Svala had dashed out of the palace immediately, stopping only to hurdle herself on top of her horse. One thing she could say with certainty was that there must be no more loyal steed in all of Skyrim- no matter where she ended up, the horse followed. Courier really was the perfect name for him.

She was urging Courier to go faster and faster, her face nearly pressed to the horse's mane. If she could get far enough away from Windhelm, there was a chance she could keep the devastation to a minimum. Thinking back to her journey to Ivarstead with Ulfric, it seemed as though the dragons were really only interested in her (probably on Alduin's orders).

Meanwhile, up ahead, she could see the dragon growing closer and closer. Large white wings spread out for miles, so massive they blocked out the light of the rising moon. Before she could get the horse to turn, a large torrent of ice was hurtling in her direction, and the force alone sent both her and her mount flying off in the opposite direction.

She groaned, struggling to return to her feet. Beside her Courier was in no better shape, whinnying in pain as he scrambled to try and rise to his feet once more. Looking around, she was dismayed to realize the damn dragon had blasted her all the way back to the stables. Still, she drew her sword and went to rush forward when she heard shouting behind her.

Ulfric, in his massive stupidity, was leading a gaggle of guards, with Galmar and Ysarald in tow, to her location. She ran over to meet them, tying Courier up in the stables. "Are you mad? Get back in the palace!"

"This is my city, damnit!" Ulfric roared at her, his axe in his fist. "You're not the only one to face a dragon and live, Stormblade. Let us help you kill the beast."

Svala was about to continue arguing when the dragon screeched, flying even lower... "Get down!" She grabbed Ulfric by his thick bicep and pulled him face down into the snow with her. Gasping, she lifted her head just in time to see it circling back to her, one claw outstretched. She shoved Ulfric in one direction and rolled in the other, feeling a sharpened talon rake down her leg.

"Archers, aim for the wings!" Ulfric was on his feet once more, she could see him over her shoulder directing the guards. "We need to ground it!" It wasn't bad direction, if only the archers were competent enough to follow it. Arrows struck the scaly hide, raining down uselessly all around her.

"The wings you simpletons!" She screamed, dodging another ice attack directed solely at her. "The arrows won't pierce through the hide!" More spikes of ice landed in a barrage around her, nearly pinning her to the frozen ground.

This wasn't like fighting dragons in the rift- the snowy, slippery terrain made it difficult to keep her footing, and this dragon seemed more intelligent than the last. With one gust of frost breath the archers were swept aside, buried. Galmar and Ysarald had grabbed discarded bows and were now firing at the dragon, even as it once again set its sights on her.

Lower and lower it flew, until she could make out its sharp rows of teeth, its jaws gaping open as it summoned more frost to shoot at her... "Yol Toor Shul!" She Shouted, sending flames to combat the icy onslaught. A plume of steam obstructed her from view, and she took the opportunity to go sprinting off down the cobblestone road.

But something was wrong- the gusts of wind that came with the beating of gigantic wings was suddenly missing. She stopped running to look behind her, only to see the dragon on the ground, crawling closer to Ulfric. He was swinging his axe at it, ever the proper warrior in his form, but she knew if it got much closer it would swallow him whole...

"Rok Siigonis!" She goaded it in the dragon tongue, trying to get its attention. The dragon turned its head, one massive eye staring at her with pure malice. The ground shook as it charged towards her, swinging it's lengthy tail behind it, nearly catching Ulfric in the chest. She would've been more concerned if the damn thing hadn't picked up speed and was charging her- she broke off the main road, cutting through Hollyfrost Farm and up into the tree line.

The dragon was rising into the air with difficulty, crashing into the trees as it pursued her upwards. Still, it didn't stop it from firing spears of ice at her back, some of which managed to hit her. She could feel her frost bitten skin burning with cold as she struggled to stay ahead of the flying beast. With another gusty frost attack, however, she was thrown off her feet and went crashing into a nearby tree. The roar of the dragon was almost deafening at such close range...

"Hey you great scaly bastard, may Oblivion take you!"

Galmar was hacking away at any part of the dragon he could reach, even as it continued to try and rise into the sky once more. The distraction was enough for her to get back onto her feet, Shouting more fire at it while Galmar continued to swing his battle axe at the dragon's haunches.

As it ascended once more, she could see something shimmer against the night sky- blood? "You hit it!" She cried to him, even as it circled the sky, sending fresh blankets of ice and snow to cover them.

"It still flies, though," Galmar called back to her, breathing heavily as he tried to find his footing. "How do we keep it down?"

Normally, she would've tried to climb it, stick her blade right into its brain...but everything was just so slippery she doubted her ability to maintain traction. "The wings, we have to rip holes in the wings!" It seemed to be the only solution that wouldn't have them dead within seconds.

