Volund shook his head to clear the snow from his eyes and hair. He was trudging through a fierce blizzard in the air and thigh-high snow drifts on the ground. He would have been grumbling about it, too, if not for the fact that it was really too cold to have one's mouth open. Lydia followed a few steps behind him. She had wanted, of course, to handle the task of breaking their trail through the snow drifts, but Volund hadn't yet allowed her to lead. She had been indignant at the idea of her thane breaking his own trail, but had loyally fallen into step behind him nevertheless, watching the skies carefully for any signs of dragons.

In more normal times, Volund probably would have allowed her to take the lead at least half the time, but he welcomed the physical challenge today, for one main reason: the immediate, physical strain took his mind off the mess he was in.

The most impossible problem, of course, was how on Nirn he would obtain an Elder Scroll. It was an issue he hadn't even known how to begin resolving.

The problem had been given to him by another problem – a live dragon. He had been unsure of Paarthurnax's motivations, but the beast had seemed genuinely wise and benevolent, and it spoke volumes about the dragon's self-control that he hadn't eaten anyone for several thousand years.

Naturally, just when Volund had made the decision to trust Paarthurnax, the Blades had informed him that unless he killed Paarthurnax, they would turn against him, Dragonborn or not.

Then, while he was pondering this lunacy, a courier came with an urgent request from Mjoll – Jarl Mjoll, he reminded himself – in Riften for the Dragonborn's help in permanently killing two dragons she and her guardsmen had slain, at great cost to their own numbers and to Riften's buildings. He had made the trek quickly, having no idea where to start on his other problems anyway. He and Lydia had arrived just in time to help them kill a third dragon, but just too late for them to save Mistveil Keep, which was now a smoking pile of rubble. The dragon, as well, had killed an elderly lady who had looked after the town's orphans. Mjoll had called her Grelod the Kind, and Volund could only assume that the loss of such a person would be a deep blow to the city's orphans.

Devouring three dragon souls almost at once had been a dangerous pleasure, and he felt powerful beyond control for a few moments, but the feeling had subsided before long, and he felt lost again as he considered the rebuilding effort necessary for the town, and his own two difficult problems.

Of course, when it rains, it pours. The next day, two couriers arrived, both with messages for Volund. The Dragonborn had groaned and slumped to the ground, and Lydia stepped in, taking the messages and shooing away the couriers. She opened them both and skimmed the contents.

"Well?" Volund asked as she closed the scrolls.

Lydia sighed, and sat down beside him. "Good news, bad news, or strange news, my thane?" she asked.

"Good," he grunted. "I need some right now."

"Dawnstar is no longer under Stormcloak control," she said softly.

Volund brightened a bit. "I knew Tullius would start to get this thing sewed up," he started, but Lydia shook her head.

"It's not under Imperial control either. That's… that's the bad news. It's not under anyone's control, my thane, because it doesn't exist anymore. Dragons attacked it, and with few guards spared from the war effort, no walls, and wooden buildings... It's ashes and corpses now. A few miners survived by hiding underground for two days until the dragons finally left. Otherwise…" She shrugged, and made a pained face.

Volund could almost have burned down a village himself in his rage and frustration.

"How can I fight dragons all over Skyrim? One of them being, as he is, a deity who no force can defeat!" He slammed his fist against the ground, thinking at that moment that he had more chance of defeating Nirn itself than Alduin and his forces. "Talos preserve us."

Lydia's eyes were shining as she looked at him. It could have been the beginning signs of teardrops, or it could have been something else. All she said was, "He will. And Ysmir will. I have faith in him, too."

Volund laughed bitterly, but didn't say anything. When the silence had stretched on for a bit, Lydia put her hand on his shoulder.

"I haven't told you the other news, yet, my thane. The College of Winterhold calls for the aid of the Dragonborn. 'Academic consultation' was a phrase they used several times." Volund's eyebrow raised and he looked at her strangely. She smiled. "They also mentioned something about 'laying to rest revenants of Skyrim's vicious past.'"

"That sounds like something I could do," he mumbled. "But I'm not sure we can justify taking the time to help everyone out with 'academic' concerns while Alduin rules the skies."

Lydia, for the second time since Volund had known her, giggled. He turned and looked at her, confused.

"Did you hit your head, my thane? Even if they hadn't asked for our help, the College is where we should go anyway. Who in Skyrim would know more about Elder Scrolls? And they will owe us a favor, after all…"

Volund stared at her stupidly for a moment, then simply slapped his forehead and grinned.

"What would I do without you, Lydia?"

She stood, offered him her hand to help him up off the ground, and merely said, "I'm sure you'd manage, my thane." Then her eyes twinkled and her lip twitched up and she whispered, "Though I'm not sure how."

He made a show of glaring at her, and she laughed again as they hurried to prepare for a trip to Winterhold.

Now, several days later, here they were, waist deep in snow as they trudged toward the ruins of Saarthal. The college had found and excavated the ruins of the fabled Nordic city. Volund was not an academic, but he was a Nord, and the songs and legends of his people burned brightly in his mind. There was also the matter of the dragon language, which the Arch-Mage said was engraved many places in Saarthal. The College was hoping Volund could translate this for them – and deal with the nasty, Shout-wielding draugr deep in the city that had killed two mages already.

While he was doing this for them, the Arch-Mage and, more reluctantly, the surly librarian, had assured him they would do all within their power to gather information on Elder Scrolls. The librarian was, of all things, an Orc. He was a strange mixture of typical Orcish temperament and very untypical Orcish love for knowledge and books. He hadn't been keen to drop his own work for an outsider, but when Volund had explained the situation, he had gruffly but quickly promised his full cooperation.

The research would take time, successful or not, however, and so Volund and Lydia went to solve the mages' problems while they waited.

I'm alive! Sort of. Sorry for the MUCH longer than anticipated wait (life is crazy), but I do intend, and always have intended, to finish this story, even if that takes a while. Updates may be slow this time, but they will come! Thank you to all who have continued to read, review, and encourage this story. This chapter is heavy on summary, but bear with me as we get back into the swing of things.