An hour into the climb, the air started thinning and getting colder. Luckily, they'd planned for this and brought along thick fur cloaks in their packs. There was nothing they could do about the hard breathing, though.

They were nearing the top of the mountain. "Are you sure you want to do this, Ulfric?" asked Thorunn.

He had frost bite in his brows and along the ends of his blond hair. "I am. Are you?"

She didn't answer that.

The dragon did not immediately detect them. It was sleeping, one giant mass of scaled, spiked flesh curled into a ball with its wings folded over its body. In this state, the beast almost looked peaceful. Almost. The long snout lined with powerful, large canines and the talons protruding from its toes was a bit off-putting.

"We should go for a preemptive strike," Galmar suggested, cowering behind a boulder along with the rest of the party.

"No," Thorunn said firmly. "It has to be a fair fight."

"Why? Are wizards going to be sicced on us if we tallywack the poor beast before it gets its cup of coffee?"

Thorunn glared. "This is no joke, Galmar. Let me wake the dragon."

"N-"

"Galmar," Ulfric intervened icily. "She's the Dragonborn. Let her."

"Yeah, Galmar. Let her." Thorunn insisted.

Galmar grumbled beneath his breath, then jerked his greatsword towards the sleeping hulk, giving her the okay. Thorunn stood from her crouched position and neared the creature, heart drumming against her chest. Imperials were easy to take down. Draugr were easy to take down. A dragon was not, especially when she didn't even want to do it. Up close, she could see the dragon's hide was bronze in color. This was going to be one hell of a fight.

Thorunn gulped and opened her mouth. "Zuwuth gein, vopraan." Elder one, awake.

The dragon's eyes opened, then widened, then furrowed in rage. Much to her dismayed surprise, it did not take flight, as they had planned.

Nothing to do about that now. Thorunn made the first move, exactly as she'd said she would. "Yol, toor, shul!" she Shouted. A projection of fire hailed from her mouth. She could have been mistaken for a dragon herself if it weren't for the futile human body.

The flames shocked the dragon into taking action. It knew what Thorunn was doing. Greet me as the dovah do, Paarthurnax had said, then taught her the fire breath. The fire was not an attack; it was a greeting.

But not always a welcoming one. The dragon's massive claws swiped at her, ripping through the air. She brought Ysgramor's shield up just in time to deflect the hit. Tensing her muscles to tighten her grip and make sure the shield wasn't knocked out of her hand in a second attack, she tossed a look over her shoulder at the others. "Now!"

They were eager. Galmar rushed forward, bellowing, "You said it would fly!" along the way. He went around to the dragon's rear.

"I say a lot of things!" Thorunn called back.

She readied her axe and took a swing at the dragon's powerful jaw. It hissed in pain as the blade cut through flesh, then flashed its teeth in a warning. Before it could retort to Thorunn, however, it was forced to spin around and address Ulfric's quick thrashes and Galmar's robust hacks.

In its turn, the elder dragon's tail swiped Thorunn right off her feet. An arrow whizzed past her head as she went down, piercing the arrow-shaped tail of the beast. It was reassuring to know Aela was active in the fight. Thorunn fell to the ground, her heavy armor doing jack shit for trying to get to her feet. Clenching her jaw, she planted her shield in the ground and lifted her weight up from there.

The dragon was snapping at Galmar now, and it looked like it was winning. Another arrow zoomed past, this time planted in the dragon's back. That would do no good. The hide was thickest in the back area and thinnest in the stomach area. "Go for the stomach!" Thorunn shouted, bringing her axe down on the dragon's tail. It barely skimmed the skin.

The worst thing about fighting dragons is that they never got tired. They could wait out the fight until its enemy simply collapsed from exhaustion, if it came to that. They could circle ahead without regard for resting, wait until whoever was foolish enough to challenge it went to sleep, then go from there.

Basically, fighting dragons was no easy task, as Ulfric and Galmar were quickly learning. Ulfric's duel-wielding seemed to be slowing down, but he'd hacked up the dragon's right wing enough to make its flying at least rickety. Which reminded Thorunn, why the hell was this thing not taking flight?

