Author's note: Hello everyone! Thank you for reading the second part of my Destiny Unraveled series. I am so grateful for your support and criticism and I hope this part ends up better than the previous one.

In case you're wondering, no, I am not a native English speaker. I just speak and write English really well. With that said, you might notice some grammatical errors.

As always, I welcome any constructive criticism as long as you are respectful and polite.

Disclaimer: I do not own Elder Scrolls games! However, I do own this book series and the original characters are my creation.

Hope you will like this one!

DRAGON CRISIS

Destiny Unraveled

I

21st of Evening Star, 4E 202

There were many things that Ziiah didn't know.

For example, she never quite understood Dwemer technology. She always wondered how the steam and 'tone' could control all of their cities and constructs. In her laymen's opinion, magic was the power source of all unliving constructs, including the undead. However, as she came to learn recently, there were many things she didn't know about herself. For example, she was a Dragonborn or the Dragonborn. She wasn't sure which particle was appropriate - honestly, she didn't care much. On the other hand, Jarl Balgruuf and his court seemed to have cared a lot. Present at the court meeting were the Jarl, Balgruuf the Greater; his trusted Steward and advisor, Proventus Avenicci; his younger brother, Hrongar; the court mage Farengar Secret-Fire; the gruff-looking Companion, Loro Yagg who was displeased to see her, what with her earlier escape from the Whiterun prison that same year; and Kaani, a Khajiit mage and Ziiah's only ally in the room. Needless to say, Ziiah was more than willing to leave this strange assembly as soon as possible.

"What do you know about the Dragonborn?" Balgruuf suddenly asked her.

Standing in the Jarl's home, the Dragonsreach, Ziiah had just finished her report on the Western Watchtower situation. Bewildered herself, she still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that she slew a dragon. She doesn't even remember the entire ordeal. One moment, she was standing far away from the dragon; the next, she was atop its skull.

"Nothing, to be honest," she found herself replying, still absent-minded from the entire conversation. "It's just what the men called me."

The Jarl gave her, what many would call, a sympathetic look. For what reason, she was unsure, but her gut feeling told her that the man internally wept at her obliviousness to Nordic culture; her culture, some would say.

"The legends say that the Dragonborn is born with an unparalleled ability to learn and use Thu'um," Balgruuf said solemnly.

"Thu'um?" Ziiah asked.

"A Shout," Hrongar, the Jarl's brother, answered. "It is the released form of the Voice, the ancient art that our forefathers practiced all the way back to the founding of the First Empire."

That's a long time.

"So, the Dragonborn is this mythical creature that can yell real loud?" Ziiah asked sarcastically. "I'm honored."

Balgruuf sighed. Though he knew of Ziiah and her rather colorful past, he was still amazed by her ability of indifference. Talos, preserve me, he thought, if this woman is supposed to be our savior.

"The Dragonborn is not just some myth to be disregarded," Hrongar said, unnerved. "You are the first to appear in centuries. By all accounts traceable, Tiber Septim was the last Dragonborn."

"Hrongar, calm down," Proventus, the Jarl's steward, suddenly said. "Capable as she is, refrain from attributing nonsense legends to her. I don't see any signs of her being this… Dragonborn."

Ziiah noticed the dismissal tone he used and sniggered. You're touching the sore spot, Steward, she thought as she looked at the Jarl's brother. The man was fuming red and he was ready to throttle the Imperial if only he were allowed to do so.

"You ignorant Imperial bast - " he said, stopping himself before saying too much. "These are our sacred traditions!"

"Hrongar," the Jarl said in a soothing manner. "Don't be so cross with Avenicci."

The younger brother sighed in frustration and nodded, seemingly calming down. He didn't resist giving the Steward a piercing death glare, though.

"I meant no disrespect," the Steward said, trying not to look directly at Hrongar.

Ziiah rolled her eyes. Milk-drinker.

"My Jarl, I have to agree with master Avenicci," Kasni said, offering a deep bow. "Dragonborn myth is still a relatively unknown topic. What we have witnessed does allude to the stories but without confirmation - "

"Stay your tongue, cat-mage," Hrongar said with a low voice. "We appreciate your help but your input on the matter is irrelevant."

