Volund pushed open the door to Dragonsreach and stepped inside, pausing for a minute to pull off his iron helmet and adjust to the warm air and brightly lit interior of the Jarl's palace. Outside, night had fallen, and it appeared that the jarl had already retired for the evening, but he was certain that Farengar would appreciate his delivery regardless of the time.
Volund walked slowly up the few steps to reach the main level of the palace. The dragon stone had not been easy to retrieve, and it was not light. In addition, it had now been at least three days since Volund had slept in a proper bed. He had made the trip from Helgen to Whiterun to warn Jarl Balgruuf, from Whiterun to Riverwood and then up a mountain to retrieve the stone, and then back to Whiterun from there to deliver it. He was used to traveling, but this time was different. He was on a schedule, and he had to fight through a small horde of Nords who were supposed to be long dead but weren't. His armor was dented and rent, maybe beyond repair, and several times he had desperately swallowed as much of a healing potion as he could before he bled to death or a draugr could finish him off. The dead had crept from alcoves and coffins without warning, and often attacked in groups of five or more. To make it out of such a place alone and alive, he had done well. Farengar was less than impressed, however.
"Ah, the brute returns. Do you have the stone?"
Volund almost slammed his pack down on the table. The wizard was infuriatingly smug. After all he had gone through to get it, however, he didn't want to risk breaking his prize. Instead he sighed and gently removed the stone from the leather bag, placing it in front of Farengar. The court wizard's eyes lit up like a child with a sweetroll.
"The stone of Bleak Falls Barrow! You actually found it! Perhaps you are not quite so worthless as most of you big, blonde, and brainless mercenary types. But now is where your work ends and mine begins; the work of the mind. . ."
"You realize, of course, I'm not a mercenary?" Volund couldn't help but ask, teeth clenched tightly. Farengar's condescending reply was drowned out by the jarl's housecarl, Irileth.
"Farengar!" She ran into the room. "Farengar, you need to come at once! There's been a dragon attack at the western watchtower. You should come, too, Volund."
The young Nord was shocked that Irileth had remembered his name. He had met her only briefly, and most of that time she had held her sword point toward him in defense of the Jarl. He hadn't dealt with many dark elves, but she seemed professional and capable, not to mention serious to a fault. She was not visibly nervous about the possibility of fighting a dragon.
The trio raced up the stairs to the jarl's quarters. Farengar and Volund stopped in the meeting room while Irileth dashed inside to wake the jarl. The two emerged minutes later, Balgruuf wrapped in a simple robe and obviously shaking off sleep. To his credit, he became fully alert and focused when a guard, still out of breath, began to speak.
"My lord, I just ran from the western watchtower. A dragon is attacking it!"
"What's the damage, son? How many men dead? Is the tower destroyed?"
"No, my lord." The guard fumbled for words. "It… the beast hadn't actually attacked yet, it just circled overhead. But I thought for sure it would eat me when I ran to tell you!"
The jarl nodded. "You did well, son. Get some rest, and some mead if you want it." The guard forgotten, Balgruuf turned to his housecarl. "Irileth, I want you to take a detachment of soldiers and go out to the watchtower. Slay the dragon or drive it off if you need to, but I need information most. This isn't a death or glory mission, Irileth."
"Don't worry, my lord. I am the very soul of caution." She bowed, and turned to stride briskly away, already shouting orders to the nearest palace guard.
"I should go, too…" Farengar started, but the jarl cut him off.
"I can't afford to risk both you and Irileth. Stay here. If you can't sleep, work on finding ways to fight these dragons!" Balgruuf sighed, looking tired again. He turned to Volund. "My friend, you've already done much for me and my hold, but you're the only man I know who's ever seen a dragon. I need your help with this."
"Of course, my lord," Volund replied, feeling as tired as Balgruuf looked. The jarl nodded gratefully, then looked at the man's armor.
"I see you've already survived quite a bit in my service, friend. We don't have time to make new armor for you, but some of my brother's steel armor might fit you. I'll send word to the armory to ready it for you." Balgruuf nodded at a guard, who ran off toward the armory.
