I clash my cup with Kharjo before taking a huge gulp of my mead. It's been quite some time since I have had the chance to share a drink with the Khajiit and we do so with pride, sitting in the bar, our backs turned towards the rest of the crowd who are enjoying the night with their own respected drinks. The bards are out and they sing their songs to add to the ambiance while the crowd cheered on. It's definitely one of those nights; a rare occasion to find myself in with everything that has been going on.

"The Legendary Onyx manages to leave his helmet off for more than an hour," Keerava, the innkeeper had always been friendly due to my business with Riften, though teasing is often not welcome despite her being comfortable doing it, "then whispers pervading all about must be telling the truth."

"You should concentrate on acquiring more word of work for the common mercenaries," I respond before taking another drink, "rather than entertain gossips of adolescents."

"Come now, Dragonborn, she is right," Kharjo himself can't help but add in to the pestering, "ever since her arrival, just how many more pillaging and slave trade have been deterred?"

I respond with a glare which makes Kharjo chuckle as he takes another sip of his drink. Honestly, Kharjo is a better comrade in battle than a person to have a conversation with. Well, at least there are times when he knows when to stop pushing the issue of certain topics; luckily this is one of those times. For a few moments there was only the sound of the party and the fire crackling beside us. To my dismay however, I can't help but delve into those thoughts that were instigated by the questions placed on my lap. Truth or not, I'm not much to confirm them so I'll leave them to be rumors.

Then the music starts and I recognized the tune immediately; I surmise another bard would pay his respect to my presence. It's a common tribute in Riften, one that sometimes ends up a bit of an embarrassment because of the wine being passed around. Shrugging my shoulder, I take my cup and take another big gulp, nearly finishing it.

"Our hero, our hero claims a warrior's heart,"

Any action I was about to make comes to a complete halt as the voice resounds among the crowd, silencing the hollering of the drunks and the jolly.

"I tell you, I tell you the Dragonborn comes."

If Kharjo wasn't looking pass me, I'm sure he can tell that my body language shifts from a stoic and bored posture, to a more shocked and intrigued one. The Khajiit's cup is halfway towards his mouth, mystified by the singer's voice. Even Keerava pauses from her cleaning routine as she stares towards the center of the inn.

"With a Voice wielding power of the ancient Nord arts,

Believe, believe, the Dragonborn comes."

By now I had turned my body so that my attention would be at the small gathering of people who are giving the singer their undivided attention.

"It's an end to the Evil of all Skyrim's foes,"

I can't quite see her; too many gathered around enjoying the beauty of her voice.

"Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes."

Sliding off the stool, I place my feet on the ground, letting my boots touch the wooden floor as I slowly walk towards the circle of people.

"For the Darkness has passed and the legend yet grows,"

There she is indeed… singing the songs that so many have failed to impress me with. There she is, the one they call 'Snow Queen', the blight of Skyrim, singing the song that tells of my legend.

"You'll know, you'll know, the Dragonborn comes."

She sings in exaltation despite her knowledge of what the Dragonborn does. Her face ever so graceful as she hums the rest of the tune as the words of the common tongue had ended… she sang it beautifully that she pulled every eyes and ears at her direction.

"If you do not kiss Elsa for singing a song about you," Kharjo is now standing beside me; watching her in awe like me, "I shall do it for you."

I stare at Kharjo with an expression mixed with annoyance and astonishment and he chuckles in response as he offers a toast with his cup.

"Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin

Naal ok zin los vahriin,"

And out of nowhere she sings words in dragon tongue….

"Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal

Ahrk fin norok paal graan,"

Everyone gawks at her and for the first time in forever, the natives and I have the same expressions and feelings residing within our faces.

"Fod nust hon zindro zaan

Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal."

How she managed to sing with such eloquence in a foreign tongue has me frozen in place. As Elsa hums to the closing tune of the song, I give Kharjo's words some thought.

I just had to get this out of my mind. I'm pretty sure this will happen somewhere in the later chapters(MUCH LATER) of Frozen Skyrim. Yeah, a bit of a spoiler I suppose. And obvioulsy a few things will change and it will be much more detailed when the time comes.