"Harbinger!"

Cry looked up from the letter she was examining to find that Aela stood in the doorway of her sitting room, looking panicked. "What is it?" she asked, setting the paper down.

"A dragon is attacking Whiterun!" the redheaded huntress exclaimed.

Cry's heart immediately fell into her stomach, and she felt certain the color drained from her face. "No," she said quietly, under her breath. "No."

"Yes!" Aela insisted, pushing the door open further. "The Companions must help, or the city will be destroyed!"

Cry blinked. She knew that if she went outside to help fight the dragon, and to make it sure it stayed dead, her secret would be revealed to the Companions, and she didn't know how they would react to such a thing. If she didn't go, Whiterun was surely doomed. The guard may have fought one before, but if this dragon was attacking the city proper…

Innocent people were going to die. Cry needed to go and help. She knew how to fight a dragon better than anyone else in Whiterun, and if she did not go out, she would never forgive herself. Damn whatever happened once her true identity was revealed.

She stood up and retrieved her greatsword, before turning to Aela. "Let's move," she said, and then she pushed her way out into the hall ahead of the huntress.

Going up into the mead hall, she found that all of the Companions were already gathered there, waiting for her. Cry exhaled a breath and walked towards where they were, climbing up onto the second level of the mead hall so that she could address them.

"Companions," she began. "I know that we do not concern ourselves with the politics of Whiterun, or of Skyrim herself, but a dragon is attacking the city. If we do not go out there and help defend her, innocent people will die, and I do not want to have their blood on my hands." She licked her lips. "We are all brave and capable warriors, and we are going to go out and help defend our city against the beast. Who's with me?"

Thankfully, the Companions all gave a war cry of agreement, and Cry let out a relieved breath. "On me!" she said, holding up her greatsword, and then she turned and headed outside, her warriors following after her.

As soon as they exited Jorrvaskr, it became clear that a dragon was attacking. Fire burned in multiple locations, and guards raced around, either ushering stray citizens into cover or shooting arrows into the sky. Cry followed them, and saw the dragon circling above Dragonsreach, blowing fire at the highest towers, where no doubt there were more guards shooting at it.

"Companions!" Cry shouted, and then she pointed her sword. "Kill the dragon!"

She heard the pounding of boots as they raced ahead of her towards Dragonsreach. Cry steadied herself, knowing that there was really only one way that she would be able to take the beast down.

With resolve, she headed towards Dragonsreach herself, tightening her grip on her greatsword.

Once inside, she was faced with a panicked scene all of its own. There were injured people all over the great hall, laying on blankets and nursing burns and other wounds. Cry looked around at all of them for a moment before she shook her head and moved through the great hall towards the stairs behind the throne.

At the top, she found Jarl Balgruuf standing at the table that was covered in a map of Skyrim, speaking with his brother. He glanced up, and blinked when he spotted her.

"Dragonborn!" he said, and he moved around the table to get to her. "You've come to help, I hope?"

"Yes," Cry said. "I've… I've been attempting to hide who I am from the Companions, but Whiterun and her people are more important than keeping the secret of my identity from my warriors." She set her shoulders. "I am going to kill the dragon, and make sure it can never come back to attack Whiterun, or anywhere else, ever again."

"Good," Balgruuf said. "See to it. Too many people have already been hurt." He turned and went back to the table.

Cry rotated around herself, and headed through the door that would take her onto the grand balcony of Dragonsreach. Pushing her way outside, she was immediately faced with the sharp smell of smoke and the heat of burning fire.

Coughing, she moved towards the edge of the balcony, and peered through the rising smoke, trying to catch sight of the dragon. She could hear it, its wings flapping and the sound of its fire, but she could not see it, in all the smoke, and all the chaos.

Cry inhaled slowly, and closed her eyes. She felt the burn of the Word that she was looking to use, and she focused on it. Bringing it to the forefront of her chest, she let the power of her Thu'um take over, and she let it ring. "Tiid… klo!"

