Chapter 2: Sithia Dragonborn

Serana braced herself. This was going to hurt. A lot. Maybe even kill her instantly if dragon's fire was hot enough.

"WULD!"

A sharp crack split the air. Something barrelled into her, knocking her—

She skidded to a halt, spluttering on snow. She spat out a mouthful and swiped snowflakes out of her eyes.

…Whirlwind…

"—SHUL!"

Sun.

Serana cringed. Flames crackled, blending with the dragon's enraged roar. She forced herself to stop trembling like a leaf. Yes, she'd had a narrow escape from that fire, but it was nowhere near her, thanks to…

'Sithia?!'

Serana twisted around to see her sprinting back towards the dragon, feet impossibly quiet in the snow, drawing her sword.

Serana struggled to her feet and raised her hands, her magic coalescing as familiar shards of ice. She hurled them at the dragon, a follow up melting away when the spells glanced off that scaly green hide. She'd have to try to hit weak points. Those eyes, burning with intelligence crueller than any vampire?

"FUS RO DAH!"

A wall of force slammed into the dragon. It crashed to the ground, snow erupting into the air.

Serana stared. Incredible. This mortal, her Voice more powerful than one of the dov, or at least that particular dovah. Maybe it had caught those wings at just the right angle, but it was still the most impressive thing Serana had ever seen in all her years. All her centuries.

Sithia faltered and doubled over, gasping for air.

Too powerful for her own good. Had she'd Shouted too much in such a short space of time for her body to cope with? If so, that was Serana's fault.

Guilt a heavy weight in her heart, Serana started to hurry over to her, her feet crunching in the snow, when Sithia groaned and straightened up. She staggered over to the dragon as it raised its head. It snapped at her, mouth big enough and teeth sharp enough to easily bite her in two – if it could.

Sithia sidestepped it and thrust her sword into its exposed throat, somehow finding a weak point between those tough scales. The dragon gurgled. Crimson blood trickled from its jaws.

Sithia let go of her sword and threw herself back as it collapsed. She tripped over and sprawled on the ground, panting. She reached up and pulled down her mask, breath misting the air with each wheezing exhalation. Golden light spread from her hands, streaming around her body to flow into her throat until it faded away. She'd definitely over-Shouted, then.

Crackling drew Serana's attention back to the dragon. Burning from the inside, the dragon's scaly skin flaked away, flesh dissolving into ash, and the blackened bones collapsed into the snow. But it was the blinding light streaming from the dragon into Sithia that made her gasp. She briefly shone as bright as the sun, although it didn't hurt to look at her unlike with the sun itself.

That explained what Sithia's strange power was, if the Shouting hadn't already implied it. Dovahkiin… A dragon on the inside. Aedric, not Daedric. Yet somehow it didn't hurt to be near her, not as proximity did to other Aedric influences like their shrines. The same with that dragon before it was killed by her pet dragon slayer. Dragons were far enough removed from the Aedra, maybe?

Sithia climbed to her feet and stumbled over to the dragon's skull. She pushed at it, muscles straining. It only wobbled slightly.

"Svaan tiid. Svaan tiid zu'u saan dii zahkriil. Nil kun nii!"

Every time. Every time I lose my sword. Void take it!

Serana stared. If that was not fluent, Sithia had a very strange idea of fluency. She shook her head and walked over to heave the dragon's skull up. Sithia's sword lay under it, blade snapped.

Sithia groaned. "Svaan—" She cleared her throat, snarling in the process. "Every fucking time! That takes longer to wear off every time too. I'll be stuck speaking dragon in the end, just like most of the sodding Greybeards."

So her temporary fluency in Dovahzul was a side effect of stealing a dragon's soul. Interesting…

"Something you forgot to mention, Dragonborn?"

Serana caught a brief glimpse of Sithia's face before she pulled up her mask. She met Serana's fascinated gaze with a furious glare.

