Hello everyone! My, I've been almost regular on these last chapters. I'll try to keep it that way!

Today's chapter was nice to write, I'm at the point where the story kind of writes itself. It doesn't mean I'm an accomplished writer though, so as usual if you spot typos or mistakes, please tell me so I can correct them.

Oh and, dont wanna spoil but I think you're gonna like the next chapter... :P

7 – Hunt

Ænor hated dwemer ruins. Just by standing at the entrance, with the door behind her, she felt attacked. Attacked by the loud and strange sound of steam in the pipes and machines that still worked somehow. By the heavy atmosphere and the moisture in the air. By the smell of metal, blood and slavery. Once in the deeper levels, there would be the sight of chaurus, and of what became of snow elves.

Scholars wondered where and how the dwemers vanished. Ænor didn't care. Good riddance. She took a step forward.

He caught her scent in the south of Keizaal. Strong. Blood. But different. He followed the trail to a forest, and a isolated house. He landed on the roof, almost disappointed. He could smell her so close, but something was off. Mortals were coming out of the house, but he didn't care about them.

"Dovahkiin!"

As she expected, Irkngthand was packed with falmers. Once a sentient race, their enslavment by the dwarves had taken its toll. Blind, barely able to speak, they had muted to become those caverns creatures. But it would be dangerous to pity them : they had claimed the ruins back and would attack anyone who was foolish enough to explore their caverns. So, and since she wasn't here for them after all, Ænor went to sneak through their camps.

She knew she was perfectly silent. But when a falmer hunter turn its head toward her, sniffing several times, her heart stopped for a second. Thankfully the smell of dwemer oil covered her human scent, and the creature went back to its tent. The thief kept moving, getting deeper in the cavern.

She explored the ruins for an hour before she saw Mercer below, crossing a hall. The bastard was close, or at least close enough for her arrows. Ænor didn't think twice and pulled the string of her bow. She inhaled. He was far and hiding in the shadows. Exhaled. He was reaching a door. She released the string. The arrow hit him. He kept moving.

She sighed, frustrated. Well, no, not exactly. She had exposed herself and now he knew she was coming for him. The thief was not pleased. The dragon was thrilled. The real hunt had begun. Ænor rushed after him, embracing the shadows and smiling when she realised how easy it was. She perceived everything ; her opponents were blind and deaf. They hid in the shadows ; she was the shadows. Vokun.

Yes, she remembered that word. She had read it on a dragon wall once. She knew it meant shadow, but the Greybeards had made it clear that there was a difference between knowing a word's meaning and really understanding it. Understanding a word would take months of meditation, learning dovahzul would take a lifetime. But right now, she had touched the meaning of this word. Perceived and lived the shadow as a dovah would. Because she was Dovahkiin.

A trick. A ruse. A bait. He roared, both in rage and thrill. The hunt was not over. He reached the sky with a flap of his large wings, leaving a burning ruin behind him. He was patient. He could wait for her to make a mistake. For she would make a mistake ; dovah were no preys. They could not live in hiding.

Ænor kept tracking Mercer to the depths of Irkngthand, until she reached a large door. She opened it and saw the former guildmaster trying to climb on a beautiful, gigantic falmer statue. Its eyes were two gems, purple stones that reflected the light. The room was huge, but the statue filled it completely, making it look almost like a narrow space. Mercer's moves were clumsy, a result of her earlier shot.

"Vokun!"

Darkness swallowed the room, as she could hear the other thief's gasp of surprise.

"What? Wh-"

"Laas Yah Nir!"

Life. Seek. Hunt. Now she could sense his presence. The fool was coming to her. Did he seriously think he could take her down?

"Zul Mey Gut!"

Voice. Fool. Far. The prey was looking around, confused. She raised her bow.

