A/N: Hello! Hope everything is going well for everyone. And good luck on upcoming finals and the last few weeks of class to any fellow college students. There's some like background and history and explanation stuff in this chapter, but it should all be pretty self-explanatory. As for the dragon conversation, I stuck translations in at the end of chapter, and did take those from UESP, cause it's the best. And there's a conversation about birth signs, so if you're interested in why I picked what I did (though most are explained or are obvious), or are just curious about them in general, there's a UESP page on those too and that's where I got my info. 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. Specifically, bits of dialogue belong to the former cause all of Dany and Sandor's story from here on out directly follows the main questline of Skyrim.

Rating: M for some language, violence, and a brief reference to miscarriage.

Delphine led them from their room, across the dark and empty common room, and into the one beside the bar, glancing over her shoulder once before moving to the wardrobe in the corner.

"Close the door," she ordered, and once Daenerys silently obeyed, the innkeeper opened the wardrobe and pushed aside the paneling at the back to reveal a set of stairs. She gestured for them to follow, and at the bottom, a small hidden room was revealed, its walls covered in various weapons and maps with hastily scribbled notes across them. In the center was a table with yet another map across its surface, and it was there that Delphine stopped.

"Now we can talk. And here, I believe you were looking for this." She removed an intricately carved horn from the wall behind her and handed it to Daenerys. Silently, she passed it back to Sandor and as he turned it over in his hands, the innkeeper spoke up once more.

"The Greybeards seem to think you're the Dragonborn. Daenerys Targaryen, isn't it?" When Dany nodded, she returned the gesture. "I hope they're right."

"They are," Dany responded. "Or so I've been told."

Delphine grunted and crossed her arms. "As I said...I hope so, but you'll forgive me if I don't assume that something's true just because the Greybeards say so. I just handed you the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller." She gestured toward the object in Sandor's hands as he carefully hung it from the hilt of his sword. "Does that make me Dragonborn too?"

"So you're 'a friend' then?" Dany said, looking over at the older Breton. "You aren't exactly who we were expecting."

"Good," Delphine replied. "The whole point of being in hiding is to appear to be someone you're not. I suppose I'm getting quite good at the harmless innkeeper act."

Sandor snorted and moved up to stand at Dany's side. "Well, we're here now, so what is it that you want? Or can we just walk out of here with the horn and be done with your bloody cloak and dagger nonsense?"

"You could," she said, shrugging. "But I didn't go to all this trouble on a whim. I needed to make sure it wasn't a Thalmor trap. Believe it or not, Clegane, I'm not your enemy. I already gave you the horn if that's all you wanted, but I'm actually trying to help you. I just need you to hear me out."

"Very well then," Dany said finally. "Explain yourself."

Delphine nodded, visibly relieved. "Like I said in my note, I've heard that you might be Dragonborn." With a sigh and a frown, she continued. "I'm part of a group that's been looking for you, or, well, someone like you, for a very long time. If you really are Dragonborn, that is. Before I tell you any more, I need to make sure I can trust you."

"How do we know we can trust you," Sandor countered, his arms crossed over his chest.

"If you don't trust me then you were a fool to walk in here in the first place," Delphine retorted, and though Sandor bristled at the accusation, Dany conceded to her logic with a nod and spoke calmly.

"Why is someone like you searching for a Dragonborn?"

"Because we remember what most don't—that the Dragonborn is the ultimate dragonslayer, and not a mere hero from old fairy stories. You're the only one that can kill a dragon permanently by devouring its soul." When Daenerys gave no signs of reply, Delphine narrowed her eyes and gave the slight young Breton a once-over. "Can you do it? Can you absorb a dragon's soul?"

She exchanged a look with her companion, and Sandor shrugged slightly. Though he had seen it happen with his own eyes, a part of him still couldn't believe that it was true.

"That's none of your bloody concern," Sandor said gruffly, to which Delphine raised her eyebrows.

"You're wrong, Clegane. It is my concern, and my only concern at that. This girl may be the only one that can stop these dragons. You'll understand that soon enough."

When Dany spoke up again, she sounded suspicious, and Sandor knew that, fool or not, she was just as wary of the supposed innkeeper as he was. "What is it that you aren't telling us, Delphine?"

At that, her mysterious façade cracked slightly and she gave a weary sigh, planting her fists on the table in front of her. "These dragons aren't just...coming back. They're coming back to life. They weren't gone somewhere for all these years; they were dead, killed off centuries ago by my predecessors. And now something is happening to bring them back to life and I need you to help me stop it."

"How do you know that they're coming back to life?"

