoiled a little.
It recoiled its head up into the air before Arn had a chance to pull the sword out. At the sudden jerk of a stop up in the air, both Arn and his sword came dislodged from the dragon and continued flying up and backward.
He was probably thirty feet in the air now.
Not good.
He caught a glimpse of Lydia closing from the left of his view, still firing arrows.
Then he crashed into an unexpectedly soft landing in the straw matting of the roof of the Jarl's longhouse.
Just as he was thankful for the straw, though, the back of his head met a wooden beam very hard, a resounding crack ringing through his helmet.
That was gonna hurt in the morning.
As he got his footing, the dragon took wing and flew directly at him, intending to land on him feet claws first.
Arn took two steps back, then waited a second to get what he thought the distance was right as the dragon was almost on him.
"WULD NA KEST!"
Arn exploded in a whirlwind sprint straight into the dragon, blade first, the force of movement helping plunge the lightning crackling blade to the hilt into the dragon's torso right where the neck met the chest plating of the dragon.
"NOOOOOOAAAAAA DOVAAAAAKKKHHHHIIIINNN!" growled the dragon as the power of the hit snapped it backward in midair, sending it crashing backward to the ground, shredding a dock, the broken wood cutting and impaling it in several spots, Arn riding it down with a firm grasp on his sword.
Before it could even flail or recover, Arn had removed his sword and charged its head.
It barely had time to right itself onto all fours amidst the wreckage of the dock and shallow water as Arn leaped onto its neck, plunging his blade down through its head.
It immediately shuddered slightly and then stilled with a collapse.
Arn stood astride its neck, gasping for breath as he immediately looked around to find Lydia running towards him with relief.
Not surprisingly, everyone in view was staring at him and the dragon.
"Are you okay?" she asked, mirroring the smile he had, they always had after defeating something like this.
Arn realized then there were still flames flaring up here and there on his armor.
"Well, it did its job, though I still feel a little sizzle" he remarked, causing her to frown a little and rummage through the pouch for a potion.
"Don't...save it for one of them" Arn said, motioning his hand around to the town "I have a feeling there's a lot of people that will need it"
"Right" said Lydia, scurrying away to help the guards as they helped people out of the lake and burning buildings and some were already setting up bucket lines from the lake to put out the fires.
As Arn caught his breath and moved off the dragon back toward the Jarl's longhouse, he kneeled again, feeling the pain in the back of his head from that beam.
He looked up to see an elderly woman in nice garb with a sweet smile on her face.
"Welcome, Flamewalker" she said in a squeaky but sure voice.
"Wh-What?" asked Arn as he was suddenly aware of the growing sound of wind coming from behind him where the dragon was.
"The one who walks in flames...I saw your coming..." was all Arn heard her say before the magic of the soul absorption seized him, lifting him in the air and filling his mind with images, some of them horrifying as he saw people chewed and devoured.
Instead of coming back out of it though, his mind went blank and he passed out.