A/N: Hello. If you're on spring break like me, then happy break! I hope you're enjoying it. If you're still waiting for your break, or if you're past the point of breaks, then I'm sorry, but...there's gotta be something to look forward to, so yay for that! And regardless of where you are and what you're doing, here's a new chapter for you to read. I hope it can brighten your day a little bit at the very least. As always, many thanks to my beta reader (and sister) GrowlingPeanut. Reviews are appreciated.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Bethesda Softworks and George R. R. Martin.

Rating: T for some language and brief vaguely described content that some may find disturbing.

"Looks like we're here." Sandor Clegane's deep voice broke her from her thoughts and her hand slowly retreated from where it had been resting against her stomach.

Though Farengar had stressed the importance of the Dragonstone, Dany had other things on her mind, and at her request they had delayed their journey until the following morning. As her companion had spent the day drinking at the Bannered Mare, she had tried in vain to rest and recover from the events at Helgen.

They dismounted just below the great stone steps beyond which the barrow stood, tying their mounts to a thick pillar that promised to hold even the Hound's spirited courser.

The dark stone of the barrow looked starkly out of place against the heavy layer of snow that had fallen atop it, giving it an imposing look that made a terrible nervousness gnaw at Dany's stomach. She hoped that it would prove to be nothing more than disquiet at entering a place of the dead.

Clegane opened the heavy iron door with a grunt of exertion and waved her through, following after and bracing his hands against the door to keep it silent as it closed behind them. They had barely made it a few steps into the large chamber that met them when the sound of voices from the far end of the room echoed to meet them.

"So we're just supposed to sit here while Arvel runs off with that golden claw?"

Dany froze, and she absently remembered Drogo mentioning a golden claw that had gone missing from the Riverwood Trader. Perhaps the voices belonged to the robbers that had made away with much of Lucan Valerius' stock.

"If that dark elf wants to go on ahead, let him." A second voice grumbled. "Better than us risking our necks."

"What if he doesn't come back?" the first retorted. "I want my share from that claw!"

"Just keep quiet and watch for trouble," her companion hissed in obvious annoyance. The command was obeyed after a disgruntled murmur, and then the voices fell silent, the occasional scuff of boots on stone and the crackling of their campfire the only signs that they remained.

Behind her, the mercenary drew his sword and motioned for her to remain where she was before slowly making his way to the other end of the chamber, following the wall. He disappeared into the shadows and Dany found herself holding her breath as a cry of alarm rang out, followed by the familiar clashing of steel.

A long moment of silence passed and just as it began to grow unbearable, the Hound reappeared, his expression grim and his blade covered in blood. "Come on," he ordered gruffly. "The one they were talking about is still around somewhere. And there could be others."

Nodding, she followed him through the damp tunnel at the rear of the chamber, following the faint sound of rushing air into another room, this one much smaller than the first. At its center lay a low pedestal, and on it, a stone handle. A Breton in light armor stood with his back to them, his hands wrapped around the handle.

With a grunt, the handle ground out from its socket and rose with his hands. His cry of exultation was short-lived, as the wall above him slid away to unleash a volley of sharp stone darts. One pierced straight through his surprise-widened eye with a sickening squelch, and it was all Dany could do to keep down the bile that rose in her throat.

At her side, Clegane snorted derisively and made his way over to the corpse. "Not only does this place reek of the dead," he muttered, toeing aside the body in distaste. "It's filled with gods damned traps too." He turned back toward her. "I hope that bleeding heart of yours doesn't get us both killed."

Dany nodded idly in agreement and looked around at the chamber. The high wall above the iron gate before them was adorned with stone panels, shaped into grotesque faces with symbols carved onto their mossy teeth. A third sat half buried in the ground beside the pedestal. Her gaze moved from them with unease and lighted on a matching set tucked into a series of alcoves to their left, staring resolutely at the stone pedestal with their bulging stone eyes.

"It's a riddle..."

Her companion looked up at the sound of her voice and raised his eyebrow. "What was that girl?"

She nodded toward the figures on the ceiling and then pointed at those that stood beside him. "It's a riddle. Whoever built this place wanted to ensure that it stayed well protected."

His expression was one of grudging approval, and he moved from his place beside the thief's body to inspect the stone faces jutting from the ground. He eyed them for a moment before roughly shoving his shoulder against the one closest to him. Dany gasped in alarm and for a moment, the image of his dart-filled body flashed across her mind. She stepped forward, and just as she did, the figure began to move, scraping loudly against the stone floor.

Grinning triumphantly, he leaned against it and nodded in her direction. "Go on then, girl. Solve the damned thing so we can get out of here."

