Skyrim is the property of Bethesda Softworks. Hi everybody! I was thrilled by the fistful of faves and follows in the days after Antebellum. This chapter isn't nearly so epic as two dragons fighting in a rain of fire, but it DOES set up some solid violence later on. And maybe a little sex.

By the grace of the complete Aura Whisper, the careful use of the Detect Life spell, and hours of practice on the hike down from Paarthurnax's aerie, I was able to walk with only a few stumbles through the doors of High Hrothgar. The four monks were anxiously awaiting news of our confrontation.

"Alduin..." Arngeir began, "We heard the battle from here... You defeated him?"

I shook my head, "No, he escaped. We must find out where he roosts."

The bearded monk shook his head slowly, "I feared as much. I thought it was him we saw flying east after your battle."

"At least one of us saw it. Paarthurnax suggested that I try asking the Jarl of Whiterun for help."

Arngeir's aura brightened in my mind, "Ah! Dragonsreach! There are many difficulties, but I cannot think of a better plan. Though I fear Balgruuf will not be easy to persuade. Remember, the Way of the Voice trains you for more than battle. Indeed, we believe that battle is the least of its uses."

"Any idea where Alduin might have gone?"

"The old tales say he can travel to Sovngarde to devour the souls of the dead. You must find out how he does this. Before he regains his strength and returns."

"I hope Balgruuf goes along with this," I said, sketching a bow to the four monks.

"May the strength and truth of your voice serve you well. Breath and focus," Arngeir blessed me.

Days later Aela, Lydia, and I strode through the gates of Whiterun. It was a hero's welcome that became awkward when people saw my eyes. I admit, I did have an unnerving appearance: A man blind for only a few days moving around easily without a guide or a cane. Worse still were my eyes. I had Blue project an image of what I looked like later that afternoon and what I saw was terrifying. Both eyes were the red-brown color of thick drying blood, not just the pupil: the whole eye. Light reflected harshly from them beneath my hood in a deeply scarred face with a grim and weathered cast. From that moment onward I often wore a blindfold until my sight came back.

Jarl Balgruuf was as shocked at my appearance as many others but hid it well, though the flavor of his emotion was readily apparent in the misty world that Aura Whisper (mercifully an actual whisper) revealed to me.

"So my long-absent thane returns," He greeted me, "With his renowned housecarl, a shield-sister of the Companions, and two mages of the College. The tale behind it all is the stuff of the bards I'm sure!"

I gave my lord a polite bow, "A whole series of tales my liege. I would have you be a part of them. I need to use the palace to trap a dragon," I was hoping the shock-value alone would get my scheme through.

The court was speechless for a second. I thought I heard Steward Avenicci's teeth click when he pulled his mouth shut.

"I must have misheard you," Balgruuf replied, "I thought you asked me to help you trap a dragon in my palace."

"My quest is getting desperate lord. I wouldn't be asking if I didn't feel I was out of options."

Balgruuf sat back down and spoke through the hand over his mouth in thought, "Of course, Thane. You already saved Whiterun from a dragon. I owe you a great deal, but I don't understand. Why let a dragon into the heart of my city when we've been working so hard to keep them out?"

"Because I need to find Alduin. Capturing one of his allies could let me do that."

"Alduin? The World-Eater himself?" The Jarl breathed. "How can we fight him? Doesn't his return mean it's the end times?"

"I'm not going to roll over and die until the last day comes," I replied.

The Jarl's impression in Aura Whisper darkened for just a second, "I said nothing of giving up. I want to help you Dragonborn. And I will. But I need your help first." With that he stood and I followed the tread of his boots. He took me up a flight of stairs to the large space behind this throne. We bent over a map of Skyrim spread on the table. Balgruuf guided my hand between various flagged pins.

"The Imperials garrisoned Fort Greymoor after your Companions burned those bandits out of it," he brought my hand to one flag at a familiar place on the road to the western holds. Then he swept over the flagged hills to the south and east of the city with another gesture. "There are three Stormcloak camps in the hills and that's only what my scouts know about. Ulfric and Tullius are both waiting for me to make a wrong move. Do you think that they will sit idle while a dragon is slaughtering my men and burning my city? No. I can't risk weakening the city while we are under the threat of enemy attack. I'm sorry."

"And if you knew your city was safe from attack?"

Balgruuf hesitated for a seconds, becoming brighter and palpably braver in the murky world of my Shout, "Then I would be glad to help you with your mad dragon-trapping scheme."

I stared down at the map I couldn't really see and grasped my chin, "So where would you begin?"

Jarl Balgruuf thought for a moment, "Getting both sides to agree to a truce will be difficult at this point. The bitterness has gone very deep. What of the Greybeards? They're respected by all Nords. High Hrothgar is neutral territory. If the Greybeards were willing to host a peace council... then maybe Ulfric and Tullius would have to listen."

"I'll leave the day after tomorrow then. I'll convince Arngeir to hold a peace council."

"Aye Dragonborn. Maybe we can stop the dragons-and this war into the bargain."

I spent the whole of the next day at Jorrvaskr. The Companions needed to see their Harbinger after my weeks-long absence. I was glad to find the Circle and my housecarls diligently training our newest members to shield-wall fighting. I knew that the vast bulk of our recruits came to us as natural fighters-we took nothing else-but they were not always used to fighting with a sword or axe and shield or even beside other people, let alone other species.

