Voslaarum and Naslaarum rumbled and hissed as they roosted on the great stone arches above our heads, smoke leaking from their jaws and their scales slick with blood. Some of it was their own; Voslaarum wore a deep gash along his flank, Naslaarum bearing large open wounds from two missing scales, and some broken spines.
But the bare bones of the dragons they had destroyed with us lay scattered and steaming in the frigid air on the ground at our feet.
It was a testament to their ferocity and power. No less than five dragons had risen to defend Alduin at his last bastion; all of them had fallen.

The skin of my face was torn and bloody. A long laceration streaked from my forehead down to my right cheek, the gore stinging my eyes. My hair and armour was wet with dragon blood. Faire was spattered with it from head to toe, her white hair matted and stained, her armour blackened with soot and sulphur.

Teldryn and Marcurio had fought viciously. Were it not for their restoration magic, they would undoubtedly have died. I had watched in terror and excitement as Teldryn had saved Marcurio's life after the Mage had run dry of magicka; The Dark Elf's blade had ran through the death lord's chest as he shoved himself between it and Marcurio, an angry roar issuing from him as the draugr champion had buried its frost-cursed blade into his shoulder.
Marcurio himself had more than laid to rest any suspicions that his prolonged absence from battle had dulled his talent for destruction. The skies had lit up with his lightning and fire, the draugr screaming in their choked, dead voices as the flames had consumed them.

The temple had thrilled me. The others had patiently waited, tending to their battle wounds as I revelled in my love of stealth killing, creeping through the echoing halls of stone and picking off the draugr one by one. It had been too long since I had done it last. The rush of playing the predator had been an intoxicating drug.
But now, as we stood at the threshold of the entrance to Sovngarde, the smouldering ashes of the dragon priest Nahkriin glowing at our feet, emotions of a different kind engulfed me.
Fear; doubt; trepidation; painful love.

Faire and Marcurio leaned on eachother as they sat, resting against a stone pillar and sharing potions; I felt the troubling emotions well up within me as Teldryn approached, reaching up to remove his chitin helmet as he came to stand before me.
He breathed heavily as he turned his face and roughly spat blood on the ground next to his feet, wiping his mouth with his gauntlet. He looked down at me, still panting, a sarcastic grin on his parted lips and blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
'You're really making sure that you're getting your money's worth, aren't you, sera?'

I couldn't think of a time when I'd seen him look more irresistible. I felt the sting of the wound on my face as I smiled at him, the familiar fire of lust flaring in my belly.
Maybe it was bad that I was so turned on by the sight of him all battle-scarred and bloody.
It didn't matter now. I took a step forward and placed my hands on his chest as his arm wound around my waist.
'You fight like a champion.' I moved my hand up to his neck. 'You never fail to impress me, Sero.' I grinned, moving my face closer to his ear, the desire still simmering within me. 'If it weren't for our company, I'd ravage you right here and now. Until your legs were of little use to you.'

He laughed quietly, pulling me closer to him as he murmured in my ear. 'Mmm. I'm sure the dragons won't mind. Forget about those other two.'

He lowered his face to kiss me firmly, his stubble grating against my skin and the taste of his blood rippling faintly across my tongue.

It reminded me of the first time we had coupled by the frozen lake on the way to Falkreath; when I had been a creature if the night and he had let me taste his blood while he was still inside of me.
I sighed heavily, basking in the shimmering sweetness of the moment as our lips parted and our foreheads touched.
'Ouch.' He complained flatly and grinned as the spikes of the Herald's Crown scraped against his skin.

'So... How inappropriate would it be for us to find a quiet place together? Before... Sovngarde.'

I was surprised by his question. Although the usual frisky mischief was in his tone, there was something else, too; a gentle pleading; a hint of tender desperation.
He felt the same way I did. He felt the fear and uncertainty. The thought that this might be the last time we ever saw each other; the very real possibility that I may never return from that portal, that my body would rot on the fields of Sovngarde.
'We can keep the armour on. Well, most of it.' He smiled softly, trying to relieve the aching sadness and intense emotion.

I exhaled slowly, feeling the warmth of his skin against my own as I tried to calm my heart.

A great flood of emotion washed over me as we stood there next to the door to Sovngarde, basking in each other's glow; the intensity of it almost broke my heart.

My voice was quiet and soft as it emerged from me; it sounded strange to my own ears.

'If I am torn from this world... To go to wherever it is my soul will drift... I won't rest. No god or force of this world could part me from you. I will wander the realms with your name upon my lips until I find a way back into the arms of my champion.'

He stood still for a while, his arms still wrapped around me; he squeezed me gently as he kissed my forehead, his hand reaching up to stroke my blood-soaked hair.

'Then I will be waiting. Whether it is here on this night or many miles away, many years from now... I won't leave this world without you.'

I felt a scorching tear roll down my cheek as he gently took my hand, leading me away from the portal back towards the temple. Faire and Marcurio silently watched us leave, Voslaarum and Naslaarum craning their necks to watch.

'Come on. Let's make a beautiful memory for you to take with you to the fields of Sovngarde.'