Letting out the breath she had been holding, Dany nodded and looked between the two sets for a long moment before moving to Sandor's side. "I think they're supposed to match. It almost seems too simple, but..." She shrugged. "It makes sense."

The Hound nodded in acceptance and at her command, he continued to turn the lower set of faces until they matched those above. Then, moving back to the pedestal, he finished what the ill-fated man before him had started, and freed the handle from the groove in which it sat. For a moment, nothing happened, and then, with a creak, the iron gate at the chamber's end rose to allow them passage.

"Good job, girl," Clegane said gruffly, though he did look genuinely pleased.

"Please," she replied as she followed him into the newly uncovered passage. "Call me Dany. And may I call you Sandor?"

At that, he turned, and he looked at her for a moment before shaking his head. "Just Clegane will do. Or Hound." A flicker of pain was evident in his eyes and Dany realized that she felt sorry for him. He seemed to have truly cared for Sansa Stark, and their separation was clearly taking its toll.

Nodding, she continued, pocketing a few septims that lay out on an embalming table before following her companion down a set of winding stairs. He cursed loudly when he reached the bottom and Dany hurried to catch up, her heart in her throat.

He was wrestling with a thick cobweb when she caught up, and the swearing continued as he hacked it to pieces with his sword and then shook off what remained with obvious disgust. When he met her gaze, his expression was grave. "That's not a good sign for what's ahead."

Dany felt her blood run cold. She had heard tales of the giant spiders that sometimes lived in the crypts and caves of Skyrim, but a part of her had never believed them. The thought alone was terrifying, let alone the prospect of seeing one for herself.

The Hound must have seen the fear in her eyes, because he sighed before speaking again. "Just wait here. I'll come back for you once it's safe for us to pass."

Nodding her thanks, she watched him go and then slumped against the nearest wall, her hand falling to idly rub her abdomen. Though the pain had mostly faded since the night following her stay in Riverwood, a dull ache had settled in its place. It was almost as though she could feel the emptiness that remained. Her throat grew tight at the reminder but when she heard her name from the adjoining cavern, she pushed aside her grief and returned to the sellsword's side.

At the sight of the bodies hanging in thick webs from the ceiling, she lost the feeble hold she had on their morning meal and Sandor turned away respectfully as she retched, her throat burning with the bile that forced its way up. As she wiped her mouth with the edge of her sleeve and rose shakily to her feet, he nodded toward another cobweb covered doorway.

"I found the one that ran away."

Sure enough, upon closer inspection, she noticed a man trapped in the webs, struggling feebly against their iron grip. "Please," he begged weakly, his red eyes wet with helpless tears. "I need help."

Clegane looked at him without pity and took a step closer. "You're Arvel, aren't you?"

At that, the Dunmer nodded furiously. "Did Harknir send you? Or Bjorn? Or Soling? No matter…please cut me down from here!"

The telltale glint of gold caught Dany's eye and she moved towards him, her gaze on the pouch at his hip. "That golden claw you have there. It belongs to Lucan Valerius of Riverwood."

Arvel snorted in obvious distaste, his expression haughty. "Valerius is a fool. He would leave it to sit forever in that hovel he calls a shop. We heard the rumors of its true worth. And I figured it out. I know how it works. The claw, the markings, the door…I know how it all fits together. Help me down and I'll show you." His eyes gleamed with the promise of riches, all previous signs of weakness long forgotten. "You won't believe the power the Nords have hidden here."

The Hound looked no more impressed than before, but he looked to his companion for a decision. When she nodded, he began to hack at the cobwebs that kept the man trapped. As soon as they gave way, Arvel was on his feet, laughing cruelly and darting deeper into the barrow, the claw still securely at his side.

Dany sighed in frustration as they watched him disappear. She couldn't help but be reminded of her decision to assist Telrav on the side of the road. Her trusting nature would get her into more trouble than she would be able to handle someday.

"I should have made him give it to us first," she said wearily as Sandor finished clearing the way for them to follow.

He shrugged noncommittally and led the way into the passage beyond. "He only would have tried to kill us before running if you had."

They continued onward, watching for the Dunmer to reappear. The caves around them changed to the man-made walls of stone that housed the bodies of the dead and Dany eyed them warily.

"I've heard that the dead do not always stay that way here in Skyrim," she said quietly, watching for any sign that the corpses buried around them might rise from their graves.

Clegane shrugged again. "Only if you give them a reason to return."

Repressing a shiver, she sent a suspicious look at a carefully embalmed body standing in a nearby alcove, and she nearly ran into her companion as he stopped suddenly.

"Watch your step."

Peering around him, she came face to face with the man that had betrayed them, his red eyes bulging lifelessly from their sockets as a stream of blood ran down across his chin. A dozen rusty spikes held his body against the wall, and the Hound wordlessly removed the pouch from his waist before handing her the golden claw hidden within.