"Mistress Kaani is one of the experts on ancient magicks," Farengar added, staring disapprovingly at Hrongar. "While I must admit that the involvement of Greybeards more or less confirms the hypothesis, I would still like to advise caution."

"What's done is done," Balgruuf said before looking at Ziiah. "What will you do now?"

Ziiah thought for a moment. "Don't really know. Maybe I go to the tundra for some quick dip in the hot springs."

"And the Greybeards?" Hrongar asked.

Ziiah flinched. Bloody Greybeards… As they were returning from the watchtower, a ground-shaking 'dovahkiin' came from the mountains in the south. Ziiah heard the word 'Greybeards' over and over again. She later learned from Kaani that the Greybeards were a secretive order of peaceful monks that lived in the High Hrothgar, a monastery at the Throat of the World. Apparently, the Greybeards didn't speak - at all - and then, out of nowhere, they were summoning her. Gallus lied, Ziiah thought bitterly. Nocturnal brings only bad luck. I'm neck-deep in trouble now!

"I'm sure the Greybeards will find another, more appropriate Dragonborn," Ziiah said through a forced smile. "Skyrim is full of brave Nord souls willing to take on the mantle."

"You would be surprised at how wrong you are," Hrongar said.

"Meaning?" Ziiah asked after a short pause.

Balgruuf sighed. "A Dragonborn is chosen by Akatosh. Your blood is unique. It cannot even be passed down to your offspring."

Ziiah watched as Balgruuf stood up from his throne and walked toward her. With each step he took, she grew more anxious. A heavy hand touched her shoulder and she was uncertain if it was in comfort or in encouragement.

"I understand your fear and reluctance," he said softly. "I still implore you - do not run from your destiny."

Ziiah frowned, Maven Black-Briar's words ringing in the back of her mind. "I believe in cause and effect, not destiny."

Balgruuf chuckled. "Then believe in providence. The return of Dragonborn is a sign of great change. It wouldn't hurt to prevent future disaster if it's in your hands to choose?"

"I'm just a woman, my Jarl," she said with a sad smile. "Powerful, somewhat influential but still just one woman. I'm certain the future is not shaped by a single hand."

"Then find more hands," he said, returning to his throne. "Even Tiber Septim needed help to create his Empire."

Ziiah smirked. "Are you suggesting I should covet the throne, my Jarl?"

Loro frowned at her while Balgruuf chuckled as he sat back down on his throne. "I wouldn't go so far. For now, I hope you will accept the smaller title of Thane."

Ziiah stared at the man, her eyes wide and her jaw slacked. "Thane? Of Whiterun?"

"That's the only title I can offer," he said with a chuckle. "We would be honored to have you as a member of our court. After all, you protected my city from a dragon."

"With help," she clarified.

"I believe the ones who've helped you would agree with my decision," he said, looking at Loro. "Isn't that right, Harbinger?"

The Orc then gave a very menacing look to Ziiah, the one that said 'just take it and leave already'.

Ziiah sighed. "Fine, I accept."

Balgruuf then called for Farengar and Ziiah observed quietly as the mage presented Balgruuf with a pair of bracers. Seemingly made of silver and quality leather, Ziiah admired the craftsmanship. Eorlund, she thought, definitely Eorlund.

"As a badge of office, I give you this pair of bracers," Balgruuf said, offering her the piece of armor. "You're also allowed to buy property within Whiterun hold."

"Isn't it mandatory for a Thane to own property within the Hold?" Ziiah asked as she walked up to the Jarl and took the bracers, nodding in gratitude as she did so.

"Normally yes," he said. "However, I will make an exception for you."

"You flatter me, my Jarl," Ziiah said smugly.

"I honor you, Thane Ziiah," Balgruuf said and his voice boomed within the keep. "Godspeed."

