A R I K

He waited for her at the base of the Throat, huddled on the steps as the wind and snow whipped around him in a colourless flurry.

Arngeir had already come and gone, unable to offer any answers beyond the fact the old dragon had not harmed Fina. Still, he had devised a hundred scenarios in his mind as to what could be happening at the top of the mountain and the majority of them ended badly.

When finally he heard the crunch of her boots on the snow, the sun was beginning to set. He turned to her, relieved to see there was a smile on her face.

"Well?"

She reached out and took his hands.

"You're frozen." She replied, lifting his fingers to her lips. "Yol."

"Don't waste your energy." He retorted, but as the hot air rushed over them and up into his arms and chest, he was grateful.

Fina smirked, knowing she'd won. "He gave me a name. And the Shout."

Arik felt his body relax. "The Shout?"

"Geh. Dragonrend." She replied, pushing at the head of her cape. It seemed to Arik that she hadn't stopped adjusting the heavy thing since she'd gotten it. He reached out and helped her straighten it.

Fina grinned, and the look filled him with contagious elation. It was excellent news, and gave her a far better chance than they could have hoped. He wrapped his arms around her, only to come face to face with the bear.

"Daar hinksaal kodaav!" He grunted, pulling back. She laughed, unclasping the cape and lifting it free, setting it on the steps beside them and then reaching up to throw her arms around his neck.

Fina's nose was cold as she nuzzled against his neck, but the kiss she pressed there was warm enough to make up for it. A fresh eruption of longing broke out throughout his being and his grip on her tightened. She must have felt it too, because she lifted her head to look at him.

Arik cursed his sight, wishing he could take in both of her beautiful eyes at the same time and watch them both as they watched him. She kissed him, and her lips were rough and dry from the wind, but they tasted of Fina and that was enough to clear his thoughts of all his worry, fear and pain.

Just then, the courtyard doors opened behind them. Arik reluctantly let her go and they turned, seeing Ulfric headed towards them.

"What news?" He asked, watching as Fina bent to retrieve her cape. She tucked it over her arm and told him what Paarthurnax had said.

"Excellent!" Ulfric seemed in good spirits again, and slung an arm around her shoulders, steering her towards the doors. Arik fell into step behind them, but Fina stretched out her hand behind her, reaching for him.

He gratefully laced their fingers together and followed them inside.

They found Arngeir and Esbern within, deep into an animated discussion. Once Fina told them the news, the two old men pulled everyone into the kitchen and informed them they had an announcement to make.

"We have decided to join forces in an attempt to breathe new life into both the Greybeards and the Blades." Arngeir explained.

"You...what?" Ulfric voiced all of their thoughts.

Arik felt his mind churn and pressed his back against the wall. What?

"We're going to combine the Way of the Voice with the physical training of the Blades in an attempt to teach peaceful negotiation with the dov, while still being able to defend the people of Skyrim."

Arik gaped at them, shaking his head.

"Not that I disagree," Fina interjected, "But didn't you just dispel Arik for breaking vows that you now - if I understand correctly - intend to completely forsake?"

Arngeir paled a little at that, glancing nervously at Arik, who couldn't return his gaze. He looked down, clenching his hands into fists. He couldn't regret how things had turned out, but the fact that Arngeir was now so ready to accept modern ways into his practise, when a month ago he had been so rigid? It stung him.

"I regret how I handled the situation." Arngeir said with some difficulty. "Recent events have shown me the error of my ways, and I know that things must change in order to preserve the Way and to protect the people of Skyrim and, well, Tamriel for that matter." He sighed and sunk down to one of the benches, folding his hands before him.

Arik could feel the Elder's eyes on him.

Fina crossed her arms. "It does make sense. I am surprised the two of you have agreed to it so quickly."

"We are out of time to seek other alternatives. I am the last Blade in existence, and there are only four remaining Greybeards." Esbern put in. "I will stay here while we work to develop our plan. When the time comes, we will ask Klimmek to help with recruitment. I will also need to send for my books…"

"Sweet Talos." Ulfric muttered. "The books!"