"Thank you, my lord. It's a great gift, but I'll take any advantage I can before facing a dragon again." The jarl nodded in approval; Volund bowed quickly and ran toward the armory.
It was chaos when he walked in. No fewer than ten guards were trying to get armored and armed. Servants rushed to bring them the next piece of armor or to help them get their chainmail positioned right. Irileth was stringing a longbow of elven craftsmanship. A young woman with her back toward Volund was talking animatedly to Irileth.
"Irileth, let me come along! You know I'm ready!"
"None of us are ready to fight a dragon, girl." Irileth finished with her bow and slung it across her back, turning to look at the girl.
Volund shook his head and turned to begin shrugging off the ruined iron plates of his armor. A servant waited with steel armor that had seen much use but had been lovingly cared for. Volund felt guilty about taking another man's armor, but not so much so that he would fight a dragon without it. The conversation continued behind him.
"I might not come back from this. If I don't, you're the best candidate I can think of to replace me as the Jarl's housecarl. There's no sense risking us both in one day, Lydia."
Volund couldn't hear her reply over the sound of steel plates clanging as they lowered over his head. By the time he could see again, the girl was gone, and Irileth stood impatiently at the door, waiting for him to finish.
"Come on, little one. We need to get out there now."
A servant finished securing the rear armor plate in place, and Volund stepped into his boots. "Little one?" he grunted. "I'm a foot taller than you."
"And I've got more than three times your age under my belt, I'd wager. You're fresh. I hope you survive this."
"I've seen more dragons than you. Tonight, you're fresh. I hope you survive this." Fully armored at last, Volund grabbed a sword and shield and strode toward the door.
Irileth had an expression that was almost a smile. "Some fight in you after all. I suppose you'll do alright," she said.
They met the guards at the gate, and jogged to the west through the darkness as quickly as armored fighters can. Before long, they could see a glow from the watchtower.
"I guess he isn't just circling," Volund panted as he ran.
Irileth stayed quiet, and the guards did, too. Volund absently wondered if they were more afraid of the dragon or Irileth. The group ran on in silence until they reached what used to be the watchtower. Flames burned in the grass and in the tower's rubble. The top level of the building had been crushed. As they approached, a terrified guard in a scorched uniform crawled out from a hole in some of the bigger rubble.
"Get back," he hissed in a loud whisper, "or hide, or something! He'll see you!" Volund smelled urine as the guard got closer. "There's nothing we can do!" the poor man said. "Kynareth save us! Here he comes again!"
And indeed, huge wingbeats filled the air. It was dark enough that the dragon was visible only as an absence of stars against the sky, but his roars were difficult to miss, and his shape soon was, as well. A blast of fire lit the dragon, the tower, and the ground as he dove toward the group of guards, which scattered just in time.
Volund crouched behind a stone, peering out into the night to find the dragon again. He yelled out what he knew to the guards. "Fire, you've already seen! He's also going to try to pick you up and fly away with you, then drop you. Dodge his talons! He'll also bite for you, watch for the lunges! I don't think arrows are going to hurt him if they hit his scales. Aim for the wings, or the head. Maybe we'll get lucky and hit an eye!"
The guards fired arrow after arrow at the beast, but it gave as good as it got. Three guards fell down screaming as they burned alive, and one was grabbed and dropped just as Volund had seen at Helgen. Irileth, meanwhile, was a marvel, firing shots more than twice as quickly as any other guard. When her quiver was empty, she slung her bow onto her back and began to cast lightning bolts toward the dragon. Its flight was growing more labored, and the lightning revealed quite a few arrows stuck into its wings and scales. One bolt of lightning hit its head, and it shrieked and swerved. Just then, a lucky or skilled arrow from another guard hit it just where the wing connected to the body. The dragon screamed again in rage or pain as it plummeted to the ground.
