Ysara had been quick on her feet, running along the path to Lake Gier. Vidrak had been right behind her, keeping up his running pace just even with hers. The dragon had roared, before it had inhaled, and breathed out a breath of fire.

Vidrak had felt a sudden strong force pull him to the ground to dodge the fire breath that had been incoming. Ysara had gripped her hand around his arm, before swinging him to the ground with immense power. The two took cover behind a rock, as the dragon had begun to fly around the air now. Ysara had tracked the drag around the lake, flying high in the sky waiting to strike down them.

"You must get it's attention!" Ysara informed.

Vidrak's eyebrows raised in disagreement. "What good will I do if I'm burned to a crisp?"

"Do not worry. I'll take it down the moment it notices you. I will protect you." She assured him. Vidrak looked at her intently, and his face contorted into a determined expression. He nodded, before unsheathing his weapon and running out from cover.

He shouted obscenities and names at the monster, which had heard his voice. The dragon roared, swooping down low to the ground, readying to burn the Nord warrior. He had stiffened, seeing the dragon come full speed at him with fire oozing from his mouth.

"JOOR!"

Her voice shook his eardrums, and she had let out a gust of blue that had shaken the very ground they were on.

A flash of a blue had clouded his vision, and he looked up to see the dragon covered in a blue aura. It had struggled to stay afloat. He heard multiple footsteps overlapping from behind, he looked over his shoulder to see Ysara running full speed towards him. He didn't have the time to react at all, so he ducked. She had jumped over him completely, carrying herself at least ten feet in the air. She held the katana over her head with a roar, before bringing it down violently into the dragon's head.

It had roared in pain, thrashing around to fling Ysara off of its head but she didn't let off easily. She had ripped the katana from it's skin, before stabbing it once again with a more powerful force. "Sir Vidrak," she yelled out, grabbing his attention. "Cut its legs! Force it to be grounded!"

In a flash of speed, Vidrak had dashed around the dragon, quickly slicing at its legs. He could feel the skin ripping under his sword, slicing as hard as he could. The dragon roared once again, before it finally managed to toss Ysara off of its head. She landed rough on the ground, not moving for a split second.

"Ysara!" He called out, before he turned to the roaring dragon that had limped around. It had moaned in pain, before it deeply snarled. It had pulled it's head back, fire foaming at its mouth.

It inhaled before, a breath of fire had come shooting out of its ugly snarl. He felt himself be roughly pushed to the side, and Ysara had matched the dragon's fire with a fire breath of her own. Hers undoubtedly stronger. Her fire had clashed with the dragons, watching the flames fire for dominance. Ysara's own breath had begun to overpower the dragons as a wave of strength had flowed through her. Vidrak watched her own breath begin to push the dragon's back, until her fire had entirely engulfed the roaring dragon. The fire had burned the dragon furiously, and Ysara had jumped high and mighty; bringing the sword down into the dragon's head.

Its roar had echoed throughout the valley, before it had finally begun to sway. In its weakened state, the dragon had moaned in pain. The katana had been embedded into its head, and it had crawled a few feet before stopping a few feet away from Ysara. It's bloodied face locked onto Vidrak, then sneering it had snapped its attention to Ysara.

"Rok fen come fah hi…" The dragon had weakly spat, venom still dripping in his voice. Vidrak had raised an eyebrow at the ancient and foreign tongue, he had turned towards Ysara who had a scowl on his face with a gritting of her teeth.

"Ahrk rok fen dir." He heard Ysara mutter loud enough for the dying dragon to hear. What kind of language was that? Vidrak thought. That wasn't language any man or mer spoke. He's been to almost everywhere in Tamriel, and heard all languages. This one though, was completely foreign to him. He looked at her, with curiosity. "Dragon tongue," she simply said. "You learn it as you go being a Dragonborn."

The dragon softly groaned, before it lay limp on the dirt ground. Dead. Ysara had a few cuts and bruises, whilst Vidrak had felt a gash alongside his forearm. Blood had seeped from it, and he had gritted his teeth with the slightest move of his arm. He felt Ysara step a foot or two towards him, before her hand had flowed a gold color.

He took his eyes off of his arm, looking at her. She held a comfort in his expression, before she gently touched his gash. Her touch was warm, it made the hairs on the back of his neck stick up. He wasn't entirely used to a woman tending to him with such comfort. Swirls of gold had emitted from her palm, and it wasn't long until the blooded cut had been reduced to nothing but a scar. He had moved his arm, amazed at the healing powers she possessed.

"Wow," he breathed out, flexing his arm. "How did you learn that?"

The Argonian giggled. She herself, had been surrounded by more swirls of gold and in only a second was her bruises and cuts healed in an instant. "I'm Arch-Mage of the college of Winterhold, it is my job to know spells and magic like this. I could teach you to heal yourself, if you would like."

Vidrak had considered it for a moment or two. "That would be nice." He quietly muttered to himself, low enough so the dragon slayer couldn't pick it up. "That's two dragons. What's next?"

Ysara had looked towards the mountain that dwarfed others in Skyrim. "We must make the journey to High Hrothgar. It'll be a long journey, but it'll be worth it. Have you ever climbed the seven thousand steps?"

Vidrak shook his head. "No, I've had no reason to visit the Greybeards."

"The journey has proven to be tedious. We may run into a frost troll or two, but those things are quite annoying." She casually said, sheathing her sword where it was now strapped to her hip. The healing magic had closed up all her cuts and healed her bruises, the only thing that gave evidence there was a scrap is the dirt covered armor that clung to her.