Fina threw her hands up. "I cannot take anymore news today!" She walked past them and out the door, shaking her head.

Ulfric chuckled, engaging the two men in further discussion as Arik hurried to follow her.

He caught up to her in their room, wrapping his arms about her waist from behind and resting his chin on her shoulder. She sighed, leaning her head back against his chest.

"I guess Balgruuf and I are leaving for Whiterun, then."

"Hmm." He grunted, dreading that he would not be going with her.

She turned in his arms so that they were face to face. "Will you wait in Windhelm for me?"

"Geh." He brushed the hair from her face and smiled. "Zu fen pek. I will wait. Where else?" Arik kissed her and her arms tightened.

"Tell me I can do this."

He tilted her chin up so she was forced to look him in the eye. "Hi fen imzik mok bolog fah aaz, Dovahkiin. You will make him beg for mercy."

Fina shivered at his words, but seemed to calm some. "I love you."

"And I love you." He whispered back, brushing his lips across hers again.

"Fina!" Ulfric was calling. "Jarl Balgruuf is leaving."

She groaned, but neither of them let go, not until they heard steps outside the door. Fina moved to collect her things as Ulfric entered, and after a quick squeeze of her hand, Arik left them.

F I N A

"Balgruuf is a good man, but keep your wits about you. Fight well. You were born for this. You will make us all proud."

Fina turned to look at him, wishing she could have disappeared in the night and avoided saying goodbyes. Ulfric was guarded, and she could tell he was holding himself back. She settled the bear's head in his arms and snapped into attention.

"I will serve Skyrim and the true Nords, my Jarl!"

Ulfric smiled fondly and set the furs aside, drawing her into his arms. His grip on her was so restrictive that her arms were locked to her sides and she could not breathe.

"I will see you soon, niece."

"Soon." She promised. "Tell Jarl Balgruuf I won't be long. I just need to change."

Ulfric nodded and let her go, leaving the room before either of them could say another word.

Arik came back in quietly and sat on the bed, watching as she packed her things and then stripped out of the heavy fur of her officers uniform. She turned to him when she was in nothing but her small clothes, brushing back the dark hair from his face and fixing the strap of his eyepatch.

He is too young and too beautiful to have had this happen. She thought, touching gently at the slightly puckered ridge of his scar. The last they had checked his eye, the swelling had gone down, but the ball itself was still milky and it's honey colour missing, as if it had been erased.

Arik ran his hands down her sides to the top of her thighs, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to the centre of her stomach. Fina hugged him, feeling his breath and tears hot against her bare skin. They stayed like that for some time, until the cold air had stolen the warmth from her body and she began to shiver. She disentangled herself from him and he hastily wiped at his eye and cheek.

Fina bent and kissed him, and then quickly changed into some civilian clothing. When she turned back, he offered her an embarrassed smile.

"Everything will be fine, Arik."

"I know, I just told you that."

She laughed, and shouldered her pack, reaching out for him. He took her hand, and together they headed for the main hall.

It wasn't until Fina had said the rest of her goodbyes and was outside with Jarl Balgruuf and Irileth that they informed her Elenwen would be traveling with them to Whiterun.

The elf was waiting, wearing the same sharply tailored robes and the practised look to match.

Fina's immediate reaction was disgust. She stopped on the spot, hand immediately flying to the hilt of her sword.

"This was not part of the arrangement."

"It was not excluded from the arrangement, either." Elenwen replied, shrugging her shoulders elegantly. She stood a good head taller than Fina and she was forced to look up in order to glare at her.

"I should have expected no less from your kind, I suppose." Fina snarled, taking a step closer.

Irileth drew her sword, taking a step towards them. An instant later, so did Fina.

"Dragonborn, please!" Jarl Balgruuf said desperately, pushing himself between them. "We have only just agreed to peace. Elenwen is simply on her way to Riverwood on business and asked if she could travel that direction with our party and observe the capture of the dragon."