Galmar laughed bitterly at her. "Can you fly too, Dragonborn? Because my axe won't reach from here!"

Even when he was helping her, he was still a pain in her ass. She ignored him, starting to climb one of the taller trees, hoping it would be tall enough... "When it falls, be ready to finish it!"

She knew Galmar was still yelling curses at her from the ground, but as she was assaulted with another large gust of wind from the flapping of dragon's wings all she could do was hug the tree bark and hold on with all her might. She had the ebony sword from Ulfric clenched in her grip, and as soon as the wind died down, she struck, piercing a minuscule hole in of its wings. The shock enchantment did the real damage, however, as the large body began to convulse and droop. Just a little closer and maybe she could-

Within a moment Svala found herself airborne. The damn dragon had captured her within one claw, squeezing her so tightly she could nearly feel her ribs rub. She couldn't even reach a weapon, and she wasn't about to risk her own life by Shouting. All she could do was dangle desperately within the dragon's paw, staring wide eyed at the snowy ground below as they climbed higher and higher into the sky.

"Zu'u Tum!" She commanded it in the dragon tongue, and for a second she swore she felt the dragon's laughter reverberating against her body. She thrashed against the hold, trying to free her hands.

Then she was falling.

Faster and faster the ground was meeting her, and within seconds of impact, she had Shouted whirlwind sprint and used the force to propel herself into a nearby tree trunk. Her face scraped the bark and she had to jab the spikes on her bracers and boots into it to prevent from sliding down. Perhaps there was some merit to this uniform...

There was a mighty crack as she watched (in absolute frustration) as the dragon swung its tail, downing the tree she was currently clinging to. After a few seconds of struggling to free her arms and legs from where her bracers had stuck her to the bark, she realized she had to leave them behind. Barefooted and barehanded she leapt onto the ground in a heap, rolling away from the tree seconds before it fell. A blanket of pine needles and snow covered her.

"Talos, woman, you're mental!" Galmar said as he rushed towards her. His massive fists dug her out rather quickly. "Can you still fight?"

She spat out a mouthful of foliage before glaring at him. "Of course! No lesser dovah is going to beat me!" She patted at her waist for her weapons. "Where in Oblivion is my sword?"

"Svala!" Galmar exclaimed and she turned to face him just in time to see the lengthy dragon tail strike him directly in the chest, throwing him clear into the river. Her heart had leapt into her throat, but at least he hadn't been thrown into the stone walls surrounding Windhelm...hopefully he could swim. In any case, she did not have the time to dwell on such matters, as the dragon had once again descended and was crawling towards her.

She crawled backwards as she was bombarded with more frost, her hands and feet turning blue. She knew by the tightness of her muscles that she had to end this fight, and soon, otherwise she would spend the rest of her days inside a dragon's intestinal track. "K-krill!" She stuttered, her teeth chattering from cold. A faint purple glow encompassed the dragon, but it was not nearly enough to stop it. It approached closer and closer, jaws open wide, showcasing impressive teeth and rank breath. Divines, was this really how it was going to end for her? No. She steeled herself, raised her fists in a defensive position. She would not go down without a fight.

"FUS RO DAH!"

It took Svala a second to realize it was not her who had Shouted. The force of the Shout knocked the dragon off balance and it fell onto its side...she craned her neck around the dragon's girth to see Ulfric on his knees, his face as white as the winter landscape as he breathed heavily. If she only had a weapon she could kill it...

The dragon had nearly righted itself, its thrashing limbs and tail sending trees falling all around them. It gave her an idea; quickly, she grabbed one of the largest branches she could find and crawled towards its open mouth. She stayed out of its eyesight and as it flailed near her, she jabbed the log into its awaiting mouth. It bit down instinctually, sending a rush of splintering wood into her face. For a moment she worried it had not been enough, when she heard the dying screech of the dragon and saw its neck swaying until finally collapsing in a heap at her feet.

Divines that had been close. Even the euphoric feeling of absorbing the beast's soul was not enough to shake her fear. "Ulfric!" She cried, rushing around the steaming corpse to see the Jarl of Windhelm on his side, breathing shallowly, crimson splotches coloring the snow around him. "Fuck, Ulfric, where are you hurt?" Gingerly she patted his sides, checking for broken bones. "I don't know if I have any potions-"

He grabbed her wrist, shaking his head. "Shelter," he rasped to her in a weak voice. She draped one of his arms around her shoulders and went to stand, fully intent on supporting him back to the city, when she hissed in pain and fell to her knees. Oh, right; she had severe frostbite on her feet, a bleeding gash on one leg, and more than a couple broken bones that would take hours to heal. Svala didn't like her odds on making it to Windhelm alone, let alone with an injured Ulfric in tow. She roared her frustration out into the night sky when she saw the outline of a dwelling in the distance. It seemed close enough, just a few paces up the nearest hill...