"I have a name, you know. Dragonborn is what I am, it's not who I am. And no, I didn't forget to tell you. I'm not the only one withholding things here. Besides, would you have believed me? I'm not exactly the Nordic hero of legend."

"If you'd demonstrated your Thu'um—"

"Fuck you. Everyone and their dog demands that! I'm so fucking fed up of having to prove it, and even more so of the way it changes how everyone looks at me. As if I've turned into someone else. Something else. I'm still the same person I was before you knew I slay dragons and steal their souls better than I can do anything else. And the way you all instantly forget my name… How would you like it if everyone called you Vampire?"

"I'm sorry."

"Forget it. The sooner I get you home the better. One less person to look at me as if I'm no longer human."

'What I am, not who I am…' Back in Dimhollow, that was the exact reason she'd given for wanting to know Sithia's name. No wonder Sithia had seemed shaken; it had struck a chord. It had been exactly what she wanted to hear, and then Serana had ruined it within the same hour. She had to fix this. Somehow.

"Sithia, wait." Serana stepped in the way as she tried to stalk past, gently but firmly gripping her shoulders. "I understand. That's the same way mortals look at me if they realise that no one alive has eyes like mine or skin this pale and cold. And they're right. I'm not human, and haven't been for… for a very long time." 'Who knows how long by now.' "And you're not entirely human, you know. Dovah sil ahrk dovah sos. Human in body, but dragon in blood and soul."

"So the legend says, but if that's really true about the blood why didn't you notice something was different about me before you even opened your eyes?"

"I didn't exactly have anything to compare it to! Besides, everyone has their own unique flavour, even within family and race. Even a single person's blood varies depending on age, illness, emotions… I can tell a lot about someone through a single taste."

"Oh?" Sithia looked a little uneasy, but interested. "What does my blood tell you?" She stepped back and pulled her right gauntlet off, drew her dagger and cut it across her palm. A quick burst of golden light flared up as she healed it, and she held the bloodied Ebony out.

Serana caught a drop of the blood dripping from the blade on a fingertip, brought it to her lips and sucked it into her mouth. She inhaled sharply, eyes flying wide open. The urge to feed hit hard, to experience that richest taste combined with the warmth and freshness direct from the source.

She staggered back and closed her eyes as she fought for control, clamping her mouth shut until her fangs retracted back into their sheaths.

"Well?"

"Give me a minute," she said, her voice strained. "And don't stand so close. That was… your blood is… I can't even begin to describe it. Nothing compares to it." She sighed. "Whoever I drink next is going to taste so bland."

"Overpowering, huh? Guess you won't be getting to know anything about me that way."

"I didn't say that." Serana narrowed her eyes at her, frowning in concentration. "You're in the prime of your life, what is that for humans now… Twenty, thirty years old?"

"Thirty. At least, that's what I am. Other people might peak earlier or later." Sithia raised an eyebrow and scoffed, "But you could tell that just from looking at my face while you had the chance."

So she wanted proof. Fine, Serana could arrange that. "You've recently recovered from Bone Break Fever. And… you might want to take a cure disease potion if you have one, or hope that there's a shrine close enough. Or you'll be a creature of the night within three days."

"Damn it, you mean…"

"Yes, you've been infected by one of my kin. Recently, or I'd have been able to smell it. Taste reveals so much more."

"I thought I was just tired... Damn it. So that's what that weird sickly red spell was." She rummaged through her pack, but her hand was empty when it emerged. "Fuck. I don't have any potions to cure diseases. Hopefully I can buy one in Dawnstar, or find a shrine or a priest there." Sithia straightened up and looked back at Serana. Nervously. Odd, what was that about? "Anything else? You said something about emotions."

Ah. So Sithia had realised too late that her blood might reveal more than she wanted it to.

"That I did. Fear is bitter. That's why I prefer a willing meal, or at least sleeping – so long as my meal isn't in the grips of a nightmare. Yours isn't remotely bitter, though it could be sweeter. Holding onto that much anger isn't good for your heart, you know."