With a curt bow, Ziiah turned on her heel and headed toward the front gate, noticing that Kaani was waiting for her patiently. Before she could even reach the stairs, however, she heard Balgruuf call her name. She looked over her shoulder and saw a somber expression on his face.

"The Greybeards don't care for the mundane world," he said. "From atop the High Hrothgar, for them to even call you is not just an honor but a curious occurrence. Keep that in mind."

Ziiah said nothing as she walked away, along with Kaani, more than ready to leave all of the nonsense behind.

The news of the Western Watchtower incident spread like wildfire. Ziiah could barely get to the Bannered Mare without getting weird looks from the guardsmen and townsfolk. They were staring, nearly piercing her with their glares. She was unsure if the looks were fueled by anger or envy or both, but they were intense and it made her very uncomfortable. It was the worst when she passed by Jorvaskrr. Atop the staircase that lead to the mead hall, Vilkas, Farkas, and Aela stood first in line while the rest of the Companions stood behind them. The standing ovation, Ziiah knew, was for her. There were a lot of mixed feelings, particularly Vilkas and Aela who seemed to be both shocked and angry, and in pain. The moment her eyes met theirs, Ziiah lowered her gaze as she made her way around Gildergreen and down the stairwell toward the marketplace in the Plains District. She wanted to leave Whiterun as soon as possible. Suddenly, she felt a weight on her shoulder. Looking to her right, she saw Kaani offering her a comforting smile, followed by a slight squeeze of her paw. Ziiah returned the smile before circling her arm around her friend's waist and leaning her head against Kaani's shoulder.

"I wish this day would just end," Ziiah murmured as they entered the Bannered Mare. "I had it enough with all the fantasy and dragons and whatever else they're talking about."

Kaani chuckled. "Well, how about we rent a room and you go to sleep? You need rest."

Ziiah nodded, though she was uncertain of how much rest she would get. Nevertheless, she welcomed the warmth of the inn's hearth as they sat down around the fire, warming themselves. The coldest season in Skyrim was already in full swing; the temperatures were low, the snow was picking up and the overall scenery was white. Even Whiterun, which normally had a moderate climate, was freezing. Thankfully, Ziiah brought a thick bear coat with her, knowing that her Guild armor alone would be insufficient for the winter. Gripping onto her coat, Ziiah cast a glance at Kaani. The Khajiit noticed her glare after a few moments and lifted a brow.

"What?" Kaani asked.

Ziiah pouted. "Does it unnerve you when you see people wearing fur coats?"

Kaani was silent for a moment before she burst out in laughter. Ziiah watched as the Khajiit tried to catch her breath in between the fits. After a while, Kaani calmed down and cleared her throat.

"You are one strange plant, you know that?" Kaani said with a chuckle.

Ziiah frowned. "Plant?"

Kaani shook her head. "Nevermind. To answer your question, no, I don't feel unnerved when people wear fur coats as long as it's animal fur and not Khajiit fur."

Ziiah smirked and nodded. "Good to know."

The two spent the entire day drinking and eating before retiring sometime before sunset…

Meanwhile, the Jorvaskrr was in an uproar.

Ziiah's arrival didn't go unnoticed and many of the Companions had questions; questions that their Harbinger couldn't answer. Loro himself was surprised when he saw her enter the city with the entire Whiterun guard acting as her entourage. Worse still, Loro felt goosebumps once the thunderous call echoed from the top of the mountain. Never in his life had he experienced such a terrifying and at the same time mesmerizing moment. However, he felt offended when the Jarl summoned him to the courtroom and felt even more wronged when the Jarl urged him to comply with Ziiah's inauguration. Though Loro's history with the thief was relatively brief, he felt as if he had been spat in the face when Ziiah was named Thane of Whiterun. Her criminal history was effectively cleared and she would be regarded as nobility from then on. The mere notion of her being pardoned brought discomfort. Loro was certain that the members of the Circle felt worse than he did - Vilkas in particular. The Circle retreated to the Underforge after witnessing Ziiah's departure from the keep while the rest of the Companions took their somber whines to the mead hall. Loro was especially unnerved by Aela's furious outbursts that afternoon.

