"Have you killed Paarthurnax?"
"No," Whitland answered through clenched teeth.
"Then I think you know my answer."
"How can you say that? Is it or is it not your sworn duty to protect me?"
"Yes, but-" he cut her off.
"Then protect me and help me defeat an evil that threatens all of Skyrim! The Blades cannot hold old grievances forever, Delphine. If you wish to set the past aside, then meet me at Fort Dawnguard, I am done trying to convince you."
He exited the chamber briskly and found an animated Esbern deep in conversation with Serana and showing her Alduin's Wall. Serana seemed to be listening intently and the two took no notice whatsoever of his presence. He cleared his throat, drawing both of their startled faces.
His response was short. "I think we should be leaving Esbern, it was good to see you."
"Why of course, Dragonborn, perhaps we will see each other in the near future." said the old man in his gravelly voice. Whitland snorted. That was more than unlikely if he had anything to go by with his conversation with Delphine. On second thought, it was more like a screaming match considering that he was pretty certain that any kind of civilized conduct did not go anything above a raised voice.
Esbern looked at Serana with what seemed to be real remorse. "It shall have to be another day that I tell you of the Blades history, my dear, and you will have to tell me all about your life and how it was centuries ago."
"Yes, thank you Esbern, it was nice speaking to you." Serana managed to say and hurried to keep up with Whitland's quick strides out the door.
"So I'm guessing it didn't go so well with Delphine." she said once they were out of Sky Haven Temple.
He smiled bitterly. "No, it didn't. Delphine is set in her ways. The dragons have killed many of her ancestors and she cannot let her hate go. I doubt the Blades will join us unless I do as she wishes and kill Paarthurnax." he searched for a lighter topic. "Did you like Esbern? He is quite the scholar and is probably fascinated by you."
"I liked him, he acts like he's everyone's grandfather. He was also quite informative." she said, glancing sideways at him.
He groaned while they walked over to his horse. A certain vampire had encouraged him with her constant grumbling to buy the animal. He had purchased the stallion first thing when they had reached Riften to contact the Thieves Guild. Not that he was naming names or anything, but it wasn't because one of Harkon's brutes had been bothering him. Just his daughter.
"What did he tell you?"
"Well I knew you saved Skyrim, just not in so much detail as I do now."
He swung into the horse's saddle and helped her up. "And?"
"Let's just say I'm a little more impressed than before." He let out a chuckle at her words, forgetting his earlier frustration. It might have helped when she wrapped her arms around him in the saddle once they started moving.
"You shouldn't let Delphine's refusal to rifle you up so much," advised Serana, "You already have the College of Winterhold and the Thieves Guild helping. General Tullius said he would spare a few men and the Companions are more than happy to lend a hand."
She was right. He had contacted Tolfdir and the old mage had promised to send five mages over to Fort Dawnguard. Brynjolf had also sent the best three archers they had at his order. General Tullius, with a combination of threatening and taunting, had agreed to have seven of his men to serve under his command until he 'wiped out this minor threat.' All of the Companions in the Circle were coming over to the fort, more than eager to fight after he had explained the situation to them. They had easily doubled their fighting force.
He sighed, and the last remains of his anger washed away. "I know, I just wish Delphine could see past her hate and see the bigger picture."
"It will take some time-" Her voice was droned out by a distant roar. A roar he had grown to be very familiar with. It was a sound that would tear through the air and claim its dominance as lord of the skies. He could feel the beginnings of a shout in the back of his throat in answer to its call and the need to make his thu'um known.
"Move!" A male voice suddenly bellowed.
A man completely encased in a suit of dark armor emerged from the bushes. In spite of the heavy weight he was wearing, he seemed to be moving quite nimbly and charging across the land with the speed of an arrow's flight. He was also heading straight towards them.
Whitland blinked. Only when Serana tightened her arms around his waist, was he reminded that he needed to do something other then sit there like a frozen deer. He attempted to steer clear of the human projectile, but his reactions were far too slow.