Immediately, everything slowed. The smoke slowed, the fire slowed, the sounds of shouts and screams slowed, and the beating of wings slowed. Cry opened her eyes, and focused. With the lack of chaos, she was easily able to make out the shape of the dragon through the smoke.

Exhaling again, she focused on a different heat in her chest, a Word that would cause destruction this time, and kept her focus on the dragon as the world started to return to its normal speed.

"Come on," she said under her breath, hoping that the dragon would still be in range by the time she could actually harness this second Shout. "Come on!"

Normal speed returned, and so did her Thu'um's power. "Fo… krah diin!"

A burst of ice chased after the dragon, and Cry grinned when she heard its roar of surprise. She could take this thing down. It would be repetitive, and it would take a while, but she could do it.

As she was readying to shout in order to slow time again, she heard the sound of the door to the balcony opening. She turned around, and blinked when she saw Vilkas hurrying through the smoke towards her, holding a bow.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, slowing as he neared where she stood. "Why aren't you down there fighting?" Cry's Shout, ready to go, died in her chest as she stammered for a response. Vilkas gazed at her, clearly confused. "Cry? What's wrong?"

"I… I am fighting," she said, quietly, and then she turned back around.

"No, you're not," Vilkas retorted, joining her at the edge of the balcony. He coughed, and wiped at his eyes. "You can barely see anything from up here, and you don't have a bow!"

"I don't need a bow," Cry replied, her eyes narrowing as she peered through the smoke, searching for the dragon. She could tell that it was growing weaker, probably due to whatever the fighters down below were doing to it. It wouldn't last much longer. Still, without it nearby, she wouldn't be able to hit it again, and she needed to, lest it take more time to kill.

"I need to find out its name," she said, mostly to herself, but Vilkas looked at her.

"What's name? The dragon's? How will that help?" he asked, but Cry ignored him. Taking care of the dragon was more important than answering questions that could be answered later.

She realized that the only way she would be able to find out the dragon's name was to introduce herself. Esbern had told her that it was common for two dragons to shout their names at one another prior to a battle, when they had been making their way back to Whiterun from Riften.

How? I don't know how to translate my name into Dovah.

But she did. Something deep inside of her knew the dragon language, and she knew that she could put her own name into the dragon tongue if she tried. Ignoring the look that Vilkas was giving her, she closed her eyes, and went in search of whatever inborn part of her knew the dragon language.

She poked through everything that she could reach, as though she were searching through a cabinet for a small bottle at the very back of it. She knew that Dovahzul was a large part of her, but one that was not often drawn on for something so serious. If she wanted it to help her, she needed to focus all of her attention on it, and ignore everything else that was happening inside of, and around her.

She'd already blocked off her sight by closing her eyes. By letting out a slow breath, she dropped the rest of her senses, from top to bottom; she could no longer hear the fire burning and the shouts and screams, it was all now a dull roar; the smell of smoke and fire and blood no longer reached her nose; there was no longer the taste of fear in her mouth, or the sharp tang of smoke on her tongue; she didn't feel the heat of flames on her skin, or the hand that Vilkas was using to shake her shoulder. She was focused entirely on the part of her that related to the dragons, and that spoke the same language they did.

And, just like with all her Shouts, the translation of her name suddenly burned deep within her chest, and her eyes flew open. "Si… lon bal!"

A burst of blue energy flew from her mouth and into the smokey air. Almost at once, the sounds of the battle went silent. There were no sounds of dragon roar, or battle cries, or screams of the Whiterun citizens. Instead, there was just the dull flapping of dragon wings as it appeared through the smoke in front of her, a big beast with blue scales.

It gazed at her with bright amber eyes, and Cry gazed back, inhaling and exhaling. The two gazed at one another, dragon and dragon, and then the beast itself spoke: "Agyolos, Dovahkiin Silonbal."

Agyolos. That was its name, and it was listening to her. Cry could hardly believe it.