"Come," she hoisted Ulfric to his feet, the pain nearly making her retch, as they limped towards shelter.

Ulfric had never felt weaker than he did in that moment. He was hyper aware of Svala's discomfort as she dragged him into the dwelling she had found- she was shivering and grunting in pain, and had the Shouting not exhausted him he would've been the one carrying her.

"Svala, stop," he croaked out, spitting out another mouthful of blood. He hadn't planned on using the Voice without preparation (since the result left him in his current state) but the sight of the day open mouth inches away from her...he found himself Shouting before his mind could catch up. At least his regular voice was retuning, slowly (and painfully).

"It's a bandit hideout, but I don't see anyone around. Dragon must've scared them off," she spoke as though she didn't hear him, touching some carvings on one of the wooden posts. "I'll get a fire going." Even if he could've argued further with her, he knew she would continue to limp around the abandoned house like she was currently doing. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." His words were rough and heavy in his mouth. She arched an eyebrow at him, whispering the Shout for fire breath and flooding their surroundings with light and heat. With a contented sigh she lowered herself onto the ground next to him, warming herself by the lit hearth. "You're not."

"I heal quickly," she said with a shrug, flexing angry red toes in front of the fire. "These were blue before, without the dragon blood I would've lost them." She patted herself down, wincing slightly as she did so. "I have to take this armor off, I need to heal the other wounds."

He swatted her hands away as they went to undo her own armor, unlacing it for her instead. He helped her strip down to only her breast bindings and small clothes, taking note of every patch of blackened, bruised, and cut sliver of skin he saw. "You need a healer."

"I need time," she sighed. "What about you? You're coughing up blood and can barely speak. Where were you hit?"

He thought about lying to her, briefly, but she was looking at him with such concern he just shook his head. "Not the dragon," he rasped. "Shouting."

Svala's green eyes widened comically at him. "That happens to you from Shouting?! Why even do it at all then?!"

Ulfric chuckled, forgetting his wrecked throat for a moment, and then lapsed into a coughing fit, culminating in him spitting up another mouthful of blood. How could he explain to her why he had ever gone to the Greybeards? They had chosen him as a child, yes, but his father had all but thrown him out of the palace. "His stomach is too weak for war- let him join the Greybeards and learn the way of the Voice." And then it was ten years of training, isolated in High Hrothgar, and what did he have to show for it? Two Shouts- unrelenting force and disarm. "Because I was chosen," he told her with a shrug. "Because not every Nord can learn to Shout."

"But it hurts you." Her face was scrunched in confusion. He wanted to kiss her.

"Not if I prepare," he stifled another coughing fit. "If I practice and retrain my throat, I can do it. But tonight..."

"You weren't prepared." She shook her head at him. "You shouldn't have used it then. I would've-"

"Died." He finished for her flatly. "You would've died."

A moment of silence passed between the two. He could still feel her shivering, and he shrugged off his cloak, placing it on her bare shoulders. "So what Shouts do you know?" She asked, a cute blush coloring her cheeks.

"Only two," he told her, trying not to flush with shame. "Unrelenting force and disarm."

"I don't know disarm," her smile was bright and exhilarated and he could feel her excitement. "Could you teach it to me?"

"I'm no master." Ulfric was doubtful he'd even know where to begin teaching her a Shout. Divines, he felt old and useless.

"It's not hard for me to learn," she huffed. "Just write the words down in dovah and then...how did they do it? I don't know, Argenir called it 'gifting their understanding' of the Shout."

"I can write it." Even to his own ears it didn't sound convincing. He smeared a finger with some soot from the hearth and scrawled the disarm Shout in dovah for her. She studied it for a few minutes before placing her hands on either side of his head. "Svala...what are you doing?"

"This isn't working," they were so close their noses were brushing. "Maybe if you mouth it? Don't actually Shout just move your lips to make the words..." he complied, but she was still frowning. "Once more?" As he started again, she lightly pressed her lips on top of his, moving her mouth with his in tandem.

She gasped, then, and he noticed that her body had begun to glow slightly. Their odd, not-quite-kiss deepened suddenly as she moved her mouth against his with renewed vigor, all pretense of learning the Shout gone. His hands went to her bare hips and he almost gasped in surprise- her skin was too warm to the touch, almost scalding. He half expected to find his palms burnt. Still, her energy was electric and infectious- she kissed him deeper and deeper as though she hoped to devour him, and her hips were rutting against his as though they had a mind of their own.