He is right.

Begrudgingly, Fina sheathed her sword and took several steps back. "Stay away from me." She barked at the Altmer who bowed her head.

"As you wish, Dragonborn."

Balgruuf gave Irileth a look and she sheathed her blade as well.

"I will follow behind." Fina said decidedly, hanging back until the others had passed her. Irileth took the lead and Balgruuf and Elenwen walked side by side in the middle.

Gritting her teeth, Fina followed.

When they arrived in Ivarstead, she stocked up on stamina potions.

There is no way I am going to sleep with that elf bitch around.

Balgruuf insisted that they hire a carriage for the remainder of their journey, which meant she was left to sit and glare at Elenwen. Which she did. For hours. Relentlessly.

If it bothered the Altmer, she didn't show it - much to Fina's disappointment. She would have loved to see her squirm.

They were a half day away from Whiterun when she could feel the distinct pull of a Word Wall.

"We have to stop." She said, standing up in the carriage and almost falling out the back when they jolted to a standstill.

"What is it?" Balgruuf asked.

"A Word Wall."

"What is that?"

"I don't have time to explain, but it very likely means a dragon." She dropped from the back, grabbing her bow. "Pull the carriage over to the side, in the shelter of those trees. Stay there."

Fina started walking in the direction of the pull, feeling the faint tug of the ancient chanting voices in the back of her mind. She stopped and glanced back.

"Irileth?"

"I'm with you." The Dunmer confirmed, drawing her sword and following in a crouch.

She nodded her thanks, and took off at a low run.

Before long, the curved wall of stone emerged in a clearing. Perched above, was a dragon. She stopped short, dropping low to the ground and threw up her hand, motioning for Irileth to stop beside her.

Without a bow, the Dunmer was fairly useless against a dragon.

But that was before I had Dragonrend…

"I will use a Shout that keeps the dragon locked to the ground. Sneak around to a position you can reach it's side without it being able to get ahold of you. I'll keep it distracted." She whispered, and Irileth nodded.

Fina readied her bow, and moved so she faced the dragon head on. She shot straight for it's head, hitting it in the nose. As soon as the beast looked at her, she stood to her full height and braced herself.

"JOOR ZAH FRUL!" A burst of blue light erupted from her and covered the beast entirely in a glowing shroud.

The dragon tried to flap it's wings, but they wouldn't move. With a cry of absolute terror - something completely foreign and bone-chilling coming from a dragon - it dropped from it's perch on the wall and was forced to the ground as if something heavy held it in place.

Something about this situation made Fina feel sick with guilt, but she couldn't stop now; she had to follow through. She swallowed hard and knocked another arrow into place, shooting several of them at the dragon's head.

Irileth made her move, sneaking along the side of the dragon's body, ducking it's tail and moving up along his sensitive underbelly.

The dragon tossed it's head, keeping Fina's arrows from hitting anything too vital. It gave another cry of fear, but it was quickly developing into angry frustration. It was then that it turned on her, aiming a blast of icy air in her direction. Fina barely managed to dive out of the way.

Taking this as her opportunity, Irileth hefted her sword and drove it into the creature's side, twisting the blade and dragging it along as far as she could manage. The dragon keened, thrashing madly against the blue force that still kept it restrained.

Irileth withdrew her sword and stabbed a second time and then a third. The dragon fell still, collapsing. The Dunmer withdrew her sword and fell to her knees heaving. Fina stared at the dragon, feeling nothing but despair and grief.

It was still alive, but only barely. It turned it's eyes on her, massive orbs of copper that stingingly reminded her of Arik's.

"Vahr, Briinahi? Vahr?" His chest hissed and rumbled as he struggled to get the words out. Fina - against her better judgement - dropped her bow and went to him, kneeling by his head and lifting it into her lap. "Vahr?" He asked her again.

"Krosis, Zeymahi. Zu'u dreh ni mindok aanvorey strah." She whispered, as he died. "I do not know another way."