"Lif, Agyolos," she said, slowly. "Hi drun vopraagek aax."

Leave. You bring unnecessary harm.

The dragon stared at her for a moment before replying: "Ni vopraagek. Daar jul krii un eylok."

Not unnecessary. These humans kill our kind.

Cry blinked at it. She knew that it had a point, but she also knew that this kind of hatred and destruction was brought on by Alduin's influence. This dragon would not have attacked Whiterun had it not been told by Alduin to do so.

"Druv dreh hi gir wah Alduin?" she asked it. "Rok gevild nid suleyk avok hi."

Why do you listen to Alduin? He holds no power over you.

"Alduin los jun. Rok drun zek dovah."

Alduin is king. He brings back the dragons.

"Ful hi dren ol ok nukaas?" Cry demanded.

So you act as his puppet?

The dragon snorted. "Hi los nukaas! Krif wah hin meyar eylok fah daar joor."

You are the puppet! Fighting against your own kind for these mortals.

"Zu'u fund ni lost wah waan hi drey ni ahraan niin," Cry said, quietly.

I would not have to if you did not wound them.

The dragon's head thrashed. "Nust drun do niist meyar gral!" Its eyes narrowed. "Ol dreh hi, Dovahkiin."

They bring about their own destruction! As do you, Dragonborn.

Cry blanched, and she immediately turned and shoved Vilkas to the ground as the dragon blew fire at them both. Vilkas hissed as he hit the ground beneath her, but Cry ignored him in favor of looking towards the dragon again. It had remained where it was, but it did not try to strike again. Cry gazed at it for a moment, and it gazed at her, before it turned its head and flew away through the smoke. She waited until the sound of its wings had faded before moving off of Vilkas.

He struggled to a sitting position. After he'd taken a moment to steady his breathing, he looked sideways at her. Cry met his gaze, deciding that there was no reason to act ashamed.

"What was that?" he asked at last.

"Me, speaking Dovahzul to a dragon," Cry replied.

"And… how is it that you know how to speak the dragon language?" Vilkas questioned, slowly.

Cry licked her lips, and cleared her throat, which suddenly felt rather dry. "I'm the Dragonborn," she told him. "I've… I've known since I returned to Skyrim."

Vilkas stared at her for a moment without speaking. "Why didn't you tell me?" he finally asked, and Cry shook her head.

"It's a long story -"

"There you two are!" They both turned at the sound of Farkas's voice, and saw that he was jogging towards them, his armor clanking. There was a scorch mark across it, but other than that, he looked relatively unharmed. "I've been searching for you. The dragon's gone!"

"We know," Cry said, climbing to her feet. She offered Vilkas her hand, and he accepted it, allowing her to help him up as well. "I spoke to it, and it flew away."

Farkas blinked at her, and then at Vilkas. He then leaned towards her, and whispered, "You do know that Vilkas is standing right there?"

Cry smiled slightly, and nodded. "He knows," she said to Farkas, who blinked again, but leaned back.

"All right, I guess."

Cry glanced at Vilkas, who was still studying her. "I would have told you, long ago," she assured him, and then she turned and walked away from the two of them, her eyes closed, a tear falling down her cheek.


Later on, someone knocked on her bedchamber door. She glanced up from where she was pushing a spare set of breeches into a bag. "Come in," she said, not bothering to hide the pack.

The door opened, and Vilkas entered the room, looking uncertain. He frowned when he saw the pack, and the pile of things that were waiting to be put into it.

"Are you going somewhere?" he asked her, and Cry nodded, focusing her attention on packing again.

"I think I need to get away for awhile, think about a few things." She looked up at him. "I haven't really decided where I'll go."

Vilkas crossed his arms. "Do you want to explain what you were doing with the Companions all this time?" he asked, and Cry exhaled a breath, putting a tunic into the pack.