"Off," she spoke against his lips, fumbling with the ties to his trousers. With some effort, he managed to push them down under his growing excitement. She ripped off her small clothes and then Ulfric moaned as she lowered herself onto him in one fluid motion. Talos she was dripping. He swore that nothing would ever compare to the feeling of moving inside her.

With the state of their injuries, they weren't able to move much. She rocked on top of him, her muscular thighs clenched around his waist, their foreheads touching. Her lips were stained red with his blood and the thought only made him harder. "Off," she repeated, pulling off his armor and tunic so that her fingers could grip his naked, scarred flesh. Somehow, even with both of them bare, he felt even hotter than before. She pressed her lips against him again, needy, incessant. Each minuscule shift of his cock moving inside her had him groaning into their kiss, the pleasure overriding the ache in his throat.

She pulled away from him to breathe for a moment, the intensity of her emerald eyes gazing so warmly into his. There was something spreading in his chest, like the explosion of a star, hot as her skin under his hands. He fumbled to find her clit, rubbing it harshly as she moaned deep and low, her insides gripping him tighter. Her hands wound themselves in his hair, her nails raking over his scalp, more moans tumbling from her lips.

Ulfric knew she was close, he could feel the tell-tale tightness of her body. Her movements on top of him grew jerky and uneven and he moved his hands back to her hips to steady her, to keep the slow and languorous pace they had set. Truthfully it was because he was a selfish man- he didn't want the moment to end. He buried his face in her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin. "Bite me," she gasped in his ear and he was so overcome and surprised by the request that he did, capturing her fair flesh in his teeth without a second thought. Svala mewled with pleasure, her grip in his hair tightening. He moved his hips against her with renewed urgency, feeling her cunt flutter around him. As he chased his own end, all he could think of was making her forget that 'Bryn' had ever touched her...he would mark her so completely that he would take root under her skin...

"I'm going to fill you," he growled in her ear, relishing in her gasp. "I'm going to breed you so well that no one will deny that you're mine. When you're fat with my child, everyone will know." He gave one last powerful thrust and felt her clench around him, signaling her own end. She threw her head back and Shouted, one he was not familiar with, but he could guess its purpose as snow fluttered down all around them. The sight of her hazy green gaze locked on his, paired with the snowflakes caught in her wild hair and balancing on the tip of her nose had him groaning out his own end as he emptied himself into her.

She lied on top of him for a few moments, his cock still nestled inside of her. "Huh. I guess that's frost breath then," she said with a laugh. He let out a quiet moan- the vibrations from her laughter was doing delightful things to his cock.

"That's how you learn Shouts?" He asked her instead, drawing circles on her skin. The frostbitten patches were largely healed, leaving behind new pink skin. "By killing dragons and..." he made a face. "Well I sincerely hope that's not how Master Argenir 'gifted you his understanding' of them."

She stuck her tongue out at him, climbing off him with a sigh. "Don't be silly. But yes, when I kill a dragon and absorb its soul sometimes I get a Shout out of it." She shrugged. "It feels like cheating."

"It certainly beats ten years of study." He told her with a grin. He noticed she had picked up his discarded cloak and was wearing it once more. "Will you continue to wear my cloak?" They both knew which cloak he meant.

"It's a fine cloak," she said evenly, with her back to him. "But-"

"Damn it, woman," Ulfric swore, getting to his feet (and hoping she did not hear the audible crack of his knees). "It is not a difficult request. You jump into my bed at every opportunity, you seem to enjoy my company, you know I adore yours...what more do you need?"

"It just so happens I've already received a proposal," when she faced him once more her cheeks were flushed. "Happy?"

"No," Ulfric advanced on her, leading her backwards until her thighs bumped into the forgotten bed behind her. "I will not be happy until you choose me, choose your destiny to be queen. I will not be happy," he continued, hovering over her as she fell onto the bed, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she gazed at him through hooded eyes. "Until you are swollen with my seed." His thumbs brushed against her nipples and he could see her holding back her moans. That wouldn't do- he slotted his leg between her thighs, pressing it against her entrance. "You can try to tell me you want another, dovahkiin, but your body cannot lie."

She reached for him then, grabbing him by the neck and pulling him to her mouth for a bruising kiss. "Once might not take," she said, with a mischievous gleam in her green eyes. "What say you? Think you can keep up?" She dragged her wetness up and down his leg to make her intention clear.

"I may be old," he agreed, kissing his way from the bite he had placed on her neck, to the swell of her breasts, to her navel. "But Talos strike me down if I am ever unable to perform with such a goddess in my bed."