"I suppose you'll be wanting to return that then?"

Dany nodded, but kept her gaze on the item in her palm. "I think we may need it yet," she said finally. She had nothing but a strange sense of anticipation to guide her, but she felt almost certain that they would need it to find the Dragonstone for which they searched.

She must have been deep in thought for longer than she was aware, because it seemed a lifetime had passed when Clegane cleared his throat and shifted impatiently at her side. Shaking herself from her reverie, she tightened her grip on the claw and nodded for him to continue, staying close at his side.

Before long, they left the catacombs behind and a cool wind greeted them as the barrow opened up to another large cavern, a half-frozen waterfall flowing sluggishly along one wall as the sun shone brightly from above. Unconsciously, they each took a deep breath of fresh air before looking around for a connecting passageway. Dany's feet were beginning to ache from the walk, but with each step they took, the feeling inside her grew stronger, and so she carried on without complaint.

"We should follow the creek," Sandor said after a moment of contemplation. "It looks like it's flowing downward."

Accepting his judgement, Dany nodded and followed. The creek took them to another waterfall, and a path emerged, leading them across a worn and narrow bridge that swayed precariously beneath their weight.

Finally, after a long hall, empty of everything but a few faintly burning braziers, they reached an impasse, and the Hound swore loudly in frustration. "It's a damned dead end."

Sure enough, the only thing that lay before them was a thick stone wall, worn with age and disuse and covered in a thick layer of moss. Sandor turned away and headed back the way they had come, but Dany moved closer, her hand meeting the cold stone and brushing aside the intrusive growth.

Her fingers grazed a series of grooves in the stone, and she cleared away the rest of the moss, unveiling a set of symbols carved deep into the layers of stone.

"It's not a wall," she whispered, more to herself than her companion. "It's a door."

"The claw, the markings, the door...I know how they all fit together!"

She was barely aware of her actions as her hand relinquished its hold on the claw and shifted the door's heavy panels. Her temples began to throb as she struggled to force it into a different pattern, and she was only vaguely aware of Clegane's return to her side. As she pressed the claw into the groove in the door's center, the pounding in her skull increased, and for a brief moment, she was afraid that it might split in two.

The sound of scraping stone startled her back to her senses as the door slid away and the phantom pain swiftly evaporated, leaving only a faint throbbing in its wake, more a memory than anything else.

"Are you hurt, girl?" Sandor had a confused and somewhat wary expression on his face as he looked at her, and she shook her head silently, stepping through into the vast chamber that greeted them.

Larger even than her brother's chambers in Mistveil Keep had been, the cavern stretched out wide before them. The smell of fresh air rushed to meet them, announcing the presence of a nearby escape from the seemingly endless barrow. A waterfall rushed loudly down the rocky wall, roaring and bubbling as it sprayed the ground with its foam, lending a faint, watery shine to the ground at their feet.

"Damn..." He sounded almost impressed, and Dany supposed she would've been too if she had seen anything but the wall that stood across from them.

Far apart from the walls of the cave, it stood resolute and imposing, its stone a light silvery grey and marked with foreign carvings. Somehow, it seemed older than even the earth around it, and it awoke a fierce hunger within the young Breton that stood under its spell. Her feet acted of their own accord as she walked toward it, deaf to her companion's warnings.

A faint whisper echoed in her mind as she neared it, and it grew louder with each step, drowning out the sounds of battle as the dead rose to keep their secrets from the living.

She was nearly at its foot when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and though her first instinct was to flinch away from the touch, she suppressed it, and turned to the sellsword at her side.

"Yes?" Her voice sounded foreign even to her own ears, and strangely calm.

"I think this is it."

In his hand rested a stone, large and heavy and etched in strange symbols that brought forth only the faint tickle of a distant memory. Abandoning the wall, Dany took it in her hands, and as the stone met her skin, she felt a shock travel the length of her body.

She felt the strange, brief sensation of immense power before she blinked in confusion, grasping feebly at a thought that had seemed to withdraw to the back of her mind. The last thing she had remembered was staring at the wall from the other end of the chamber, and then…nothing. Suddenly more afraid than she had ever been, she fought down the panic that rose in her throat and shoved the Dragonstone back at her companion.

"We should get that to Farengar. He will be pleased to hear of our success, I'm sure."

Clegane eyed her cautiously, but nodded and hefted the stone to rest against one of his broad shoulders. "Aye. He will at that." Turning from her, he nodded toward a set of steps carved into the cavern wall. "Come, girl. That's like to be a way out."

As they scrambled from the cavern and emerged back into the light of day, the fear seemed to subside, and in its place a single thought rang clearly through her mind.

"Fus..."