"Yes, yes, I know. But I think it comes with the territory of being Dragonborn. I've not met a dragon yet that wasn't angry. Is that all you know? My anger management issues drown anything else out?"

"Pretty much."

Sithia's relief was given away when her shoulders relaxed. She turned away, walking back towards the cave.

Serana smiled. There was something else that anger couldn't hide. Something very interesting. Amusing. Flattering, too. The mighty vampire hunting Dragonborn, attracted to someone she really shouldn't be. But it was hardly the mortal's fault. Another benefit of being a pure-blooded vampire: it preserved her looks from mortality instead of detracting from them as with half-bloods or even thinner blooded.

Seducing her would make it so much easier to keep her around, and so much easier to persuade her to let her feed from time to time. And it would be no hardship, that's for sure. Serana let her eyes wander up and down Sithia's body, lingering on the curves that leather armour did nothing to hide. No, no hardship at all. A pleasure.

It would be even easier to try to make a thrall of her, but she'd never liked to do that to mortals, preferring to befriend them. That way she could have intelligent conversation as well as blood. Until her father inevitably found out and gave her a choice of turning or killing her pet. That wouldn't happen this time.

Serana felt a twinge of guilt for her less than honourable intentions. She owed Sithia so much – her freedom, her life, guiding her home – and this really wasn't the best way to repay her. But it wasn't taking advantage of her. Not exactly. Despite the fact that she'd only just met Sithia, she already cared about her. The irony… Sithia herself had said that she was not her new best friend. Yet despite that she was the closest thing Serana had to a friend.

Wait. Sithia wasn't inspecting the damage the dragon's fire breath had done.

"We only just got out of that cave and you want to go back inside?"

"Not particularly, but in case you haven't noticed, I'm currently lacking a sword." With that, Sithia disappeared back inside Dimhollow. Serana reluctantly followed her, lingering as close as she could to the entrance while she watched Sithia roam around the sacrificial chamber inspecting the draugr and skeletons' weapons.

She returned with a notched ancient Nordic sword, scowling at it. "I'll need to get a better sword in Dawnstar. How many dragon bones and scales can you carry? I'll need to trade them if I want something that might survive the next dragon. Ebony, maybe."

"That last draugr had an Ebony—"

"Apart from the fact that it's too heavy, I've never used a greatsword before. Shorter blades are my speciality."

"Like swords?"

"Daggers. I had to train myself how to use a sword instead after killing my first dragon. I can manage to slay a dragon with a dagger, but it gets me far too close to those teeth for comfort."

Going back outside the cave, the agony of sunlight exposure hit Serana anew. She staggered, throwing an arm across her eyes to shield them from that horrible glare. In theory her hood should have been enough. In practice? Not at all.

"Can we please wait until dusk? I'm sorry, I can't travel when it's like this. Not until I can feed from someone living, it'll be just about bearable if I can do that."

"Fine." Sithia took her arm and guided her back inside the cave, away from the tyranny of the sun.

"What's it like to absorb a dragon's soul?"

Sithia looked up sharply at Serana's question. Her eyes glinted mischievously in the Magelight she'd cast as it grew darker inside the cave. "Better than sex."

If the mortal was trying to embarrass her, she'd have to do better than that. "Like feeding can be for vampires, then."

Sithia's heart skipped a beat.

Serana looked over at her, concerned. Sithia was pressed against the wall of the cave, as far away as she could get without fleeing outside. "What's wrong?"

"Should I be worried?"

"Why would you be?"

"If feeding is that good to you, and I happen to be the tastiest morsel you've ever met?" Sithia's fingers strayed to the hilt of her dagger. "Oh, no reason."

Serana laced her fingers together and made sure her fangs stayed put in their sheaths. "I told you, I prefer a willing meal. And I need a guide home, remember? Eating you wouldn't help me get there."

"What's stopping you from enthralling me and getting a guide and a meal in one convenient package?"

"Even if I wanted to – and I don't, never cared for having a thrall – I doubt it'd work on you any more than it would on a dragon."

