A/N: Apologies to all who have enjoyed this fic for its run. I was feeling very constrained by the adherence to the Dragonborn concept, to the point where I thought I'd have to make Danni give the finger to Skyrim and not use her powers to save the world. Instead, I decided to un-dragon her. :) So I've rewritten chapters 9 and 10 to fit this concept, and now I think we're ready to move on. Sorry if you had your heart set on Danni being Dragonborn. If I was going to continue with this fic, she had to be 'normal.'
Astonishment
I have no idea how I got from the Jarl's dais down to the patch of road in front of the blacksmith's shop with a dozen grim-faced men, Mauronk, and a Dunmer woman pacing back and forth in front of us all, spouting those platitudes and encouragements in the face of impending doom that always seem to rally the troops in movies. I was about a heartbeat away from dissolving in a puddle or running for the hills. If Mauronk hadn't been there, occasionally giving me an encouraging nod, I would have taken the runner option.
Not particularly encouraged, Irileth. Tone down the 'if we die, we die with honor' talk because it's really not helping. Screw Richard III's demand for a horse; I wanted an Uzi. I was momentarily distracted from the pep talk by a little boy, probably about nine or ten, pushing a quiver full of arrows into my hands, then moving on to the next guy to do the same.
Before I knew it, Irileth gave the command, which I missed because it was like my ears were full of panic-spun cotton, and the troops filed out through the front gates.
"Take aim carefully," Mauronk said close to me. "Point up. That is where the dragon will be."
I slowly turned my head and glared at him. He offered a wan smile.
For some reason, the lame attempt at humor kind of helped. A little. Tension I didn't realize was wound so tight, loosened a smidgen. Taking a deep breath, I tried not to focus too hard on the fight to come, and narrowed it all down to keeping up with the men around me, who broke into a trot once we were on the road heading for the tower.
It was farther than in the game, which shouldn't have surprised me. By the time we covered the distance, everyone was a little winded. Unlike the game, though, we didn't arrive at the watchtower in between attacks. No, the dragon was going to town, circling the structure and blasting away at it. Even a hundred yards off, we could hear the screams as one or two of the defenders caught fire.
Irileth led us in a charge straight into the thick of it, and I followed the rest of them like a mindless sheep. Mauronk and I took up a position in the lee of a toppled wall and started firing. The other men did the same – grab cover and start shooting.
Of course, there was no health bar hovering in the air to let me know we were damaging the dragon. As far as I could tell, as it swooped low overhead and scorched another guy, it wasn't particularly affected by our feeble attempts to bring it down. My arms were hurting from pulling that bowstring back in such rapid succession, but I kept at it. Then the damn thing came down.
It was a really clumsy landing, its front legs buckling under it so it face planted and dug a furrow fifty yards long. Rather than being out for the count, the bastard roared and snapped, catching a man in its jaws who'd thought it was time to bring swords into play. He got chewed in half for his poor judgment, and I nearly hurled.
"Shoot it! Shoot it!" Irileth roared, directing her men to keep up the assault. Mauronk and I let the dragon have it with both barrels, so to speak.
Gathering itself, the dragon tried to launch back into the sky, but apparently the seventy-five or so arrows sticking out of it finally took their toll. It got about fifty feet in the air then came crashing down again. The earth shook under my feet and I almost lost my balance. More arrows flew, the dragon roared an angry protest that damn near caved in my eardrums, then finally, it sort of went limp and sank into the ground.
I was completely done in, and leaned against Mauronk for support. He put an arm around me. Gods, nothing felt so good as that.
"A beast out of legends," one of the guards whispered in awe as we all cautiously approached the biggest side of beef in all of Tamriel.
"I don't care much for legends and stories," Irileth said firmly. "All I see is dead dragon. You, Danni and Mauronk. Tell Jarl Balgruuf the dragon has been defeated. We will remain here and tend the wounded and the dead."
Effectively dismissed, the two of us made our slow way back to Whiterun. It was weird, not seeing the dragon's carcass go foosh. Was the big spontaneous combustion effect all part of the Dragonborn deal? Must've been, because it just lay there like roadkill. Something sort of nagged at the back of my mind about that, making me wish I'd actually finished the damn game. Was there something... something important about absorbing the soul? Something I was missing? You know, besides the soul powering up the Shouts. Yes, I'd started a bunch of characters, but I never got very far in the game because I hadn't settled on that one avatar that... spoke to me. In retrospect, I should have made it an Orc. That might have kept me interested.
I couldn't grab whatever that thought was. By the time we reached Whiterun, it was sunset, and a traveling band of Khajiiti were setting up their little encampment outside the walls. We waved to them as we passed.
"Mauronk," I said thoughtfully, "did that seem... too easy to you?"
He glanced at me and furrowed his bony brow. "Compared to what? It was easily the toughest fight I have been in."
"Yeah," I agreed. "Pretty... rough stuff." But I couldn't get that frown off my face or those weird thoughts out of my head.
Word managed to travel fast, so I had to assume someone ran ahead or the guards on the walls were able to see some of the battle, because we were cheered as we passed through the gates. Forcing a smile on my face, I let several townspeople and guards escort us up the hill to Dragonsreach, patting our backs and clamoring for details. It was overwhelming and unsettling, but we obliged them as best we could. Eventually, we made it up to Dragonsreach proper, and the guards pushed the crowd back to allow us unhindered access.
Compared to outside, the interior of the Jarl's palace was as silent as a tomb. We presented ourselves to Balgruuf and gave him the run-down of the battle. At his side were Farengar the mage and Avenicci.
