Their small group of travelers had started their trek sometime in the night. While the journey was only a few hours, River's father, Erik, was elderly. He'd been searching all over Skyrim, chasing the stories about his daughter. They made camp about two miles outside of Riverwood. They were ridiculously close now. The knowledge that he was so close made Vilkas all the more eager to get to his wife.

Farkas had volunteered to gather more firewood and Aela thought she smelled an elk nearby and went off to hunt . That left him setting up bedrolls awkwardly with his father in law. Erik, for his part, seemed perfectly content to continue the set-up at camp. Vilkas took a seat on a nearby rock and began to sharpen his great-sword. Erik took a seat across from him, idly thumbing his bow. A silence stretched between them and Vilkas had to force himself not to stare.

"So, boy," Erik was the first to break the silence. "You married my little girl."

"Aye." Vilkas finally looked up, wary.

A grin spread across the older man's face. "And you didn't even ask her father? I find that a terrible insult."

Vilkas flushed. "She never- I didn't- It was- She was-"

The old man burst out laughing, a booming, jolly sound. Vilkas got the feeling that in another life it was a sound used often. That didn't help the embarrassment from creeping up his neck. Eventually the laughter died down, although the mirth in Erik's eyes remained.

"Calm yer-self boy, it was a jest." Erik said, wiping away a stray tear of laughter. "Knowing my girl the way I do, she probably said nothing and popped the question first, eh?" When Vilkas said nothing Erik continued, this time with more of a somber edge. "She always was good at hiding her feelings and thoughts. Didn't speak for at least four months after her mother died."

Vilkas didn't know how to respond. He'd noticed that as well. After Skjor had died River and Aela had started their own private campaign, but River had withdrawn farther than Aela, no longer smiling or dancing with the others . Then Kodlak's death occurred and it took the curing of the beast-blood for River to even come out of her room. It took their wedding for River to even begin dancing again.

Just as he opened his mouth a roar that was becoming far too common, sounded overhead. Vilkas grip on his great-sword tightened and he looked up, just in time to see a grey scaled dragon soaring two miles ahead of their location . Erik's armor banged slightly as he got up. Farkas and Aela burst back into camp, both breathing heavy from the run.

"Vilkas! That's-"

But Aela didn't have to finish. The beast gave a mighty shout and was answered by an even greater one that brought it down and out of the sky. Vilkas felt a tug on his heart.

"River!"

He was running toward the area where the dragon landed, his weapon drawn. Loud crashing behind him signaled the others following him. Vilkas tried to swallow the worried lump in his throat as he ran, but it only migrated to his chest. He knew that River was fully capable of taking on a dragon alone, but it was always the thought of 'what if?' that consistently plagued him.

They passed a small outcrop of rock, darted up a small hill, passed a small apiary, around the front of a rather well constructed building and came face to face with... A skeleton of a dragon. And two very disgruntled looking women. Vilkas recognized one of them and she in turn raised a hand to greet them.

"Hail Companions." Lydia nodded in respect as she walked forward. Vilkas sheathed his sword and hear the rest following suit. Lydia's eyes passed over each of them, sticking on Erik. "This face I don't recognize."

"Lydia." Vilkas clapped the woman once on her shoulder. "This is Erik. River's father."

The woman, for her credit, didn't so much as flinch. "I suppose that is why she introduced herself as River Eriksdotter when we first met."

The old man gave another hearty laugh. "Did she? Oh the little brat." Erik stepped forward with his arms outstretched, clasping the woman's hand in greeting. "And what is it you do here with my daughter, Lydia?"

"I used to be her housecarl in Whiterun. Now I am her steward here in Falkreath. Rayya," here Lydia turned to indicate the darker woman, "is her housecarl here."

"My gangly, skinned knees, freckle faced, little girl holds so many titles?" There was awe and pride and a little bit of sadness in Erik's voice. "My little spitfire?"

"Yes, sir. And I'm sure there's a great many more she's not telling us about."

"I'm sure, the brat. Where is she?"

"Training in the cellar at the back of the house. But she said she didn't want to be distracted !" But Lydia's words met the doors as Erik had started moving the moment she gave the direction. Lydia looked to Vilkas. He and the other's could only shrug.

Step, swing, step, twirl, step, swing. One, two, three, four, five, six. Repeat. Methodical. Don't think about it. Don't think about anything. Just do. Get it done. There are no dragons. Your family is still alive. No one is injured . You are not the sole hope for this world. You are not alone. Step, swing, step, creak. Wait what? River turned, ready with her fury, only to drop Dragonbane with a clatter.

"Did you learn nothing, my daughter?"

River didn't reply, not trusting her voice took one cautious step forward, then another. Finally she threw caution to the wind and raced into the open arms of the grisled old man. She hugged him fiercely as tears streamed down her face. Arms just as strong as she remembered hugged herjust as tight. And it was real. She wasn't hallucinating this time.

"Papa. Oh papa."

"You're going to dampen my beard, brat."

"Uh-huh."

"Got any good stories to tell?"

River stepped back as far as his arms would allow. She gave him a watery smile. "Lots."