"And when I get you home, then what'll stop you from turning me into a snack?"

Of course her new pet would have to be paranoid… "I know I'm asking a lot, but please, trust me. Betraying you like that would be a pretty horrible way to repay you for freeing me, saving me from dragon fire and getting me home."

"By the Nine, this is probably the stupidest thing I've ever done… But for some reason I can't just point you in the right direction, even if I gave you a map." Sithia shook her head. She added in a mutter at the edge of Serana's hearing: "Always had a weakness for a pretty face."

Serana suppressed a smile. So the mighty Dragonborn wasn't in denial about her attraction. Good to know. This should make it even easier to get that willing meal…

After the sun finally set, Sithia tapped her on the shoulder as Serana made a move to get outside, the moonlight calling out to her.

Serana whimpered at having to wait. Patience had never been her strong suit. "What is it?"

"You haven't told me where we're going."

"I told you, I don't—"

"How am I meant to get you home when I don't know where your home is?"

"Oh." Now she felt stupid, but at least it was also pretty stupid of Sithia not to ask until now. "It's on an island near Solitude. At least it was. I doubt either of my parents would move away from there, though. If they're still alive – well, undead – one of them should be there."

There was a rustle of parchment as Sithia dug her map out from her pack.

Serana turned to watch as Sithia unfolded the map and poked the island nearest Solitude. "Here?"

Serana stared at the map. It was drawn in ink, except for a blood red 'x' that must be marking where they stood. An intake of breath revealed that it was a drop of Sithia's own blood. She watched, fascinated, as the blood flowed to the island Sithia had touched, leaving a thin red line. Showing the route to get there…

"Yes, I have an enchanted map. A map I'm trying to use to see where we need to go. Where is – or was – your home?"

"Sorry. It's, well, it's not on your map."

"That's impossible, this map has every part of Skyrim on it."

"My family's island isn't part of Skyrim. It's here." Serana reached over to tap the map. No trail of blood spread to it. She poked it again. "Why isn't it working?"

Sithia swatted her hand away and tapped that spot on the map twice. That line of blood traced the route to it.

"It's keyed to you, isn't it?"

"Obviously."

"It's fantastic! Did you make it?"

"I'm no enchanter. It was a gift from a very appreciative court wizard. He's fascinated by dragons, and gave me this in exchange for a sample of my blood as payment. He needed some for the map anyway, so it was the best deal I've ever made." She folded the map up and shoved it back into her pack.

Serana darted outside. She sighed happily as the moonlight caressed her skin for the first time in centuries.

Sithia's heartbeat was the only indication of her presence, her movements magically muffled. That and her breathing, Serana mused, as she heard Sithia's breath catch.

She turned to look at her and found the mortal staring at her, transfixed. Oh, right. Serana had been told before by her proud parents that her beauty was at its best by the light of the moons, even before she became a vampire. Her physical charms certainly had their benefits… although at times it was a very mixed blessing, considering that they were a small part of what earned her and her parents a Daedric Prince's favour. Catching the eye of the most powerful mortal in existence was an unexpected bonus.

Serana clicked her fingers, and smirked when Sithia blinked. She looked away, a blush spreading across what little of her face was exposed.

Serana took pity on the flustered Dragonborn, walking over to the remains of the dragon and collecting as many bones and scales as she was willing to carry.

"Come on, let's go. We won't get to Dawnstar tonight, but I want to get as far as we can."

They travelled as far as they could along the snow blanketed road before the sunrise made Serana stop in her tracks. She hissed and pulled her hood up. It was a relief when Sithia got her tent up to shield her from the sun, although it was surreal to watch her pull it from her knapsack. No wonder she'd wanted Serana to carry all of the dragon remains. That pack had to be enchanted, but Serana had already suspected that – it should have been overflowing from the stamina potions Sithia had been steadily consuming all night.

"Aren't you going to sleep?"

Sithia pointedly retrieved another of the sickly green potions instead.