"I infiltrated the Thalmor Embassy, to try and find out what they knew about the dragons returning," she said. "As such, I sort of pissed them off, and my companions thought it would be a good idea for me to hide out somewhere, until we knew the Thalmor had stopped searching for me."

"And so you decided the Companions were a good choice?"

Cry nodded. "And it worked. I haven't been found yet, at any rate, and I've still been able to do some research of my own."

"Meaning?"

She looked at him, smiling again. "You know all those times I was gone for longer than I should have been while off on a job?" Vilkas nodded. "I was searching for Words of Power."

"For your Thu'um," Vilkas clarified, and Cry nodded again. "Will these things help you in the fight against the dragons?"

"I hope so," she said, and he sighed.

"Then I apologize for getting angry with you."

Cry shrugged. "It's all in the past." She finished with the last of her things, and closed the pack, before sliding it on over her shoulders. She then reached for her greatsword, which also lay on her bed, and she slid that on as well, before looking at him again. "I wish I could have told you before, but -"

"I understand," Vilkas said, and she dipped her head, grateful.

"I will return," she assured him. "I'm just uncertain as to when."

"We will look for you," Vilkas promised, and Cry started to leave the room. Before she could, Vilkas grabbed her arm, and she glanced down at his hand before looking up at him.

Vilkas seemed to be unsure of why he had stopped her. There was a look of uncertainty in his eyes. After a moment, Cry decided to make a move of her own. She pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth, and then pulled her arm from his grasp and moved past him.

She headed up the stairs to the mead hall, hoping that she did not run into anyone else. She did not want to have to explain her reasoning for leaving, mostly because she did not necessarily have one. She knew that there were several things that were plaguing her: her secret was revealed, the dragons were growing restless, she was falling in love with Vilkas more and more everyday… none of these things were good, and she figured by stepping away from the Companions for a time, she'd be able to solve at least one of those issues.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the universe was not willing to let her walk away from the Companions without a struggle beforehand.

"Where are you going?"

She sighed to herself, and turned to see Farkas standing behind her, his arms crossed and a frown on his face. "I'm leaving," she said. "I need… I need to step back for a while."

"You can't 'step back,'" Farkas said sternly. "You're the harbinger!"

"I know," Cry said. "I'm not going forever, Farkas, but… this dragon attack has reminded me of what I'm supposed to be doing. I let myself get comfortable here with the Companions, when there's a gigantic problem waiting for me to solve out there." She gestured towards the door. "I need to go take care of it, and then I will return, I promise."

Farkas gazed at her for a moment without speaking. When he did, he sounded angry. "This better not have anything to do with my brother."

Cry blinked at him. "Why would you think that?"

"Cry, everyone knows that the two of you are besotted with one another!" Farkas exclaimed, clearly frustrated. "You don't have to run away from him. We can help you with this dragon thing, whatever it is."

Cry swallowed, and then she lowered her gaze. "It is not something that you should have to help me with, Farkas," she said after a moment. She met his gaze again. "And I don't really think what I have to do allows me to… be besotted with your brother."

"He's the only reason you stayed this long, isn't he?" Farkas asked, and Cry paused as she turned to walk away from him. "It's because of him that you didn't hesitate in becoming the harbinger."

"Farkas, I became the harbinger because it was what Kodlak wanted," she said. "I couldn't exactly say no, could I?"

"You would've," he said, "but you were already in love with Vilkas, weren't you? You decided to stay because of that!"

"Farkas."

"Don't deny it," Farkas said. "You're in love with my brother, and he's in love with you, and yet you're going to go and get yourself killed, and break his heart!" He shook his head at her. "Why would you bother staying, if you were just going to do that anyway?"

Cry gazed at him for a moment, and then she shook her head turning to walk away again. "Goodbye, Farkas," she said. She pulled open the door, and exited Jorrvaskr without waiting to see if he had something more to say. More tears were threatening to fall, but she forced these ones back. There was no point.

"Well," she said to herself, pausing at the gates of Whiterun. "I've always wanted to study to be a bard."