His soul flowed into her and she trembled, wondering at how she had felt so thirsty for dragon blood to begin with, but now she was beginning to dread each time she had to fight them. She could feel them all within, trembling along with her as another fallen zeymah joined them.

"Dragonborn?" It was Irileth, covered in the black of dragon blood, wiping her sword clean in the grass.

"Just a moment." The head she held was nothing more than bone now, and so she settled it aside and retrieved her bow. "Wait here."

Fina walked to the Wall and placed her hand upon the word. As the voices entered her mind to teach her, she squeezed her eyes shut and let them take over.

Tiid klo ul. Time, sand, eternity.

"Tiid klo ul." She whispered to herself, returning to Irileth.

"Let's go." She said, returning her bow to it's place on her back.

"Dragonborn, what did the beast say? Var? Vair?"

Fina glanced at her, her expression tight. "It asked me 'why'. Vahr. Why."

Irileth didn't respond.

When they reached Whiterun, Fina insisted that they didn't waste any time and that she call the dragon immediately. .

"Shouldn't you take time to rest?" Balgruuf asked, allowing his servants to remove his travel cloak and pack and bring him some hot spiced wine and food.

"The sooner I do this, the sooner we can ensure the people of Tamriel are safe."

"As you wish, Dragonborn." He shook his head, and paused to sit on his throne and change his boots.

Elenwen was hovering annoyingly close and Fina shot her a look, stalking past and jarring her out of the way with her shoulder. They followed her up the stairs, with the Jarl barking orders to his men to prepare the dragon trap.

Upstairs, Fina dug in her pack and downed another stamina potion.

"How long can you keep up your tough soldier act on potions alone?" Elenwen asked, her accent smooth and alarmingly close to Fina's ear.

She jumped, turning so quickly her head swam.

"Long enough." She snapped, thrusting the empty bottle into the Altmer's hands. "How long can you keep your hair looking so perfect and shiny?"

Elenwen laughed and the noise was razor sharp.

Fina cursed herself, knowing her comment was petty and only further emphasized the fact she was running on stamina alone. Not waiting for an answer, she followed Irileth and Balgruuf out back.

When they had the trap sprung, she had everyone climb the steps and ready themselves at the sides, in case something should go awry.

Standing at the mouth of the balcony, she Shouted.

"ODAHVIING!" And waited.

She didn't imagine the dragon would be close, so she wasn't sure how long it would take. Fina stood still and scanned the skies. No movement on the horizon. No dragon screeching in reply. No feeling at all. Silence. Stillness.

There was a rustling of robes behind her, and she could hear someone hurrying down the steps.

How long is this meant to take? She sighed, hands on her hips. The footsteps were growing closer behind her, but she didn't pay them any mind.

This has to work. It has to.

Something on the horizon caught her eye, a moving shape. She squinted…

Just a bird.

Someone grabbed her arm like a vice and spun her around.

Elenwen. She freed her arm with a growl.

"What?" She snapped.

"What name did you call?"

"Odahviing." Fina's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"

Just then, it felt like something hit her hard in the stomach. She reached out, bracing herself on the stone railing of the balcony. Her mind was taken over, just as it had been when Paarthurnax showed her the vision of the Blades and when they sent Alduin forward in time.

She could see a vast cavern of stone, illuminated from by rays of light, strained through a metal grate over the hole above. Blood and water pooled in the bottom, thick and foul and putrid. A dragon was hunched in one corner, limbs bound in chains, stakes through the quivering, bruised membrane of it's wings pinning him to the ground. There was a heavy metal contraption around it's mouth, keeping it's jaw locked shut. It was alone and shaking, emaciated, afraid.

Immediately she knew it.

Odahviing?

His eyes flickered. Dovahkiin?

Geh. Is this real?

You have called, but I cannot come.

He was shivering, clearly in pain. There were cuts along his legs and underbelly. He had been tortured.

Where are you? Who has done this?

Alduin learned of my intended betrayal. I do not agree with his plans. He has convinced the joor, the mortals, that he will work with them in the kein, the war. In return, they are to capture you for him.