When the shadows retreated, the hunt was over. Mercer Frey's corpse was thrown in water, his belongings retrieved and his deeds already forgotten. Ænor was facing the statue. It was a masterpiece, and the thief was fascinated by the falmer's eyes. She understood why Gallus, who was guildmaster before Mercer, had planned to steal them. But she disagreed with this plan : what a waste it would be! They belonged with the statue, without it they would simply be two pretty rocks. She shook her head. No, she would take the whole thing, or nothing. And since she couldn't move it…

A roar in the distance, barely audible. The Dragonborn raised her head, suddenly tensed. She thought she was deep underground, how could she hear that? Was that actually a roar, or did she –

The ground shook. The ceiling creaking and cracking terribly. Rocks fell, as big as horses. A water pipe above broke, and water began to flood the room. It all happened within a second, and Ænor only had the time to shout "Feim!" before a rock fell on her and passed through her ethereal form. She cursed when she saw that the door was now blocked, and looked up. Roots! She wasn't far from the surface, indeed. Maybe she could shout herself out of this mess…? Her throat was a bit sore, but she didn't have any other idea. The water was rising quickly, and it was hard not to drown with all her equipment. The Dragonborn couldn't help but notice that water was definitely not her friend ; it was the second time she risked to drown within a week. Of course she could cast a waterbreathing spell, but if there was no way out it would be useless and would only delay her death. But blessed be Nocturnal, as the ceiling got closer she spotted a tunnel that she could now reach, and she did her best to swim to it. The thief heaved herself out of the water with a grunt. Light armour my ass! She felt like she was carrying a troll on her back. And a frost troll at that. She was frozen.

The water had thankfully stopped rising, and so Ænor took the time she needed to take off her soaked leather armour and let it dry. In the meantime, she would have some scouting to do. She wasn't sure she had heard a roar, but the shaking ground was a little too suspect for her. And so she walked carefully to the entrance of the tunnel, barefoot and simply wearing her linen shirt and pants. When she reached the surface it was night outside, which immediately made her feel better. The area seemed safe, but…

"Laas Yah Nir!"

Her throat now officially hurt. She had never shouted so much in such a short time before. But at least there was no sign of a – wait a minute. Ænor turned to see a dragon standing a stone's throw away from her. It didn't move, in fact she wasn't sure it had noticed her. And thanks the Divines and the Daedras, it wasn't Alduin. The dragon seemed to be looking or waiting for something, and she remained hidden until it left. With a sigh of relief, Ænor went back in the tunnel to retrieve her things, and set up camp outside. There, she lit a fire to let her equipment dry and warm herself. But she was careful, and managed to get embers and no flames. She spent a few hours there, resting but not sleeping, aware that the forced bath had taken away the strong stench of dwemer oil.

A shout. Her voice, her thu'um. A whisper in the sky of Keizaal, that only he could perceive. Perceive but not locate. For now.

She left at the coldest hour of the night, mostly because she needed to move if she didn't want to freeze. She followed the river to the east, until she reached Windhelm. It was dawn when she crossed the gates, and the wealthy thief she was rushed to Hjerim, her house in town. She didn't use it often, but hey, she could afford it. The house was cold when she entered it, and she quickly started fires to warm the house. Then, the Dragonborn went to her room, undressed and collapsed on her bed.

She was woken up in the early afternoon by someone's knocking at her door. Stumbling out of her bed, Ænor put on simple clothes, grabbed a dagger and went downstairs. There she found Vipir closing the door behind him.

"Oh, hem, sorry I wasn't sure whether you were in or not."

"It's okay, as long as you didn't ruin the lock" she teased him. "C'mon, sit down if you want to. I hope you haven't run all the way from Riften. What's going on?"

Vipir chuckled and leaned against the door. "No, not this time. I have news from the guild, but what about you? Did you find Mercer?"

"Yeah, he's dealt with. The guild is rid of this asshole."

"Good riddance! Well, Delvin and Vex have located Karliah. Vex came back yesterday to tell us that she is waiting for you with Delvin in Falkreath. And they thought it was funny to send me, of all people, to tell you. I'm glad I found you here, I didn't want to search all of Eastmarch."