"Because I've visited their ancient burial grounds," Delphine replied. "And I found them empty. And I've figured out where the next one will come back to life. We're going to go there, and you're going to kill that dragon. If we succeed, I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"How do you know all of this?" Sandor asked incredulously. If not even the Greybeards had known that such a thing was happening, he had his doubts about the claims of the woman before them.

Delphine, however, only smiled. "You should know. You got the map for me. The dragonstone you got for Farengar, remember?"

Suddenly, Sandor remembered the hooded woman at Farengar's side when the dragon had attacked, and Dany's quiet gasp suggested that she too had remembered where they had met Delphine before.

"You were there, in Dragonsreach," she said, disbelief evident in her tone.

"Yes," Delphine said in amusement. "I see you were paying attention after all. That dragonstone you brought to me was a map of the dragon burial sites. I've looked at which ones are now empty and the pattern is clear. It seems to be spreading from the southeast, down in the Jeralls near Riften. The one at Kynesgrove is next if the pattern holds. If we can get there before that dragon is brought back, we may be able to learn how to stop it."

For a long moment, Dany was silent, looking down at the map between them. Finally, she spoke, determination in her lavender eyes.

"Very well then. I'll kill the dragon and then you'll tell me what it is that you're still keeping from us."

Delphine nodded in acceptance. "Good. Meet me at the northern gate out of town in two hours. We have no time to waste."

The two travelers spent those few hours in fitful sleep, and when they rose again to join their mysterious new companion the sky was still dark above them, lit only by the moons, still a night from their peak.

Delphine was waiting as she had promised, her ale-stained innkeeper's dress traded for a set of tanned leather armor and a steel blade in place of her broom. At her side was a sturdy draft horse, standing docile beside Dany's mare as Stranger snorted irritably a few feet away.

"Come," she said as they approached, swinging atop her horse and waiting for Dany and Sandor to do the same.

The road between Riverwood and Whiterun was silent and still, with the distant howling of wolves the only other sign of life. Their horse's hooves clattered noisily across the cobbled bridge that steered them away from Whiterun toward to east. Just off from the road sat a standing stone, and across its face was the constellation of the Ritual.

Dany looked over at it as they passed and a moment later, she spoke.

"What star sign were you born under?"

"The Warrior," Sandor replied. "Fitting, I suppose."

She nodded absently. "Some believe that the sign you're born under shapes you into the person that you become. I was born beneath the Lady, and my brother Viserys beneath the Mage."

When Delphine made no move to speak, Dany prompted her. "What about you?"

"I was born between the Thief and the Ritual," she responded after a moment. "When the Serpent was passing through the sky. They say we are the most blessed or the most cursed, though often, we don't know which."

"The Serpent," Sandor said snidely. "Patron of thieves and liars. It does suit you."

Silence fell between them as the two exchanged glares, and Dany sighed quietly, shaking her head.

Though they might need answers from the woman, Sandor did not trust her, nor did he like her. He would not easily forget her taunting at the inn and the way she had spoken about Sansa. If only Daenerys didn't need her, he would just as well put his sword through her heart.

The sun had risen high above them and a dark structure was just emerging in the distance when Delphine spoke again, nodding her head forward. "This place up ahead is a notorious bandit hideout, but it's also the shortest way to Kynesgrove. Just remember, we're not looking for trouble. We need to get to Kynesgrove as fast as we can, and we can't afford any delays."

As the towers loomed above them and cast their shadow across their path, a figure in the center of the road came into view, and they slowed their horses as they approached. It was a Redguard woman that met them, and she called out to them, hands on her hips.

"This here's a toll road, see? Hand over two hundred gold or we'll see that you don't get on your way."

Delphine opened her mouth to reply, but Daenerys beat her to it, riding forward to meet her. "Please, my lady," she implored, slumping down in her saddle. "My companions and I have traveled far and have barely enough coin for a decent meal and a bed to sleep in once we reach our destination. I wish you no disrespect, but we cannot give you what you ask for. We would give you what coin we do have, if not for the baby." She moved a hand to her stomach, beneath her cloak, and for a moment, the bandit looked hesitant. "Let us pass and I promise you that if we come your way again on our return, we will pay you what we owe."

A long moment passed, but finally, the woman nodded and stepped aside. "Very well, but you'd best be off, and don't expect my price to be so low on your return."

Dany nodded her thanks as they rode past, and once the towers had faded from view, she straightened up again. Delphine watched her, obviously impressed, and then frowned after a moment. "Are you truly pregnant?"

"I was," Dany replied curtly, and with that, all conversation ceased.

It was midafternoon when they reached a small mill along the White River, and when Dany quietly asked if they could stop to water their horses and rest for a brief moment, Delphine allowed it, grudgingly.