"That milk-drinking oaf," Aela growled, punching the stone wall. "He dares to influence our judgment?!"

"He's the Jarl, Aela," Farkas tried to reason with the battle-hardened huntress. "This is his city. If he wishes to pardon a criminal, he can do so."

"She's not a criminal, she's a deceiving bitch," Aela spat before turning to Vilkas. "How can you be so calm about this?! Say something!"

Vilkas sighed. He buried his face in his hands. None of it made sense to him and none of his feelings on the matter made it any better. On one hand, he was thrilled and excited to see Ziiah again. He noticed her hair had grown and her body was taking on a more curvaceous form. She seemed stronger and more experienced; the way she walked indicated a strong resolve and sense of self. She's different, Vilkas thought as he recalled the brief moment their eyes had met. However, she also reminded him of a doe wandering a meadow while constantly looking of her shoulder. He wondered what had happened since their last meeting.

"Vilkas," Aela repeated impatiently. "Are you even listening?"

Vilkas took in a deep breath. "Farkas is right. Regardless of our judgment, Ziiah is now part of the nobility. We are to show her proper respect."

Aela scoffed. "You have to be joking! Ziiah is the reason Kodlak died and why we were on a verge of destruction! I will rather eat cow dung than bow to that whore!"

"That's enough," Loro said sternly, not looking at any of them. "I don't like this situation either but what's done is done. Ziiah is now a Thane and as far as the Jarl is concerned, her crimes are forgiven. As for us, Kodlak's been avenged and the Companions endure. We are safe."

"For how long?" Aela asked. "Ziiah's return is nothing but trouble and we're poorly defended as the three of you decided to cure yourself."

"Are you calling us weak, Aela?" Vilkas asked, his tone low.

Aela merely stared at her shield-brother.

"I sincerely doubt that one woman can destroy the Companions," Loro said slowly.

"One almost did," Aela said under her breath.

"In any case," Loro said, even more, unnerved, "we are to stay out of this. Let the past grudges go and move on with your lives."

"Over my dead body," Aela growled as she stormed out of the cave and through the secret exit.

Loro sighed, while Farkas fidgeted in his seat. Vilkas frowned. Let the past grudges go, he recalled Loro's words. Easier said than done…

The next morning, Ziiah awoke sore. Her legs were cramped and tense, while her back could barely support her weight. With a groan, she rolled out of the bed and tentatively sat up, wincing as she did so. She sighed before stretching her arms over her head. Shit, she thought as her back muscles protested. To make matters worse, she was getting a headache as well.

"Fuck me," she muttered as she rose.

Feeling as if she was mauled by a bear, Ziiah slowly made her way to the tavern below. By the time she reached the stairs, she could already hear the commotion downstairs. She heard several voices, some of which she recognized as Farengar and Hrongar. Ziiah frowned as she descended the stairs and entered the tavern. She was surprised to find Kaani in the middle of it, seemingly uncomfortable. She was standing with her hands crossed over her chest and her ears had folded backward. Ziiah approached the group while overhearing their conversation.

"No one dismisses the Greybeards," Hrongar said lowly. "She must make the pilgrimage."

Kaani sighed. "I can't make her do anything, my Lord. She is a grown-up person who can make her own decisions."

"The people are terrified," Farengar reasoned. "If she simply made an appearance at the monastery, it would be enough to calm the masses."

"People are never satisfied, you know that," Kaani retorted. "Otherwise, the College would've been respected and not ostracised."

"This is different," Hrongar said. "She has become a symbol of hope. The dragons have returned and now, the Dragonborn too."

"And that means what exactly?" Ziiah asked, making herself known to the three.

Startled, they immediately went quiet with Hrongar scratching the back of his head. Kaani and Farengar exchanged looks before Kaani looked back at Ziiah. The look on the Khajiit's face spoke volumes but Ziiah had trouble figuring them out.

"Rumors have spread that the coming of dragons is an omen," Kaani said slowly. "That the world is ending."

Ziiah frowned. "I think we're good - I don't see any cataclysm occurring now."