Joor? The Imperials?

Geh. The one who keeps me, the fahliil, the elf. She will take you.

Elenwen.

Geh, geh. The vision was beginning to slip, and Fina could see both the cavern and the balcony she stood on, could see Elenwen advancing on her, but she needed more information. She couldn't let it go, not yet.

Where do they have you, Odahviing?

I do not know. Near their capital. Free me, Dovahkiin, and I will stand at your side until the end of days.

Hi lost dii rot. You have my word, Zeymahi.

Kogaan, Briinahi.

The vision diminished to nothingness and Fina gasped, sucking in air as Elenwen was upon her, grasping her by the shoulders.

"What happened?" The Altmer said, and Fina saw her cool exterior drop for the first time. Rage flared inside of her, and she let it explode, winding up, Fina raised her fist and punched the elf square in the jaw, sending her staggering back.

She heard Balgruuf and Irileth react above her, and Elenwen readied her fists with magic. Just as the sparks were flying towards her, Fina steadied herself and Shouted.

"TIID KLO UL!" The sparks stopped in their tracks, and Fina easily stepped out of the way. She gathered her things and hurried past everyone, out the doors and through the main hall. Evidently the Shout had affected all of Dragonsreach, because time didn't return to normal until she was heading down the steps and back towards the marketplace.

So much for peace.

S Y R A

When she could not take one day more of Cicero constantly being at her elbow and breathing down her neck, Syra found an excuse to visit Whiterun. That excuse, of course, was a contract.

Her true reason, was her promise to Ljorn that she would check on him...not to mention the guilt she still harboured that he had nearly died because of her own personal affairs.

She arrived in the night, and finished her work with a habitual efficiency. When she finished, she meant to sneak to Jorrvaskr and try to catch him outside alone - but then thought better of it. She sincerely doubted that after what happened he would be outside or alone at night very often. She also doubted he would be pleased to see anyone wearing Dark Brotherhood attire, even if it was her.

So instead, she stole a simple blue linen dress from a clothesline and spent the night tucked up in the high branches of a tree. When the sun rose, she hastily changed into the dress and stowed her shroud behind a rock.

Shadowmere stood patiently by the tree and she passed him an apple from the saddlebag. "Wait here for me."

The dress fit her well, but having the skirts felt strange and unnecessary. They tangled around her legs when she walked and were quite cumbersome. If anything went wrong, it would take her a long time to get away. She strapped a dagger to her thigh.

The neckline of the dress was lower than she was used to, but she let her hair fall loose down her front which helped to cover it some. The whole outfit, paired with her lack of cowl and mask made her feel like she was naked.

It will have to do. I must be entirely insane for this. She told herself as she made her way through the market, sure everyone was secretly staring at her, even if they seemed to just be going about their business as usual.

She headed up the steps to Jorrvaskr, hoisting the skirts just a little too high, and showing just a little too much of her boots to be polite for a lady. Not that she was bothered much.

How do women wear these? How did I ever wear these?

Taking a deep breath, Syra pushed open the door. Several of the Companions were mulling around the table, shoving at the food and already starting at the mead and ale. Only one of them - a striking woman with bright auburn hair - looked up at her.

"Can I help you?" She asked, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.

Fighting to keep the defensiveness out of her voice, Syra took a few steps towards the table. "I was looking for Ljorn."

You're the orphan, Syra. The little girl. Naive little Syra with the bright eyes and easy smile.

"He's an old friend. From the orphanage." She added, putting on her best smile for good measure.

Aela nodded, but still seemed a little skeptical. Understandably so - they must all be a little more protective of him since the incident.

"He is just out back, polishing armour." She tossed her head in the direction of the doors behind her.

"Thank you." Syra dipped her head and then crossed in the direction the woman indicated.

Outside, she took a deep breath, wondering at how putting on a dress and going to visit a friend could make her more nervous than completing an assassination.

Ljorn looked up as she came out, eyes lighting on her. There was no recognition in his expression as he looked her up and down.