Sandor sat down beside the river to sharpen his sword while the women spoke with the mill's owner, and a moment later, a well-dressed man joined him.

"Greetings, traveler," the man said with a cheery smile. "My name is Wat, and I'm a bard by trade. Could I interest you in a song perhaps?"

Sandor snorted in derision and shook his head. "No. Piss off."

Undeterred, the bard raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure? I know Ragnar the Red, Age of Oppression...I even have a new song that I'm writing, the tale of the Lady Sansa. Perhaps you know of her. She's called the Lady Stormcloak now I suppose."

At that, Sandor hesitated. "Perhaps."

Seeing that he had earned his audience's attention, Wat grinned widely and propped one foot up on the rock upon which Sandor sat. "Ah, see. I would sing it for you if I only had it finished, but I can't even come up with a good title. I was thinking of something with the Hound in it, but I don't know what to call the lady. The Hound and Lady Sansa is a drab title to be sure, and the Hound and the High Queen has yet to be a foregone conclusion."

"The Hound and the Little Bird," Sandor said quietly.

Gasping, the bard clapped his hands together. "That's it! Ysmir's beard, that's perfect! You know, my teachers said she used to study at the Bard's College when she was a girl, and that she had the prettiest voice, just like a little bird!" Hardly paying attention to Sandor anymore, he continued eagerly. "I should go to Windhelm and sing it for the lady herself..."

He turned back to Sandor once more. "Did you know that some say she fell in love with the Hound and that his execution broke her heart? The tale is romanticized, perhaps, but I thought it would make a good ballad."

"Nobody's going to write a fucking song about me, Sansa Stark."

He could still remember the sly smile on her lips, swollen from his kisses. "Not even me?"

"Aye, I suppose it would."

Before the bard could speak again, Dany called for him, and he excused himself, eager to escape the reminder of what he had lost.

They passed close enough to Windhelm for Sandor to run inside the gates, but he remained obediently atop his horse. Someday, he would be with Sansa again, but he would be sure that the world in which they would live was safe before he joined her. At Daenerys' side, he could ensure that, and on the day that she needed him no longer, he would go to his love, and kill the bastard Stormcloak while he was at it.

"We're nearly to Kynesgrove," Delphine said, breaking him from his thoughts. Even as she spoke, a terrible roar shook the earth, and a woman on the path before them ran down to meet them.

"No, you don't want to go up there!" she cried out as they continued to ride toward the town. "There's a dragon! Turn back, it's attacking!"

"Attacking?" Delphine asked, swinging from her horse and motioning for her companions to do the same.

"Well..." The woman hesitated and then returned to her panic. "I don't know, but it flew to the old burial mound! I don't know what it's doing and I'm not staying long enough to find out!"

With that, she fled, and Dany's mare whickered nervously as the beast roared once more.

"Come on," Delphine urged. "Hurry. We may already be too late."

As they ran up the hill towards the town, the burial mound came into view, and they made their way toward it, keeping one eye on the creature that circled high in the sky above.

"Lorkhan's eyes," Delphine said in awe. "Look at that big bastard. Keep your heads down, let's see what it does."

Crouching behind the rocks that lined the path to the burial mound, they waited, and Dany's eyes widened as the dragon came closer, beating its wings as it hovered above the grave of its fallen brother. She murmured something under her breath and both Sandor and Delphine glanced her way as the dragon began to speak.

"Sahloknir, zil gro dovah ulse."

"What is he saying?" Delphine asked, but Dany did not respond and Sandor wondered if she understood it herself.

"Slen tiid vo!"

The ground shook when the dragon shouted, and Sandor drew his sword from his side as the burial mound began to shake loose its dirt, the form of a dragon rising from within. Delphine did the same, and though Dany looked frightened, she slung her bow around and swiftly nocked an arrow, a far easier task with the gauntlets that now covered her hands.

The dragon spoke to its companion as it rose, and as the great black beast took to the sky once again, it turned its blazing gaze toward their hiding place, eyes fixed on Daenerys.

"Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi."

When she merely stared at the creature in horror and fear, it opened its mouth again, and Sandor was surprised to find that he could understand its words.

"Do you not even know our tongue? Such arrogance, to dare take for yourself the name of Dovah." With a snarl, it flapped its massive wings and sent a final command to its newly risen brother. "Sahloknir krii daar joorre."

When the dragon in what had once been its grave raised its head and roared in reply, Delphine rushed from their hiding place, sword raised. "Come on! This is our best chance, before it takes to the sky!"

Swearing under his breath, Sandor joined her and Dany began to loose her arrows into its scaly hide, though she was pale, and her hands trembled.