'Damn it.' That was a painful reminder that Sithia didn't trust her. Especially not after she'd stupidly revealed how delicious her blood was.

Serana laid a hand over the bottle when Sithia moved to uncork it. "Don't. I may not be quite the alchemist my mother is—" At least she hoped 'is' was still the case… "—but I know that an overdose of those could kill you."

"I know my limits. And I know too many of these are bad for my health. I need them sometimes anyway, especially if I get tired and need to stay sharp." Sithia met her gaze, eyes just as hard as when they'd met. "Let me put this in no uncertain terms: I'm not about to sleep around you. Especially not when I know how tasty you find my blood."

"I've told you, I prefer a willing meal."

"Yes, but you said it yourself that's because fear tastes bitter. Thing is, I'm not afraid of you."

"I need you to get me home, remember? I'm not about to drain you dry."

"So you say, but what's to stop you from taking any chance you can? Just to have a little bit. And then you might get carried away."

"Look, I'm perfectly in control of my bloodlust. Please, just trust me. Don't do this to yourself. At least rest in Dawnstar when we get there. I won't try anything anyway, but I certainly won't around other people. Feeding is a private thing, you know. It's almost as intimate as turning someone, or can be when done gently."

Sithia shoved her hand away and drained the bottle. She tossed it aside. "I know what I'm doing. I know to stop when I start seeing double, and that won't happen for a few days yet. Besides, I need to use these things to travel at night."

"Then we travel during the day. I won't risk this – won't risk you."

"You just want my blood to taste at its best. Doing this protects me better."

Serana clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms as she resisted the urge to scream. "What can I do to prove that you can trust me?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"Sithia..." She tried and failed to stifle the whine in her voice. "What is your problem with me? I thought..." Her shoulders slumped. "Never mind."

"That I like you? That's precisely the problem. I like you too much. I can't trust you because I can't trust myself."

Well, that was a relief and a bitter blow at the same time. But she could work with that. "I swear to you that I won't feed from you unless you invite me to of your own free will."

"I'm sorry, I can't—"

"I swear it by the blood of my ancestors." Serana drew her Elven dagger and sliced it across her palm, letting the deep crimson blood spill onto the snow. She looked down at the cut when it failed to close. Oh, damn it, she should have waited until nightfall to make that promise. It wouldn't heal so long as she was in the sun, unless she fed. And she'd just sworn not to do that with the only source of blood at hand. The tent didn't provide enough shade, the light still penetrated the cloth too much for her own good.

Sithia sighed heavily. "Oh, all right." Finally. She must have felt the magic behind Serana's oath. If she broke it there would be some kind of serious consequence. Exactly what she didn't know, as she'd never broken a blood oath, but it would be unpleasant. Rather more unpleasant than a minor wound that wouldn't heal for hours yet.

Sithia pulled out some strips of cloth and crouched beside Serana to bandage her hand. "Stupid vampire. Wait until you can heal yourself before you pull something that dramatic again."

As embarrassing as it was to be chastised, especially by a mortal so much younger than she was, it felt good to know that Sithia cared.

"Thank you. Are you going to get some rest now?"

Sithia pulled her bedroll from her pack. "Yes, provided you don't take that dagger to yourself again."

"I don't intend to make a habit of it. Sleep well."

The rest of their journey to Dawnstar was uneventful, unhindered by the beautiful Skyrim weather. They did come across a giant camp, but the single sleepy resident was easily handled. Sithia hamstrung the poor thing while Serana pounced when he collapsed. Unfortunately giant blood was worse than that of a skooma addict, but still more palatable than that dead thrall. She'd be able to tolerate sunlight now, sparing Sithia from using quite so many of those horrible potions.

The Tower of Dawn loomed on the horizon. At first Serana thought it looked much the same as it did from the times she'd seen it when sailing past on the way to Winterhold, and the one time she went ashore with her mother to get to Dimhollow. But… No. It was a ruin, a large chunk of it bitten out by time.

Serana bit her lip and looked over at Sithia. She wanted to ask exactly how much time had passed, but she was afraid of the answer now.

