A/N: Wheeeeeheeeew! I'm on a roll! As an extra special Christmas present, I'm giving you all another chapter. The chorus of unenthusiastic yays may now ensue. In this chapter, nothing happens! Extra boring yay! Anyway, drop a review to let me know how this chapter makes you feeeel. Lol. Enjoy my awesome peeps that I love!

Chapter 21

After the battle, I healed Silas' wounds and tended to my own. I still felt dazed, but thankfully had control of my body now. I was still puzzled by what had happened earlier, but as the day wore on, I credited it to my dovah sil.

It worried me. If that were to happen in another battle, my soul causing me to charge, heedless of all danger, into the fray, what would happen? Would my dragon soul have the sense to stop fighting and run before I died?

These thoughts consumed my mind as I trudged up the road to Whiterun. We still needed supplies, and the earlier battle would not stop my trip to town. The fact that we had battled Alduin- and he had run from us- was encouraging. Perhaps, one day, I would rise to defeat him. The feud had given me confidence.

And then a thought stopped me in my tracks.

Silas. If he hadn't been there, I would have been dragon food before the battle even began. I was expected to defeat Alduin on my own. At the moment, it was next to impossible. Silas had saved me again. I was nothing without him.

And that made me mad. I was weak. The people depended on me, and I depended on my follower-turned-dragon. I was a disgrace to the line of the Dragonborn. Unworthy of the title, the fame, the trust.

As if to mirror my mood, the skies clouded. Just as I reached the city gates, it began to pour. I was thankful for the rain. It washed away all traces of the hot tears streaming down my face. I walked through the deserted streets, head hung low in shame.

I blindly pushed my way into the Bannered Mare. Today, the heat from the great fire was a comfort. I chose to sit in a secluded corner, away from the other patrons. I sat for a while, staring into the flames, hoping that the warmth would draw me from my chilly depression.

"Can I get you anything?" I looked up to see a tall, busty barmaid standing before me, one hand on her hip. Her expression was gentle, her voice soft. I wondered just how bad I looked.

"I'll have a tankard of mead," I said tiredly. She nodded once and moved away. The bard struck up a cheery tune in hopes to drive off the low morale. It seemed that today was not a good day for many, and not just me.

The chair across from me scraped back just as the barmaid brought my mead. A tall Nord woman dressed in steel armor plopped noisily into the seat. I nodded thanks to the barmaid and turned to face the Nord woman.

"Can I help you?" I asked, trying to be polite.

"You're the Dragonborn, aren't you?" the woman asked. I nodded slowly. "Congratulations."

"For what?" I asked, taking a sip of my mead.

"Your victory over the World Eater," she said. "I was out hunting when I saw you battling him. And don't worry," she said with a wink, "I won't tell anyone."

"Tell anyone what?"

"About your dragon." The sly smirk on her face worried me. My thoughts immediately turned to what had happened at Dragon Bridge. I couldn't let happen again. And then she said something that I wasn't expecting at all. "I'm jealous."

My jaw dropped. My fingers, which had been wrapped tightly around the hilt of my sword, loosened their grip. I took a gulp from my tankard to calm my nerves.

"You're better than you think you are," she stated. "I've seen you in action a few times. I'm glad you're on our side." She smiled. I couldn't help but smile back.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"Well," she smacked her hand on the table and leaned forward, "I've got to get going. Busy day, eh? Good luck Freya." With that, she stood and walked away. None of the other patrons even glanced at her when she left. I thought it was odd that she knew my name, but didn't fret over it. Most of the people in Skyrim knew my name simply because I was the Dragonborn.

I finished off my tankard in a few large swallows and made my way to the counter to buy some supplies. I took my time bartering, asking for the lowest possible price. When I was satisfied, I loaded my things into my pack, arranging them so that there was enough room.

I left the bar, trying to decide whether or not to clear up the weather. In the end, I let it rain. My mood was significantly improved. What's wrong with a little water? I thought as I made my way back to where I had left Silas.

O.o.O

Freya had been gone for over an hour. I was beginning to grow worried that Alduin had come back for a rematch, and I wasn't there to help her. What if she had been attacked by werewolves? Or bandits? I was on the verge of flying to the city to look for her when she returned, soaked to the bone, but smiling.

"I got everything," she said. "And I met the strangest woman. I didn't even think to ask for her name…" she trailed off. "I was feeling a little down," Freya began, "and then this woman shows up. She told me she saw us fighting Alduin today, and congratulated our victory."

She told me of what the woman had said, and how it had given her hope. She also made mention of how no one noticed this woman, nor acknowledged her presence. For some reason, I thought of Mara.

"Did you have anything to do with this?" I asked.

"Her confidence was low. She needed reassuring that she can indeed defeat Alduin on her own. So I visited her. Next time you two happen upon trouble, let her do most of the fighting. She'll never say anything to you about it, but she feels useless. Let her bolster her own confidence for once. Let her kill something. Let her do what she does best, Silas. What she was born for."

I didn't like to think of Freya as born for killing, but Mara was right. As Dragonborn, Freya held the sole responsibility of ridding this world of the Destroyer. It was her destiny, and she was more than capable. I needed to let go of the desire to keep her from harm, and let her do her job.

But it's never easy to let go of the one thing you love most in the world.