Despite my hopes for peace, I could feel the war coming to Whiterun. I needed any who would be willing to follow me able to stand together against the coming storm. Part of that was allaying their fears about my own ability to fight. Under the guise of evaluating new recruits, I stepped out to the sparring ring with Vilkas and Erik 'The Slayer,' a farm boy from Rorikstead who dreamed of adventure.

Both men waited patiently until I used Aura Whisper. The effects that allowed me to 'see' the world around me lasted for a few hours before everything went dark again. Using it in a crowded environment was taking time getting used to. Every living thing became apparent for a long distance around me. Walls did nothing to block this sight. Each living 'aura' was unique and shifted with the thoughts and feelings of the thing associated with it. Even animals and plant life possessed auras that changed slightly. The stone and soil of the earth gave off a faint glow as well. In such a large and diverse place as Whiterun, Aura Whisper painted for me a shifting tapestry that I was only begging to learn how to filter through.

We fought. Vilkas was using his Skyforge claymore with adequate but unexceptional skill. His holding back was a part of our plan. He understood the purpose behind my actions and wanted to encourage Erik to fight me. He and I traded cuts and parries for a few minutes before he let his guard drop slightly. I snaked my draugr blade in and held it just before his heart. The applause was polite, but it was obvious to the experienced fighters in the crowd that he had let me win. The bright spot that was Red leaning against Blue radiated disappointment.

"Not bad Vilkas," I said, "One more time, full speed." Our next exchange was more satisfying to everyone. Despite our vast difference in stature, the two of us were well-matched. I am used to fighting people larger and stronger than me so I held my own against the tremendous strength and surgical finesse of Vilkas' attacks. The fact remained however, that Vilkas was the best swordsman in Skyrim. Even in Aura Whisper's vivid world, he was suddenly a half-visible mist as he feinted and sidestepped to my left. The magic in the Thieves' Guild hood was proved as the crosspiece of his claymore smashed into my temple without doing lasting damage. I was dazed though and soon the world spun as I wound up on my back with a heavy steel boot on my chest.

"You fight dirty Vilkas," I acknowledged.

"Good fight, Harbinger," he said, giving me a hand up.

I shook my ringing head and turned to Erik. He was all of nineteen, strong from a lifetime of working on a farm.

"Okay 'Slayer', let's see what you got," I challenged.

He set himself unenthusiastically.

I sighed and lowered my guard, "Look, I get it. You're not wild about fighting a blind man. The fact is though, you don't always get to pick your battles. So I'll make you a deal: Fight me like you mean it and you get to keep that handsome face of yours." Without pausing for breath I bore in like lightning, tapping the man's face with the flat of my blade.

For an amateur Erik wasn't bad, but I had been fighting for a decade longer than he and Aura Whisper let me react to his attacks even as he was thinking about them. I backed off the speed of my attacks and settled into the role of a teacher.

"…You have a decent rhythm Erik, but you stop every third stroke to start a fresh set. Just keep going after the last stroke. It's not one, two, three, stop. It's one, two, three, one..."

Once I worked him breathless, he bowed to Vilkas and I as the three of us left the ring.

"You did well to let them see you fight. Would you really have cut the boy?" Eorlund Gray-Mane said a few minutes later as he and I stood on the Skyforge's platform.

"If he had fought even slightly beneath his abilities, he'd have had a scar to remind him of the insult," I grumbled, "And they all needed to know that I'm not helpless because of my eyes."

"Kodlak used to worry about his age making people hold back around him. He used to do the exact same display you just did."

"Are you up for a few special projects?" I asked the smith.

Eorlund smiled with pride. "Ever since Kodlak's funeral, the Skyforge seems . . . younger somehow. Like it recognizes the greatness of that man's soul. I bet I could use it to make weapons of a quality that hasn't been seen since Whiterun's first days. I have yet to try."

I handed him the draugr blade I had been using. "I like how she feels, but it needs to be reforged. I'll need it by the end of tomorrow if you can."

He took the sword and looked closely. "Should be simple enough. What else?"

"I need my Revenant repaired. Apparently, some things are too much for the blade to handle."

Eorlund peered down into the hilt, "Looks like the soul gem fractured. Perhaps a more powerful soul gem would give you a stronger blade. Farengar would know for sure. The emerald looks like it melted when the soul gem failed. A well-cut, quality jewel and a high-quality soul gem will cost you dearly though."

I shrugged not thrilled by the appraisal, but not surprised either, "I have money enough Eorlund. I'll trust your judgment on its make. This is no rush job."

My weapons seen to, I went into the hall to talk with Argis, Iona, and Vignar, who I had asked to find a second home for the Companions. I held serious misgivings about keeping so many warriors within the walls of a crowded city. By and large they were good people, but too many of the new fighters and warriors used Red's methods of problem solving. It was only a matter of time before some outrage occurred.

"So what did you decide on?" I asked my other two housecarls and the Companion's most experienced member.

"Fort Dunstad," old Vignar proclaimed.

"Good choice," I said and meant it.

"Big enough for all 500 in a pinch, on a good road to Whiterun and in easy reach of three holds my thane," Iona said.

"And a tavern on-site," Argis remarked.

I huffed a dry laugh, "I knew I could trust you guys to pick a winner. Talk to Farkas and Vilkas about who should go to take and garrison the place."

"Where are you going Harbinger?" Vignar asked me.

"Back up to the Throat of the World. The Jarl wants me to ask the Greybeards to hold a peace summit. Someday I'll be allowed to stay down for a while."

"Gods guide you Harbinger," he said.

Well thanks again for reading. Let me know what you think.