Sithia spoke up as though she could feel Serana's eyes on her. "Before we reach civilisation, I should mention that the name I tend to go by is 'Cynthia'. So when we're among innocent citizens, try to remember to call me that. It's close enough that people probably won't notice if you forget, though."

"Why tell me your real name?" It certainly hadn't been because she trusted her.

"I figured a vampire wouldn't judge me for it. At least not one wearing a choker like yours."

"Choker?"

"The metal thing around your neck with the ugly face on it. Forgotten you're wearing it?"

Serana's hand flew to her neck and she grimaced. 'If only…' "Oh, that. And no, I don't judge you or your parents for worshipping Sithis."

"Good. By the way, how do you take that off?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because it looks uncomfortable."

"It is, considering that it's silver." Sithia's eyes widened briefly before they narrowed in concern, so Serana hastened to add, "Don't worry, it doesn't really hurt me. It would have to penetrate the skin for that. The ache from my thirst is worse."

"Good, but still, why in the name of Sithis would you wear it?"

"You're assuming I wear it by choice." Serana looked away. This was getting far too close to a topic she wanted to avoid. "It was a gift, and I can't take it off. Besides, that cowl of yours looks uncomfortable too."

"It's a lot more comfortable than my head would be without it. In case you haven't noticed, it's winter in Skyrim, and not all of us have a Nordic vampire's immunity to cold. Every single piece of my armour is enchanted so I don't feel it quite so badly."

That didn't explain why she'd kept the cowl on back in Dimhollow. Surely she didn't think it would protect her neck from a determined vampire?

"I guess I'll have to wait until we're somewhere warmer so I can see what you look like."

"You've already seen my face."

"Briefly. Too briefly."

"Why are you so interested anyway?"

"Because I'm interested in you. Getting to know you, I mean." Serana paused, frowning. There was something bothering her about Sithia's name. "What you said about people forgetting your name once they know what you are… Why does it bother you so much when it's not your real name they're—"

Sithia growled. "It may not be my true name but it's the closest thing I have to it. I can count on the fingers of one hand how many people have used my real name – that's including you! At this point, Cynthia might as well be my actual name. Just… drop it, okay?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise! You aren't the problem with that any more. You know better. You can't apologise for anyone else." Sithia dug a cloak out from her pack, crossing over to Serana to wrap it around the Scroll. "There. Anyone who can use magic will still feel its presence, but it might not attract so much attention now."

"Thank—Wait, what's that?"

This time Sithia heard it too, her head turning in the direction of the distant roar echoing from Dawnstar.

"Dragon. Wait here!" Sithia started sprinting along the snowy road.

Serana dropped her armful of dead dragon and hurried after her.

"I said wait there, you stupid vampire!" Sithia shouted back over her shoulder.

Serana drew level with her. Sithia could run fast for a mortal, but she couldn't outrun a vampire before dawn. "I'm not leaving you to face a dragon alone!"

"Don't be a fucking idiot," Sithia panted. "I can kill dragons in my sleep. Stay back!"

"No, I can help you. For all you know this one might be a frost breather. You need me – that sword is almost blunt."

"Fine, just don't get yourself—"

The dragon soared above them, swooping around for another pass, blue scales shimmering in the light of the imminent sunrise. "FO KRAH DIIN!"

The blizzard of ice streaming from the dragon's gaping maw came with a brief moment of relief. As a pure-blooded Volkihar vampire, ice was her element. Fear came fast on the heels of that relief. Sithia was directly in the path of the frost breath. Enchanted armour or not, that extreme burst of cold might well kill her.

Serana moved as fast as only a vampire could, shoving her Dragonborn out of danger. The shock of the cold stole her breath away, but it couldn't hurt her. She raised her hands and sent a burst of lightning and an Ice Spike at the dragon as it swept overhead.