With a loud crash, the man slammed into them at full momentum and hurled all three of them to the ground. His horse reared before galloping away across the mountainside and abandoning his riders. For Talos' sake that was his second horse!
"Why didn't you move!?" the man said crossly while he picked himself up.
Whitland felt his blood boil. He stood up and stopped when he was only inches away from the man's masked face. "Why didn't you stop?"
As quick as a flash, the man grabbed something from his belt and flicked it with practiced ease. Whitland braced himself, but all he heard was a soft thump and a yelp from behind him. Turning around, he found a knife had buried itself in the black hide of a wolf. He scowled. Great, now he owed the man, and he was impressed.
His attention was drawn back to the man as he let out a frustrated sigh. "Look," the man said impatiently, "I've got a dragon on my tail and a pack of wolves. I've got no time to talk. Another time would be great, but right now, I need to run like Hircine's on my ass."
A shadow swept over them. Whitland smirked. "Too late, we'll have to fight them."
As if on signal, six wolves darted out of the underbrush and pounced upon the three of them. Serana waved her hand and one of the creatures fell down with a spike of ice protruding from its chest. Two more were killed similarly by him.
He watched with interest as the man rapidly released three knives in a quick session. He had never heard of using knives as a weapon, much less throwing them. Missing only one of his marks, the man withdrew a greatsword that matched the rest of his armor and struck the last beast down. A chasm of flames interrupted their victory and a dragon swooped over them.
"Now we're going to have to be roasted alive until the damned thing decides to land." stated the man irritably.
Whitland smiled. "I might be able to help." He looked up to the skies and finally released the shout that still hummed in his throat.
"STRUN! BAH! QO!"
At his will, the sky darkened and thunderclouds began to gather. A frenzy of droplets began to fall from the sky and pelt the ground. A clap of thunder blasted through the air as the Nine Divines cried out to punish the land. An arch of lightning sliced into the darkness and temporarily illuminated the black sky. The silhouette of a dragon was exposed and a snarl of pain echoed throughout the mountainsides.
There was a growl and suddenly the dragon was hovering in front of them. Another crack of thunder and a flare of light. It opened its maw and released an inferno of flames, but most of the blaze was lost in the on pour of rain.
He took a deep breath. "JOOR! ZAH! FRUL!" He could barely hear himself over the storm, but a greenish light took hold of the dragon and forced it to land. A lash of lightning zigzagged and snapped like a whip. The creature howled.
Whitland coughed; his throat rough and tingling from shouting in such a short interval. His knees almost buckled, but he stayed upright. "Now would be the time where you kill it." he hollered.
By some miracle, they heard him and carefully drew closer to the beast. The man started hacking at it with his greatsword and Serana let out her own cracks of lightning bolts at the animal. The dragon roared and swiped at the closest enemy in reach. Its talons raked across the man's helmet and tossed him easily into the air. The man landed hard in a stretch of mud but got up almost instantly afterwards. He continued to fight but the beast's assault seemed to have hindered him.
Whitland could feel the storm begin to fade and lose its intensity. One last tendril of lightning reached for the creature and with a hiss, the dragon tumbled to the ground. There was a final clap of thunder and just as quickly as the storm had came, it left Skyrim without a hint of its occurrence.
The dragon began to glow like a burning coal and the flesh seemed to burn right off its body. A flurry of light transferred from its broken form to him. Whitland felt a warm energy smolder inside him for a short moment as he absorbed the dragon's soul. Then it was gone and all that was left of the creature was a mound of bones.
"I thought we could take them." said Whitland to the awestruck man and Serana. He looked on with amusement as they stared at him.
"You caused that?" said the man in wonder. His armor was caked in mud from when the dragon had attacked him.
"Well I didn't just shout into the sky for the fun of it." he remarked. "I am Whitland by the way and this is Serana, my vampire companion." Seeing his alarmed face, he reassured him, "But she won't kill you as long as you're on her good side." The man just continued to stare.
Serana seemed to regain her composure. "This is the part where you tell us your name." She put in helpfully.
The man shook his head and straightened. "Right. I am Elvyr and-" Elvyr paused and swayed dangerously on his feet before sinking to the ground. "And I'm a little hurt." he admitted.