"You have performed a noble service, coming to our aid as you did," the Jarl said solemnly. "For that, I name you Danni, Thane of Whiterun."
It was on the tip of my tongue to protest and insist that Mauronk had as much if not more to do with the dragon's demise than I did, but Balgruuf was already rising and taking a sword from Avenicci's hands. I was struck speechless: as swords go, it was pretty plain, being a steel weapon with little ornamentation. But it shimmered with enchantment, and was positively beautiful because it was for me. I accepted the blade almost reverently.
"As Thane of Whiterun, you may take into your service a Housecarl to guard your life and your fortunes. Lydia," he said, gesturing to a tall, dark-featured Nord woman I hadn't noticed before.
It was all happening a bit too fast, and I just sort of stumbled over my own tongue as she ascended the dais and sort of snapped to attention.
"Um... that's... I appreciate that, muh-my Jarl, sir," I stammered, shooting my gaze around at all the expectant faces. "I... if it wouldn't be... an insult or anything, I'd like to... uh... retain my... friend Mauronk as... Housecarl. We've been through a lot together and... I trust him with my life."
"If that is your wish, it is granted," Balgruuf nodded, and dismissed Lydia with a gesture. She bowed curtly then spun on her heel with military precision and marched out the doors. Wow, I hope I didn't piss her off. She had the look of someone who'd take your head off if you looked at her funny. Pretty much just exactly as she looked in the game, come to think of it.
"I expect you have need of rest," he continued. "You may stay here in the guest quarters, or if you prefer, The Bannered Mare has adequate rooms. I do believe the guardsmen will shortly be flocking there for the honeyed mead to celebrate their victory." He smiled knowingly. "I do not doubt you wish to join in the merrymaking."
"Yeah," I said, nodding, "We'd... yes, that would be.. great." I still didn't know quite how to talk to these people.
As we turned to leave, I caught out of the corner of my eye another sort of... hmmm... a suspicious look? Like he wasn't quite sure what he was seeing, couldn't believe what his gut was telling him, but wasn't about to insult me by asking. It made me pretty uncomfortable, not the least because I didn't know what he was looking at. I wasn't doing anything to give off vibes of a forbidden nature.
Of course, the cat got out of the bag after we left the palace and were on our way down the stairs to The Bannered Mare.
"Did you mean what you said?" Mauronk asked.
"What did I say?" I asked.
"That you trusted me with your life," he said. I caught the note of seriousness in his voice and stopped to look at him.
"Yeah, Mauronk," I said, nodding. "I do."
"It... is my honor to be your Housecarl," he said humbly, and inclined his head in a short bow. "I will endeavor to be worthy of you."
"You are, or I wouldn't have said it," I assured him, reaching up to stroke his cheek. He closed his eyes and smiled a little. "You're way more than a Housecarl to me, by the way," I went on. "You are friend and lover as well. I don't need Miss Rod-up-her-ass when I have you."
He chuckled for a moment, then grew serious again. "Forgive me, Danni, but... I could not help... I am afraid I looked at you... The Jarl saw..."
"Hey," I said, pressing my fingers to his lips to shush him. "I don't care. What's he gonna do, huh? Is there a law against it? Or just weird social conventions? Because I really don't give a crap about social conventions. They can suck it."
"I do not wish to dishonor you," he insisted. I rolled my eyes.
"Be honest with me, keep being the good man you are, and you won't," I said. "There is no dishonor in loving someone."
Oh my. That took us both by surprise. I had to look away and take five to shake in my boots. He was having a Twix moment about it, too.
"No," he agreed shakily. "No... dishonor... in loving... Danni," he breathed, and I swear, he looked like he was going to cry. My big, manly, ass-kicking Mauronk, dissolving in tears because...
"I mean it," I said firmly. "How about we go to the Mare and... maybe I'll prove it, huh?"
Smiling, he said, "As my Thane wishes."
I had just decided that The Bannered Mare had the softest, most deliciously comfortable post-coital bed in Whiterun Hold, lovingly supporting bodies thoroughly done in from vigorous lovemaking and dragon slaying, when there was a furious pounding on the door of our room.
Son of a bitch.
Mauronk, preferring the side of the bed closest to the door, rolled out clumsily and fell on his ass on the floor, his legs tangled up in the bedclothes. I smothered a giggle and he growled at me. Suppressing more giggles as he hopped on one foot to pull on some breeches before answering the door, I considered suggesting he just whip open the door as he was. That would discourage anyone from interrupting us again.
Once he was decently covered, he opened the door to a practically frantic young guardsman.
"Mauronk," he blurted, "Where is Thane Danni?"
The Orsimer jerked his head back toward me and said, "She's indisposed. What do you want?"
The guard looked momentarily bewildered, and tried to see past Mauronk's broad shoulder. Which he shifted to block the guy's view into the dark room. Sighing, I started pulling on my clothes.
"What is it?" Mauronk barked more forcefully, and the guard swallowed.
"Jarl Balgruuf demands you come to Dragonsreach immediately," he said urgently. "I'm to bring you both now."
"Why?" Mauronk snarled. "We were given leave to rest. Has the Jarl changed his mind?"
"No, sir," the man said, shaking his head. "Something... strange has happened, and he wants you to come."
Once I was dressed, I joined Mauronk in the doorway. "What 'strange thing'? What are you talking about?"
Looking relieved, he turned to me. "Thane Danni, you must come quickly. The dragon has disappeared."