Who could call my name without regretting
who could see beyond this my darkness
and for once save their own prayers
who could mirror down just a little
of their sun

Katatonia, Tonight's music

Erandur was praying in dark hours of his watch when he heard a sharp intake of breath. He looked at Runa, worried, for her sleep has been restless for most part of the night. She sat up, gasping for air; she was looking around frantically and he saw her eyes they were shining with tears. Another nightmare, he thought. How painfully ironic, how unfair that she would save the people of Dawnstar from night terrors sent by a mad Divine and fall prey to them herself. After Avachnzel, she seemed a bit more confident, but the nightmares still plagued her. It worried him; ever since they ended Vaermina's reign over Dawnstar, ever since he so openly defied the one he used to worship, he was afraid he'd feel the tendrils of the daedric prince's presence again, although she has not made herself known so far. He knew Runa has been suffering from nightmares for years and that her dreams were not a consequence of his own actions but it did nothing to ease his anxiety.

He went over to her and lowered himself to the ground slowly, trying not to scare her more, and touched her arm. She almost jumped, like a frightened animal, but calmed down a bit when she recognized him. He started stroking her back lightly, feeling strange, out in the open, on a foreign territory. He had far more experience in inflicting nightmares on others, not trying to soothe their aftermath. His years in the service of Mara have not changed it – he was a stranger when it came to connecting with another. But this was her.

"It's allright, it was just a dream."

Just a dream, he thought bitterly. He didn't sound convincing, even to himself, but she seemed not to mind, grasping any strands of comfort he would throw her way.

„Just a dream, I know…" he felt her muscles were tense, her body was shivering.

„Do you want to tell me?" he asked quietly.

Runa remained quiet for a while, trying to suppress the shivers, looking into the fire as if she wanted to find answers burning among the flames.

„Him, again." she started hesitantly.

Erandur did not rush her, he didn't have to ask what she meant. What else could it be but the shadow that was looming over her existence, no matter how hard she tried to forget it.

„What if I am too weak to stop the tide?" she asked with a small voice and turned her gaze to him. It shocked him to see this much fear and doubt in her eyes. She was still affected by the dark visions she had seen in her dream and wasn't acting as usual.

„No one would hear it… How could I even say it aloud?" her words started flowing quickly, a feverish litany on her tongue "How can I… Who would they all turn to if I… Radac asked me if I was strong enough… to carry the burden of my potential. Am I… strong enough? Sometimes I just wish I could run away."

She looked deep into his eyes, her pupils dilated.

„Erandur…" she whispered „I'm scared."

Seeing her like this broke his heart. Ever since they met, he knew that although he was much older and experienced more of life, it was her who was his rock, her who gave him a second chance to make things better, her to always be there to reassure him. He was so stricken with guilt for his past actions that her surprising acceptance threw him off axis, but restored part of his inner balance. Most of the time he thought he did not deserve it; but sometimes he would hear the little voice in his subconscious, happy that she seemed content to travel with him, to prefer his company above others', so that he could have her undivided attention and acceptance. He basked in it, ever hungry for more.

Then it suddenly dawned on him that thinking that way he was no better than all the others who would happily place the fabled dragonborn on their shields and banners, weigh her down with the burden and hide behind her, behind the symbol, letting her carry the weight of this land's fate on her own. They have grown close in a sense of mutual understanding that he has not known for years, not since he left the Temple. He owed her something better than empty admiration. He knew she was strong, and if anybody could attempt to stop Alduin, it was her. He would need to find a way to help her, to stop leaning on her for support, to be her rock instead from now on. To protect her, so that she could protect others. To make her see, understand what a rare thing she was in this hopeless world.

Looking at her now he knew nobody else has ever seen this side of the dragonborn and it made him feel both honored and sad. The jarls, the Blades, the common folk, they would choose to see a strong willed Nord, a legend incarnate, gifted with ancient magic, someone destined to battle the dragons, to save innocents, to step into their songs. All this was true. But all he could see in this moment was a scared, young woman who was strong and honorable enough not to refuse her burden but was slowly being crushed under its weight.

„Come here" he said quietly, and slowly put his arms around her, bringing her closer until she was sitting on his lap. She did not resist, her form limp and shaking. It has been so long since he's been that close with anybody that he felt uneasy at first. No matter. She needed that, and he would oblige. She buried her face in his chest, one of her hands grabbing a fistful of his robe, her other arm encircling his waist. It surprised him how quickly his uneasiness passed, leaving only a conviction that it felt right. He placed his chin on top of her head and held her tight, wishing he could infuse her with strength through his touch, wishing he was skilled enough with words to tell her of the trust she inspired, of the feelings she was stirring in him.

„It's allright… It's allright, neleth… Only fools know no fear, and you are not one" he said quietly, not entirely sure if in her distress she would even register what he was saying "You are not alone in this. Never alone."

He felt her shivers subside, her fingers clenching and unclenching on the thick material of his robe. When she spoke, it was so quiet he could barely make out the words.

Neleth? What does it mean?"

Erandur smiled. He knew her well enough to have guessed that she was already starting to feel ashamed for baring her feelings and would cling to the most remote subject possible to deflect it.

„It means wildfire, in the language of my ancestors from Morrowind" he replied.

Runa remained silent and suddenly he felt he needed to say more.

"You burn, so brightly in these dark times… you sparked hope in me, and it spread, it grew and couldn't be stopped, even if I wanted it to, it did not stop." he added, feeling his throat constricting in a wave of tenderness towards her that made it difficult to breathe.

He admired her courage, her honesty in admitting her own faults, her strife to become better. She was tender but her mind was sharp, she was willing to see good in others even though she was not naïve and has seen her fair share of what others were capable of. She was a fierce warrior. A dragonborn. She was all that; and right now she needed him.

She was silent for so long that he started to doubt his choice of words, wordlessly berating himself for speaking this way to her.

„Thank you" she whispered "for being here with me."

„No need to thank me. Try to get some sleep, I'll watch over you."

He finally felt her relax completely in his embrace.

„Will you tell me about Morrowind?" she asked, and he smiled again.

„Yes, I will."

Erandur kept his watch long after Runa finally fell asleep in the middle of his tale about Ashland tribes, trying to decipher his own feelings, and failing.


A/N: It is close to impossible to find any information on dunmeri online, so with 'neleth' I simply resorted to using one of the dunmer names I could find as a common word.

I realise many authors here post song lyrics with their stories and it may seem pretentious to some, but I like sharing music that I listen to when writing... Also, my updates may become a bit irregular from now on as I am doing quite a lot of overtime at work - hopefully not for long.