They rushed to his side. Whitland winced as he surveyed the damage the dragon had dealt the man. Three paths of dents lined his chest piece from where the dragon had mauled him. It had to be making it hard for him to breathe, but luckily the armor had taken most of the hit. The worst part was his helmet; the entire front of it was caved in and a thin streak of blood was running out from the bottom.
"We'll have to take your helmet off." said Whitland. He moved to touch it, but Elvyr swerved out of his reach.
"No," he said with a faint voice, "I'll be fine, just keep it on." He pushed their hands aside and stood. "See? Perfectly fi-" Whitland caught him before he'd hit the ground. Serana and him shared a look.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she said, smiling mischievously.
"And what's that?" he asked.
"Like oblivion we're not going to take the helmet off if just to see what the guy looks like."
He smiled. "We're completely in sync now."
"I knew there was a reason I stuck around with you."
"It's not because your dad wishes to end the tyranny of the sun and use you as a sacrifice?"
"Oh please, there are plenty of other people like you I could have gone to." she said dismissively.
"Is there?" he challenged.
She pursed her lips. "Well no, but that isn't fair, who can compete with saving the entire land and being the last Dragonborn? You're asking for a lot."
"Sorry, I was born as the Dragonborn and prophesized to save Skyrim."
"I suppose you're forgiven." she said gravely, but with smiling eyes.
Together, the pair of them gently pried the helm off Elvyr's face. They were met with an image of stark white hair. Elvyr was a Nord by the strength of his jaw and his light hair, but his face was quite angular for his race and held the faintest resemblance of a wood elf. A wicked scar ran from his cheekbone to his jaw. After a quick check, they found he only had a bit of head trauma and a cut lip.
"I wonder why he was such a freak about his helmet." mused Serana after they had healed Elvyr and taken off his breastplate.
He shrugged. "Everyone has their secrets."
"Really? Then what's one of yours?"
He gestured for her to come closer. Her hair smelled of wildflowers and something he couldn't quite name. He whispered against her ear. "I can't tell you. Then it wouldn't be a secret." She shivered and leaned into him more. "Say it."
"I-" Elvyr suddenly stirred and the two scrambled away from each other and their more than compromising positions.
The Nord sat up and rubbed his head before freezing. Putting two and two together, he cracked his eyes open to reveal a set of pale blue orbs. He sighed once he saw them. "You took my helmet off."
"It's more like scrap metal now from the damage its taken." offered Whitland. "Why didn't you want us to take it off?"
Elvyr hesitated. "I'm a wanted man." he confessed.
"For?"
"I found out something I shouldn't and now the whole coven of Dark Brotherhood assassins is out to get me. I actually didn't commit any crimes, but whoever's paying them has a lot of gold to spend." Elvyr sighed again. "Listen, I'll be out of your hair soon."
"No," Whitland said slowly, "I think I want you to join us. We're trying to kill a vampire and the rest of his goons from ending the sun. Interested?"
Elvyr grinned. "It sounds like an adventure, but what about the assassins?"
Whitland smiled. "Join the club, I've got a few on my hands, but the brotherhood wouldn't be dumb enough to try and kill us in a battle filled with blood thirsty vampires that could just as easily kill them as you and me."
"Then I'm in."
"We should probably start moving then. We need to get to Fort Dawnguard quick before they decide to attack." And also so he could have Auriel's bow back in sights again, he thought privately to himself. Against his better judgment, he had left it there since the whole point was to make the vampires come to them. Stupid logic and all that.
The three of them started walking down the mountainside together. Serana looked at the cloudless sky with a grimace. "The sun didn't even let up after the storm you created, still bright as ever." she said with dislike.
Whitland groaned. "Remind me to strangle you Elvyr when she starts talking about how much faster we would have made it to the fort with a horse."
***A/N This was a lot longer than most of my chapters and it was more action packed than fluffy. Elvyr was made at a guest's request. He will be the only one to have the special ability to throw knives just because he's awesome and I said so.