It was a quiet night in Riverwood; Frodnar and Stump were making their own rounds through the sleepy little village, and Ralof had joined them. He would be leaving early the next morning, and aimed to report to Jarl Ulfric in Windhelm before the week was out. Frodnar was peppering him with questions about the handful of battles that he'd taken part in. Stump's friendly yipping distracted both of them from the tale of Ivarstead.
"Who goes?!" Ralof called, drawing his axe. He shooed Frodnar back away from the gate as the hooded stranger approached.
"A Friend." The stranger replied, a typical Khajiit-accent rolling her response. She stooped to pet Stump, tail curling around her legs.
"Khajiit are normally unwelcome here, stranger, unless you only intend to pass through. I wish the Jarl wasn't so close-minded." Ralof relaxed, still wary of the stranger, but seeing no obvious threat.
"He wouldn't mind one of his thanes visiting a friend in their home-village, yes?"
Her words struck a memory in Ralof's mind, and he grinned as he holstered his axe.
"Mercy? Forgive me, I didn't recognize you!" He laughed, as the Khajiit pulled her hood back. Blue-Green eyes glittered mirthfully at him, and he thought he could see a tight-lipped grin on her face.
"So, tell me, what really brings you here? There's hardly anything to do in Riverwood; were it not for Frodnar I'd go mad from boredom." Ralof asked, once he and the Khajiit were seated by the inn-hearth. Mercy shrugged.
"Mercy heard tell of dragon fire and burning pines. She wanted to come and ensure the village wasn't in danger, though she hopes she hasn't brought danger with her. Dragons are returning, with more flocking to the skies every day." Mercy sighed, taking another drink from her stein.
"I haven't seen a dragon since Helgen." Ralof commented, masking alarm. The Jarl's men had started patrolling, and he had hoped it was enough to make one of the massive winged beasts think twice. He'd heard the Greybeards' shout several weeks prior, but knew nothing of what had transpired.
"Mercy has seen a few too many, herself… She'll probably go hunting in the morning." Mercy rumbled. Ralof wondered what she'd seen, she looked a bit grayer than she had in Helgen.
"You've reinforced the 'this one' bits of your talk, I see." He remarked, trying to pull her back from her thoughts.
"This one was slipping too much. Towards one who is in power, such as a Jarl, it is too informal. To one who is a friend, it is impolite. To an enemy…" She paused, a wicked smile crossing her features. "Well, enemies don't live long enough to hear such niceties from-"
She froze, her ears turning straight up, then twitching back and around.
"Mercy?" Ralof asked, startled.
"Sst!" She hissed in reply, dropping her stein on the table and bolting out the door.
Then he heard the roar.
Ralof grabbed his axe from its resting place next to his chair, and followed.
He froze in the doorway.
A massive, golden-eyed dragon was staring at Frodnar, keeping the boy frozen in its gaze. The beast started to rear back; Ralof heard the beginnings of the Fire-shout hissing in the air.
An arrow buzzed past him into the eye of the beast. The dragon let loose an ear-piercing shriek, a spray of ice flying up into the sky as it flailed. It turned its good eye to stare past him; he heard scrabbling, saw a shadow bolt out into the street and down the cobblestone path. The dragon took to the air, buffeting the alarmed town with a gale from its wings.
The fear it had stricken into Ralof wore off after a moment; he darted out and grabbed Frodnar, carrying the boy to the safety of his home. He turned Frodnar over to his mother, letting Gerdur soothe her frightened son.
Then Ralof realized: Mercy had disappeared. He turned, saw the dark speck of the cat fleeing down the path and through the brush, then looked up and saw the dragon following in a beeline.
The last he saw of the beast was its body becoming ash and bones, a thin golden vapor flowing from it to wrap around Mercy; the Khajiit looked almost angelic, in a way. Her fur took a golden hue, her figure glowed, and her eyes-
Ralof startled. Mercy's eyes had taken a reptilian shape and a dangerous amber hue; it was as if she herself was a dragon, but in a mortal shape.
He blinked, and it was gone. The dragon was nothing more than bones and a few loose scales, and Mercy looked like herself again. She approached the remains of the beast calmly, and gathered some of the bones and scales into the various packs she wore.
"What in Talos' name wat that?" The Nord asked, loud enough to make himself heard. Mercy startled, turning her gaze on him.
"Wh… what was what?" she responded, her voice cracking.
"That magic that turned a thousand-stones dragon into a pile of bones. You yourself looked draconic for a moment, to be honest. What is going on? What have I missed?"
"It… I… apparently this one is…" She sighed, ears flattening back against her skull.
"You're what?" Ralof pressed. Mercy bowed her head, seemingly ashamed.
"Dragonborn." It was nearly a whisper, but it rung like a brass bell. Things fell into place in an instant; the dragons returning, the call of the Graybeards sounding days after the attack on Helgen, it made sense.
"So, then… the legends are true." Ralof murmured.
"Please don't say that. Everyone who finds out says that, they always look at this one funny afterwards. Mercy has already told three of the guards in Whiterun to stop calling her that so people stop treating her like… like she is someone important." Mercy snipped, a tinge of desperation in her voice. She gave Ralof a pleading look.
He sighed. "Mercy… you are important whether you like it or not. According to the legends you're the one standing between us and the End of Days. People are going to look up to you because of that, they don't realize you're… well… you're as new to the idea as they are."
Mercy's expression closed, becoming masklike in its lack of expression. Ralof put his hands up. "I didn't say I'd treat you any different. I still see the Khajiit I saw in Helgen, just with a bit more power at her fingertips."
The words didn't work; Mercy turned away from him and took off at an easy run, quickly increasing the distance between herself and Riverwood.