"You dare to fight me?" The dragon rumbled, its mastery of the common tongue stilted, but understandable. "It seems that mortals have grown arrogant in the time that I have slept."

One of Dany's arrows found the space between its scales and it hissed in pain, its eyes narrowing. "I can smell your blood, mortal..." it drawled. "You know the Voice..."

As Delphine swung her sword, the dragon batted her aside effortlessly with one of its wings, and Sandor saw Daenerys out of the corner of his eye as she stepped toward it and dropped her bow to the ground. When she took a deep breath, he yelled to her.

"Do it, girl! Now!"

"Fus...Ro!"

The words flew from her mouth, and the force of them pushed the beast onto its legs, enough for Sandor to duck between its outstretched wings and find the gap in its hide under which its heart beat.

His blade found its mark with deadly accuracy and the dragon let out a roar of pain and anger as it died, struggling feebly for a few moments before crashing to the ground just as Sandor rolled away, only barely managing to keep from being crushed.

Delphine was staring at Daenerys in awe as she scrambled to her feet, and her voice was filled with disbelief when she spoke. "I'll be damned...you did it."

Even as she spoke, Dany continued her steady pace toward the dragon's corpse and just as it had outside of Whiterun, the flesh began to burn from its bones and a few of its scales clattered noisily to the earth as she was wrapped in swirling tendrils of light. When it had faded beneath her skin, she spoke, and Sandor recognized the word on her lips as the one which she had read in the depths of Ustengrav.

"Zii..."

This time, when she spoke it, she shimmered slightly, and for a brief moment, it looked as though Sandor could simply run his hand through the space where she stood. It faded just as quickly and Delphine stared, completely dumbstruck by what she had witnessed.

"So you really are...I..." She shook her head in bewilderment and disbelief. "It's true, isn't it? You really are Dragonborn." When Dany turned to face her, she let out a heavy sigh and then nodded slightly. "I owe you some answers then, don't I? Go ahead. Ask me whatever you want to know and I won't hold anything back."

"Who are you, really?" Dany asked, her voice quiet. "And what is it that you want from me?"

"I'm one of the last members of the Blades," Delphine replied. "A very long time ago, the Blades were dragonslayers, and we served the Dragonborn, the greatest of all dragonslayers. For the last two hundred years, since the last Dragonborn emperor, the Blades have been searching for a purpose. Now that dragons are coming back, our purpose is clear again. We need to stop them, and we need you to be able to do that."

Dany nodded slowly, and when she spoke again, she sounded troubled. "I've seen that dragon before, the one that got away."

Delphine raised her eyebrows, and even Sandor's interest was piqued. "Really? Where?"

"It was the one that attacked Helgen," she responded. "When Ulfric escaped from the Imperials."

Frowning, Delphine nodded. "Interesting. Same dragon...but dammit, we're still blundering around in the dark here! We need to figure out for sure who's behind all of this."

"For sure?" Sandor echoed, growing suspicious once more.

True to her word, Delphine nodded, and when she answered, it was with complete honesty. "I believe that the Thalmor are our best lead. If they aren't involved, they'll know who is."

Dany looked confused. "What makes you think the Thalmor are bringing dragons back?"

Delphine sighed. "Nothing solid, yet. But my gut tells me it can't be anybody else. The Empire had captured Ulfric, and the war would have ended with his execution. Then, a dragon attacks, Ulfric escapes, and the war still rages on. And now the dragons are attacking everywhere, indiscriminately. Skyrim is weakened, the Empire is weakened...who else gains from that but the Thalmor?"

"So how do we prove any of this?" Sandor grumbled. Though he disliked the Thalmor as much as every other Nord, he would not accuse them of such a grave series of events without some sort of evidence.

"If we could get into the Thalmor Embassy..." Delphine began, trailing off and frowning. "It's the center of their operations in Skyrim, but that place is locked up tighter than a miser's purse. They could even teach me a few things about paranoia…"

Sandor snorted at that, and Dany prompted her to continue. "So how do we get into the Thalmor Embassy?"

"I'm not sure yet," Delphine said, shrugging her shoulders. "I have a few ideas, but I'll need some time to pull things together...Meet me back in Riverwood in a few days' time. If I'm not back when you get there, wait for me. I shouldn't be long."

When Dany nodded, she slid her sword back into its scabbard and began to walk back toward the road, giving only one final word of advice.

"Keep an eye on the sky, Dragonborn. This is only going to get worse."

"Sahloknir, zil gro dovah ulse." (Sahloknir, ever-bound dragon spirit.)

"Slen tiid vo!" (Flesh against time)

"Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi." (So, my false Dragonborn. I do not recognize you as dragon.)

"Sahloknir krii daar joorre." (Sahloknir, kill these mortals.)