The ice coating her hair, exposed skin and armour broke away as she moved, jumping up to grab the dragon's tail. Serana swung herself up onto its spiny back, digging her dagger under its scales and tearing herself an opening. She reached inside, snapped the nearest rib and plunged the Elven blade inside as far as she could reach.

The dragon screamed and plummeted into a snowdrift. Serana held on grimly. This would be so embarrassing if the dragon rolled over and crushed her.

Her unorthodox mount shuddered and fell limp. From near its head, Sithia cursed.

Serana blinked. She hadn't noticed Sithia's approach. She pulled her arm out of the dragon's side, plastered in hot dragon blood. She absently sucked her hand and bracer clean, savouring the rich flavour that almost matched Sithia's, and moved close enough to see Sithia tug her sword out of the dragon's eye socket. The blade had broken, leaving her holding its hilt.

Just like Serana's first dragon, the second burned from within, the pure light of its soul flowing into Sithia.

"Nil kun nii," Sithia muttered, and tossed the remains of the draugr sword aside. She brushed off the snow coating her armour. From the coverage, it seemed that Serana had managed to shove her into a snowdrift. She finally pulled that damn cowl off to shake the snow out of it, dropped it onto her pack and started picking it out of her hair.

Dark hair, every bit as dark as her eyebrows, and even darker than Serana's own. It was kept braided back out of the way except for two loose forelocks framing her face. An angular face with high cheekbones and a narrow chin, her skin almost as pale as Serana's but still with the warmth of life. That explained why it was so obvious when she blushed, poor thing. She'd be pretty if not for the harsh lines etched into her skin from too much scowling and too little smiling.

Except her lips finally curled into a smile, softening her features and transforming them from potentially pretty to breathtaking beauty.

'Like it or not, you're going to smile far more often if I have anything to do with it, and at least lose the mask even if you have to keep that damn cowl.'

"Geblaan?"

…Complete? What could she possibly mean by that? Oh. Right, finished.

"Sorry," Serana muttered.

Sithia cleared her throat and coughed as the influence of her stolen dragon soul wore off. "You were staring."

"I was half expecting scars. I didn't have time to notice any earlier."

"Those are on my body." Sithia's eyes widened as though she suddenly realised what she had let slip. She squeaked – such a funny, pathetic little sound to escape the big bad Dragonborn – her cheeks burning as she looked away. She snatched up her cowl and tugged it back on, together with the mask.

One day, Serana promised herself, she was going to steal that oh-so-frustrating thing and make sure Sithia couldn't hide herself with it ever again.

"Dragonborn!" The first of Dawnstar's guards had appeared, with what looked like the whole town following him. Including a gaunt old man wearing fine clothes and a silver circlet set with sapphires, who shoved past his guard and seized Serana's hand. Fortunately he went for the one that was still warm from being buried in the dragon, so he didn't notice she was far too cold to be alive.

"Dawnstar owes you a debt, Dragonborn."

Serana looked helplessly at Sithia.

Sithia groaned and dropped her head into her hands. "She's not the Dragonborn. I am."

"You? But you're not a Nord!"

"My Jarl," the nearest guard murmured, "Rumour has it that the Dragonborn is an Imperial woman."

"I see. Well, prove it."

Serana winced. She could feel Sithia seething beside her. This was not going to end well…

AN: Jarl Skald the Elder may or may not regret that demand. What do you think Sithia will do? What do you think of the chapter in general – the dragon fights, how Serana and Sithia are getting along so far, everything else… How am I doing?

Dovahzul translations from thuum dot org and a bit of grammatical stuff from the Unofficial Elder Scrolls Pages. I've probably made mistakes. If so, then I guess that means Sithia's speaking like a dragon can be a bit scrambled by the death of the dragon whose soul she just snaffled. And that Serana isn't quite as fluent as she thinks she is.

Coming up next: a night in Dawnstar and a lot of rowing to get home. Hopefully meeting up with daddy dear too, provided the chapter ends where it's supposed to.

Edited to correct a few errors. Please tell me if you spot any, as they drive me crazy when I spot them with later rereading.