They quickly agreed that Vipir would head back to Riften to tell everyone that she had succeeded, while Ænor would go directly to Falkreath to meet Delvin and Karliah. She allowed herself a couple of hours to prepare, eat a real meal and take a hot bath. Then, she made a quick detour to buy some arrows and left the city to reach the stables of Windhelm. She bought a horse – hers was at Lakeview manor – and rode it to Whiterun. There, there was a crossroad that led to Riverwood. She would make a stop at her house to retrieve her own equipment, and then join Falkreath.

Ænor stopped at the crossroad to refill her goatskin in the river below. She was kneeling by the water, her horse drinking downstream, when she felt something coming.

The Dragonborn only had the time to throw herself to the ground before the dragon raced above her and grabbed her horse in its talons.

"What in Oblivion...?!"

Of all the encounters she could have made, it had to be some random hungry dragon, of course. It landed just a few meters away from her, on the other side of the river. The damn lizard was eating her horse. She felt truly sorry for it, but wouldn't try to avenge it. What? Fighting a dragon is bad for discretion. And so, Ænor quietly retreated to the road, hoping that the dragon was not interested in her as a dessert and keeping her bow in hand just in case.

Then the dragon turned its head toward her, and she knew she was screwed.

"Yol Toor Shul!"

No time to dodge.

"Feim Zii Gron!"

Her voice again. A powerful and loud shout, this time. He roared in triumph, and flew in her direction. The hunt would be over soon.

The flames passed through her ghostly form. Ænor notched an arrow, aimed, and waited for her physical form to come back. When it did, she reacted first.

"Tiid Klo Ul!"

Time slowed down around her, and she shot. One, two, three, four arrows before the dragon could react. It roared furiously, a shout that could tear the skies apart.

Wait.

This dragon's jaw was closed.

Alduin roared again when he landed on the other dragon, making the ground violently shake. He shouted, words after words that Ænor couldn't understand, his rage focused on the minor drake below him. It was only then that Ænor realized how big the black dragon actually was. He towered over the other one, pinning it to the ground. She didn't think twice, and ran away.

The thief was fast, and Riverwood was close. She reached it when Alduin swallowed the dragon's soul. Damn village, every building was made of wood! She ran through the south gate as he took flight. She had reached the Guardian Stones when he caught up with her.

"Wuld Nah Kest! Feim Zii!"

She landed in the water below the road. Lakeview manor was close…she could hide in her basement, in her secret vault. This probably wouldn't last long, but right now she had no other idea, and she was out of breath. There! She could see her house. Alduin landed in front of the main door, and Ænor rushed to the door of her balcony. Closed.

"Fuck! Fuck fuck damnit-"

There was no time to knock, find her key or pick the lock. She broke the nearest window and threw herself inside. She was in the main hall, upstairs, and her chamberlain was running to her.

"My lady…?! What…"

"No time! Hide, he should leave you alone!" Was all she answered before she jumped downstairs and opened the trapdoor to the cellar. The Dragonborn closed it behind her as the main door of the house opened.

She rushed to the wall on her left and searched for the – there it was! The secret passage opened, and she hurried inside. Ænor closed it from her side, and stumbled in the dark to reach her hoard a little further. She was completely out of breath and sat down against a wall, trying to calm down. She did her best to breathe slowly, embracing the silence and the darkness. She was safe here. After a few minutes, her heart was starting to beat normally again, and-

"Laas Yah Nir!"

Ænor repressed a whine. She could nearly feel his glare on her back. She stood on her feet, unsheathed her ebony dagger and picked another one from her treasure. Part of her smiled, she knew that enchanted glass blade was too nice to be sold. There was the sound of rocks collapsing, and footsteps. She was ready.

The Dragonborn raised her blades, ready to defend herself. The silence became complete. Then, a chuckle, far too close.

"Hi los vahzah dovah. You really are a dovah. Gathering treasures…Zun Haal Viik."

Her daggers fell to the ground with a loud clank. There were a few more seconds of oppressive silence, before she felt his arms wrapping around her, his chest against her back and his breath in her neck.

"Nir los oblaan, mal gein. The hunt is over, little dragon."