"Hello…?" He said, putting aside the heavy steel boot he'd been rubbing away at with a polishing rag.

Syra hugged herself, wondering if this had been a good idea. She took a couple of hesitant steps toward him.

"You don't recognise your future bride, then?" Her voice shook a little.

"Syra?" His big brown eyes widened as he took her in. "Don't tell me you've le-"

She shook her head before he could get his hopes up. "Just a disguise." She gestured to the dress and came to sit on the wooden bench beside him.

"Oh."

"How are you?" Syra asked, looking him over. He looked thinner than the last time she'd seen him, but his face was bright with colour and it was good to see he was out and doing things.

"Ah, it would take more than three arrows to get me. Maybe five or six and there would have been a problem." He shrugged nonchalantly and Syra was caught between being grateful for his lightness and wanting to shake him into giving her a serious answer.

She smiled a little at his words. "Right, of course."

"How about you? How is the killing business?"

Syra tensed at his words. Ljorn had never spoken harshly to her about her line of work before, although she'd known he wasn't happy about it. She looked away, more hurt than she'd care to admit.

This was a mistake. I should have kept away and let him be angry at me.

Ljorn wiped his hands clean on the rag and set it aside. He sighed and reached out, brushing some of the golden hair from her shoulder and over her back, so that her face was exposed to him.

"You're getting ready to run." He said decidedly. "You didn't like what I said and you're thinking you shouldn't have come here, so you're trying to figure out the best escape route. Tell me I'm wrong."

She looked at him, angry. Angry because he was right, angry because even after everything that had happened he could still see through everything she did. Furious.

"So go." He shrugged. "I'm alive, you've seen that. I polish boots now, because I can't fight." Ljorn gestured to the boot. "I sharpen swords. Sometimes they even let me go to the market and buy things for them." He laughed bitterly.

What have I done?

Syra plucked at her skirts, not knowing how to respond. Ljorn reached behind him to grab a flagon of - from the smell - ale. He took a swig of it and then set it aside again.

"Well, - "

"I met the Dragonborn." The words seemed to come out on their own. "And I saw Arik. He couldn't keep his vows, I guess, because he fell in love with her - the Dragonborn, Fina - and the Greybeards kicked him out. I saw them in Ivarstead. I had to warn them, because someone was going to betray them." As she spoke, Syra picked up the boot and the polishing cloth, taking over where Ljorn had left off.

"Arik didn't know it was me, of course. It was so strange to see him, all grown." She caught her reflection in the face of the boot and frowned, pausing for a moment, and seeing how much older and sadder she looked. "When I returned to our hideout, it turns out our leader, Astrid, had betrayed us to the Imperials. It was her lover who tried to kill you. They ransacked the place and killed all but four of us."

Ljorn had grown still beside her and she glanced at him, seeing the look of shock mixed with worry on his face. She set down the polished boot and picked up it's mate, starting to work on it instead.

"But that wasn't the worst of it. Not ten minutes after I returned to find most of my friends dead, I learned that the person who betrayed Fina was heading to the Imperials with information that could benefit them in the war." She paused, catching her breath. "After what the Imperials had just done to us, I couldn't let that happen. I left immediately, and caught up with them just outside of Solitude." She was polishing the same section of the boot so furiously now that Ljorn had to stop her hands and take the boot and cloth away. He set them down and took her shaking hands in his own.

"I don't know what I was thinking. I was half mad. They would have killed me, if my horse hadn't trampled them first. Fina found me half dead, thank Sith-" She swallowed. "Thank the Divines."

Sithis will not thank you for that! The Night Mother put in haughtily. Syra ignored her.

"I woke up in Windhelm, and Arik was there." She glanced at him, seeing some of his rigidness had disappeared.

"Arik and the Dragonborn?"

"Yes."

"And they're in love?"

Syra nodded.

"They fought while I was there, but even then...Yes, very much so." She nodded. "To a nearly disgusting degree."

Ljorn laughed gently and then sighed. "I'm still angry at you."