Galmar had his greatsword's hilt covering his face. The dragon's talons were rapidly striking at the hilt and, as Thorunn expected, it ripped through the wood like wet tissue paper. Galmar was disarmed and very pissed off.

Sighing, Thorunn rushed ahead. "Galmar!" she called, unsheathing Wuuthrad from its clasp on the back of her armor. Once she had his attention, she slid the massive battleaxe under the dragon's belly and to Galmar. She prayed to Talos he wouldn't get that one maimed. Not only was it a weapon to be reckoned with, it was a priceless relic that belonged to Ysgramor himself.

Thorunn returned to the fight the moment Galmar's hands were wrapped around Wuuthrad's hilt. "Switch places!" she ordered. Galmar hacked the battleaxe into the dragon's jaw, wrenching it free as he swerved to the side to follow suit. The dragon roared in pain, the ground shaking with the power of its voice.

Galmar's side happened to be on the cliff side of the mountain. Balance was not the strong point of someone who wore heavy armor, so Thorunn had to simply hope this wouldn't be a problem. She circled around to the dragon's front. A gash, painted with blood and bits of torn flesh hanging from it, made its mouth look a lot wider than it actually was.

Dragons only got angrier when they were injured. Just as it was bringing its ginormous claws down for a strike, Thorunn knelt to cover her entire body with Ysgramor's shield. It wasn't enough.

The dragon's foot clashed down onto the shield and Thorunn had no choice but to roll the other way in order to avoid being smashed. She slid against the icy snow-coated mountain, unable to catch herself before she went spiraling over the edge. Luck played to her favor, and from where she landed, the height was low enough for her to easily climb back up on the mountain. Thank Talos for uneven mountains.

She went to climb back up to the peak when something bronze caught her eye. She looked over and her eyes widened on instinct. Snuggled into a nest made from twigs, gold coins, and gems was a large, golden egg. Gasping, Thorunn threw herself onto the mountain's peak.

"Stop!" she bellowed. They could not kill a mother dragon. "STOP!"

They didn't stop. The dragon was fighting a hopeless battle as it got impended from all directions; Aela's arrows pierced its front, Ulfric's axes gashed its wings, Galmar's battleaxe ripped through its flesh like nothing. The dragon's movements were slowing down and becoming less enthusiastic; it knew it was losing, and it showed in its eyes.

Thorunn didn't know if it could even recover from its injuries, but she was not going to deliver the killing blow to this creature. She rushed forward and tried to wrench Ulfric from it, tugging on his arms.

He shoved her off. "What the hell are you doing?" he shouted.

"Stop fighting!" she ordered, voice raising several octaves in her desperation.

"Too late for that now!" And he kept on.

The only one hesitating was Aela. She was watching Thorunn with narrowed, confused eyes. Thorunn shook her head, and Aela lowered her bow.

The dragon stopped fighting as well. Thorunn's breath hitched. "Stop!" she tried again. This time, she got results.

"What's she on about?" Galmar bellowed.

Ulfric, too, held annoyance as he hastily turned around to face her. The dragon was laying limply on the ground, in a position a dragon should never lay in, its own blood starting to pool around its figure. The last breaths of its life fell through large, arched nostrils. Thorunn ignored the two men and approached the dragon, disregarding its ferocity and resting a hand on its head. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and the dragon's eyes closed.

She whirled on Ulfric and Galmar. "You idiots," she seethed. "This dragon has an egg!" Up until now, she didn't know dragons even had babies. She'd thought they came straight from the deranged asshole of Oblivion or something.

Ulfric and Galmar exchanged a look, neither of them realizing what they'd done. "A dragon egg could make a lot of coin," Ulfric admitted with a shrug.

She wondered how big of a bounty would be placed on her head for slapping a king. "But you won't be selling it," she said coldly.

Ulfric shrugged again. "Then what do you suggest we do with it?"

The egg would most certainly die out here alone. It'd either be picked apart and dissected by vultures or die from hypothermia. Thorunn knew nothing about taking care of dragons, but she saw only one clear path to ensure its life.

She swallowed the knot in her throat. "We take it."