It landed near one of the guards, and scrambled up in time to run him down and bite him nearly in half. Only five guards, Irileth, and Volund remained. One guard fell to a horrendous blow from the beast's tail, and Volund added that to his ever-growing list of weapons dragons possessed. He and Irileth were on one side of the beast, and the rest of the guards on another. The dragon whirled and breathed flame toward Irileth. She ducked behind a rock, which shielded her from the worst of the heat. Volund took the opening it gave him and rushed toward the dragon's head. He swung a vicious blow with his sword, but the dragon had seen him. It dodged and counter-attacked with a bite; Volund managed to move out of its way, and strike its neck with his sword. Sparks flew as it bounced off a spike on the spine of the dragon. Volund swung again and a thin cut appeared in the scales on the side of its neck, bleeding lazily. The beast roared, then spoke.
"Mirmulnir los unslaad! Mirmulnir neh dir!"
"Shut up and die," Volund grunted. The dragon lunged at him, but he braced himself for it. The beast's teeth caught his shield and its mouth was held open. Volund stabbed upward through the roof of its mouth, and it screamed, shuddered, and dropped to the ground, motionless.
Volund stood panting over it, feeling about collapse from exhaustion. The living guards were timidly approaching him and the dragon, waiting to see if it was really dead. Then the night broke.
A rainbow of color erupted like fire from the body of the dragon, and its scales flew outward or fell to the ground. Its flesh boiled and evaporated into the mist which lit the whole area. Volund was deciding whether or not he should run when it all rushed toward him. He gasped, prepared for it to burn, but instead it was only warm. The energy rushed around and through him, and finally it was all drawn into his body. He was left alone and bewildered, no longer tired or bruised. For some reason, his thoughts went back to Bleak Falls Barrow. A wall there looked like it had been mangled by huge claws, but he knew instinctively that it was writing. A word stood out to him, and he had thought it said Fus. He had thought himself crazy, because he didn't know the script nor what the word might mean. But now he knew. Fus was force, power. He felt it.
"FUS!" He had meant to speak, but the word bubbled up inside of him and he shouted at the top of his lungs instead. The dragon's remains, still smoking, looked like they had been hit by a giant. They flew away and shook apart. Volund was stunned.
For a second time, the guards inched back toward him. One had lit a torch from the flames on the tower wreckage. He dared to speak.
"I can't believe it! You're… dragonborn!"
"That can't be," Volund snapped. He had heard of the dragonborn. Every Nord had. Talos and the others, long before him, who shouted down dragons and stole the beasts' power. But there had been no dragons, and no dragonborns, for an age.
"But you are! You absorbed the dragon's power!" Another guard chimed in this time.
"You may… You may be right." Volund couldn't comprehend what was happening.
"Yes, I think I am," the guard insisted. "You can shout now!"
Volund's knees threatened to give out. The prospect was beyond belief. Then Irileth saved him. Whether she had noticed his growing shock and taken pity, or just had enough of the guards' speculation, he wasn't sure, but he could have hugged the stoic elf when she stepped in to bring them all back to earth.
"Some of you would be better off keeping quiet than flapping your gums on matters you know nothing about," she snapped. "Here's a dead dragon – that's something I definitely understand. Now we know we can kill them. But I don't need some mythical dragonborn – someone who can put down a dragon is more than enough for me."
Some of the guards began to protest, but she cut them off. "No more. I've seen plenty of outlandish things in every corner of Tamriel, and dragons are bound to have a few quirks of their own. Volund, would you tell the Jarl what happened here? I'm not sure my guards can contain themselves enough to give an accurate report. Besides, we'd better see to the dead." Volund nodded, and began the trip back to Whiterun. He walked at a normal pace, no longer weary in muscle but still ready for this day to be over. It had one final surprise in store for him, however. Before he reached the city, the ground shook and the sky thundered, and a message flew from the top of the Throat of the World to reach every ear in Skyrim.
"Dovahkiin!"
Author's note: Mirmulnir says "Mirmulnir is eternal! He can never die!"
Thanks to those who have taken the time to review this! I feel your pain; the beginning is a lot of describing what we all already know (though I tried to ease that by cutting out Riverwood and Bleak Falls Barrow), but next chapter we get our second main character, and then things should start picking up. I'm excited for this story, and I'll try to update it fairly regularly, and keep things interesting within it.