"Good."

"But, I am glad you're okay. I was worried about you."

Syra met his eyes now, tentatively lifting a hand and pulling down the collar of his tunic so she could see the scar on his shoulder where the arrow had hit.

"I'm fine, Syra. Really. Danica said I'll be back to swordplay in a few weeks." He tugged her hand from his chest up around his neck so he could hug her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and Syra let him, but only for a moment before she pulled back again.

"They all think I've got some kind of secret lover now, you know." He said, playfully hitting her shoulder.

"What?" Syra could feel heat rise in her cheeks.

"Ah, did you think I wouldn't remember you kissing me?"

Just then, they heard the echo of a Shout burst across the air.

"ODAHVIING!"

"What was that?" Ljorn asked, standing up to look.

Fina?

Syra turned towards Dragonsreach. "That had to have been Fina. What is she doing here?"

Night Mother?

I have had my full attentions on the Brotherhood, little one. I could not spare time to the Dragonborn.

Syra groaned. "I should see what's going on."

"I'll come with you." Ljorn picked up a nearby sword and attached the belt around his waist.

"Your wounds, Ljorn." Syra said sternly.

"Shut up, assassin." He said, poking her side.

She smacked his hand away, hurrying around the outside of the building and down the front steps, towards the market. As she got there, she heard another Shout.

"That has to be her." The skirt around her was more than annoying and she hiked it up, drawing the dagger from her thigh and using it to slice the skirt up the sides so she had more freedom to move.

"Have you no sense of propriety!" An old woman barked at her as she passed. Syra paid her no mind.

"You were meant for me, woman." Ljorn declared and she shot him a glowering look, moving through the crowd and towards the palace.

She could see Fina now, hurrying down the steps like she had the Void at her back.

"Fina!" She cried, reaching out and grabbing her by the arm. The Dragonborn looked weather-worn and had the tell-tale dark circles under her eyes that suggested she was running on stamina potions.

"Syra?" She drew up short, looking flustered.

"What's going on? Where is Arik?"

"Arik? Headed to Windhelm. Safe." Fina looked over her shoulder. "I need to get out of here. Now. I need to get to Darkwater River as soon as possible."

"My horse." Syra replied. "Ride with me. We'll take Shadowmere."

"You are sent from the Divines, my girl." Fina kissed her cheeks and then let Syra lead her by the hand through the market and towards the back wall of the city.

"Where are we going?"

"Trust me." Syra replied, watching to make sure Ljorn was keeping up. As they reached the wall, she stopped. "Shadowmere is on the other side. Let me help you over." She got on one knee and cradled her hands. Fina used it as a foot hold and Syra boosted her up the wall.

Once she was over, Ljorn got down to help her do the same. Seeing him like that, on one knee as he had done so many times during his fake proposals, as he'd carefully planned them, and staged them so many times during their childhood was nearly enough to bring her to tears.

"Here we are again, my love." He said, knowing very well what she was thinking. His tone was joking, but his eyes were serious.

Syra shook her head, covering her mouth. She bent before him and, damning it all, pressed a kiss to his lips.

"Ljorn, one day, when all of this is behind me...If you would still have the monster I've become, I would want for nothing more than to be your wife. I swear by the Divines - nothing would bring me more joy."

And with those fierce words, she propelled herself over the wall without his help.

Once Syra dropped down beside Fina, the two of them ran along the wall until they came to a tree. Shadowmere stood waiting, free of any restraint.

"Quite a horse." Fina said, patting him gently while his master changed back into her Brotherhood attire.

"And fast enough we'll likely arrive before Arik." Syra replied, swinging herself up into the saddle. She offered a hand down to Fina, who climbed up behind her.

Shadowmere's ears pricked, and Syra leaned down, stroking his neck and nudging him into action with her heels.

"Let's go."

Teehee. ;D

This chapter is dedicated to the lovely little angel who drew some amazing fan art for Arik! It's amazing and I love it. :D You can find it on my Tumblr. x THANK YOU!