"The stories tell of an individual with an ability to slay and steal the souls of dragons," Farengar continued to explain.

"The Dragonborn is an epitome of heroism and strength for the Nords," Hrongar added. "People are looking for a beacon in these dark times."

"So, what's that got to do with me?" Ziiah asked. "I have no intention of rallying people and leading them into a revolution. My goals are elsewhere."

"What are your goals, then?" Hrongar asked.

Ziiah was silent. For a moment, she found herself unable to answer his question. What am I doing? she wondered. What is my mission now? Mercer Frey was dead, the Guild was back on its feet but the Dragonborn business? She disliked myths and legends more than the nonsense she had endured with Nocturnal and Sheogorath. However, as Ziiah came to realize much later in her life, fate rarely asked for permission and second opinions. One could only hope that fortune would be on their side and Ziiah wished for nothing more than a simple life of larceny and limitless wealth. And yet... Perhaps this is my answer? she thought. Perhaps I'm supposed to see this through… The mere thought of it scared her and she hated that feeling: the fear, the hopelessness, the despair.

Taking a deep breath, Ziiah answered Hrongar, "I don't know."

Hrongar sighed. "She doesn't know…Great…"

Farengar frowned. "Why did you go to Bleak Falls Barrow?"

Ziiah looked at Kaani who nodded. Hesitant, Ziiah pondered if she should share her thoughts with strangers. I didn't want to tell Kaani either, she thought. However, she wanted answers and it was time she gave some answers too.

"I," she said, reluctant. "I had dreams and visions of the ruin, and there was a woman as well. I thought the dreams will disappear if I go to the Bleak Falls Barrow."

"Did they?" Farengar asked. "Did the dreams stop?"

Ziiah nodded. "For now at least."

Kaan looked at Farengar, asking, "What do you make of this?"

Farengar sighed. "Not much but I believe that whoever guided you in your dreams knew that you were the Dragonborn."

Ziiah frowned.

"We're treading the path of metaphysical, of course," Farengar said quickly.

"Don't talk in circles, man," Ziiah said with a cold and low voice.

Farengar swallowed. "I think you might be connected to a spirit."

Ziiah lifted a brow. "Like Daedra? Or Aedra?"

"More like a ghost, I believe," Farengar mused. "A lost soul that is relating to your life and seeking justice for its misfortune."

"That's far-fetched, Farengar," Kaani said. "Ghosts are bound to places, not people. Ziiah saw the same apparition in the Snow Veil Sanctum."

"We don't know much about the planes of the dead, my friend," Farengar reasoned. "Even that which we know is questioned almost all the time."

Ziiah was silent for a moment. "If that is true, how do I make the visions stop?"

"I'm afraid the answer I offer won't be easy to swallow," Farengar said solemnly. "For now, I advise you to listen to it and try to form a deeper connection. The more you try to drive it out, the more it will latch onto you. Spirits have the time on their side - patience and determination are their striking traits."

"And if it kills me?" Ziiah questioned.

"If it wanted that, you'd be dead by now," Farengar said.

Ziiah frowned, staying silent as she turned on her heel and sat down at the bar. She buried her face into her hands, rubbing her eyes as she did so. Countless questions arose from the conversation she had had with Farengar; questions that put great strain on her mind and her heart. The pale woman's visage flashed before her eyes, causing her stomach to twist. What do you want from me? Ziiah thought. Suddenly, she heard the stools next to her shuffle and screech as she was joined by the other three who sat next to her. She gave them a questioning look and only got compassionate smiles in return. Still confused, Ziiah decided not to tire herself with figuring out the reasons behind their actions and simply accepted their company. Standing on the other side of the bar was Ysolda who had overheard pieces of their conversation. Ziiah knew this because when she looked up at the fair Nord woman, her face was that of a saddened friend who felt hopeless in the whole situation. Wordlessly, Ysolda took out five bottles of mead and put them on the bar; four for her guests and one for herself. Clinking the bottles, the group took a full swig of their drinks before falling into a comfortable silence.