The two had made their way back to Ivarstead, where they were met with an abundance of praise. Pushing their way towards the inn, Vidrak had paid for the two rooms and meals. She had felt a certain type of way, not a bad way; just a useless way. She had her own coin, she's wealthy…to her degree and she is able to afford what she wants and take care of herself. Yet, she hasn't paid for a single thing on the journey with Vidrak who practically threw out septims like they were candy. Food, drinks and essentials had been paid by him, but she would be met with a hand whenever she reached for her pocket to pay. She took a mental note of it to mention it to him later. Her stomach dropped when she was informed that this time, they'd be sharing a room. It had been an unusual busy day at Vilemyr Inn, and thankfully there was one room left for the pair. Vidrak had taken the key Wilhelm had given before he was pulled over by other customers.

Vidrak had guided her to their room, where he had fiddled with the keyhole and opened the door. A worn out wardrobe was the first thing you saw to the left, with a bed the size for two people, and a table full of food. Vidrak paid for all of this?

She set down her sword, letting it lean on the side of the wall before she kicked off her boots, stretching her toes. Vidrak had shrugged out his armor, leaving on a very loose short sleeved tunic that had exposed some of his muscular features. Ysara gulped, letting the sight of the man stretching himself engulf her vision. Just as he turned to look at her, she quickly turned away and delved deep into the bag of excuses.

"I must change into my sleep wear," she affirmed, making it known as the Nord perked up at the statement, before the what she had said got to him. "I need privacy."

"Of course, sorry. There's actually someone in town I need to see, so take the time you need to settle in. I'll be back in an hour." Vidrak disappeared behind the door, letting Ysara gather her thoughts and slip into a thin, loose cotton dress she bought a few years back. She made sure to bring a couple of her sleep dresses with her, as they were the more comfortable clothes to sleep in. She opened her pack, taking out the book she had been reading prior to her and Vidrak's conversation the other night.

Crawling onto the bed, which was surprisingly comfortable; she sat cross crossed and began to dive into the book she was previously reading. The Mirror.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the mead Vidrak purchased with a couple tankards around it. She had quickly scrambled, snatching both the mead and tankard before pouring herself a drink before repositioning herself back on the bed, taking a swing of the mug in her hand.

After a short time, the music had died down. The voices and banter were now replaced with whispers and light sounds. She could hear light talking in the room next to her which had faded some time later. She had continued to drink sips of mead, and read as she could feel the familiarity of the buzz of the drink.

She didn't know how long time passed as she read through the particularly long book. She didn't mind, she loved reading and it passed time. She faintly heard heavy footsteps, before the door opened. Vidrak stepped through with satchel carried around his broad shoulder. He smiled at her with a soft grin, before setting it down. Dragging a chair by the wall sitting from across the bed, he practically swung it around to be much closer to the edge of the bed and next to the Argonian woman.

"So," he started, grabbing a tankard and pouring a drink in it. "Is this how the fabled Dragonborn spends her nights? Confined in a room, with sleepwear on, a book in her hand, and wine in the other?"

She giggled, making him chuckle in response. She grabbed her drink, before shooting a look at him.

"Nothing wrong with a woman lying in a bed with wine after saving Nirn." She replied coldly, with a hint of amusement in her slight accent. He had seemed satisfied at the answer given, as he too wore a small teasing smile.

"Sounds like a fair reason to me." He drank from his cup, and had rolled his neck to the side earning a crack before his expression softened. "Did that drunk hurt you in any way?"

The Argonian scoffed. "Like I'd let a kuuda like him intimidate me."

"Kuuda?" Vidrak questioned.

"It means idiot."

"Imperial bastard..." He sighed. "I saw the whole thing unfold. Not everyday you see a woman knock a man out cold twice her size. They teach you that right hook back home?"

She sighed now, having to relive memories of vigorous hand to hand combat training, close quarters fist fighting and all out street brawling. She poured herself another drink of mead, before sipping it.

"Some of my family enlisted in the An-Xileel. I was trained to be prolific in hand to hand combat and weaponry when I was a little girl." She chuckled at the memories of besting full grown Argonian men in combat, shattering their fragile egos. "But I refused to join them. I didn't want to be a solider. I seen the way they treated people, and I didn't want to be mixed in with a divided homeland."

"Like the Imperials or Stormcloakes?" Vidrak questioned, but the woman made it known he was far from correct.

"The Imperials and Stormcloaks don't nearly match the brutality of the An-Xieel. They don't just train you, but they beat you if you mess up. Hurt you if you don't get a technique down right. Cruel to civilians. There were many times I didn't want to continue training, but I needed to learn how to fight and protect myself. The Hist knows this world is cruel to us Argonian women."

"The An-Xieel…" Vidrak muttered, taking another sip of his drink he recently poured. "Didn't they-"

"Force Dagon to close the gates between them and us?" Ysara finished for him, leaving him speechless. "Yeah, I was trained by that same group. Ruthless bastard you have to be in order to survive as one of them. I didn't like that."

"That's incredible. You must be a fighting genius!" Vidrak exclaimed with enthusiasm, which was not followed by Ysara.

In her mind, it brought up unwanted memories of her being beaten and degraded by soldiers and commanders. The seven years of her training, fighting and learning to kill were very much sensitive and harsh memories that she'd like to stuff down and keep there, so she had quickly found a way to change the subject.

"And you, Sir Vidrak?" She asked.

"What of me?"

"You handled yourself quite well against the dragon, have you fought against them before?" She questioned, criss crossing her legs on the bed. She usually sat like this on beds where she was most comfortable, and didn't have to sleep with her sword next to her.

He shook his head. "No, I've never fought against a dragon. Today was the first." He sipped his mead, before continuing. "I'm not sure whenever my father would be proud, or terrified at the fact that I'm accompanying the Dragonborn."

"Tell me more about your father." She urged, seeing him slightly flinch in surprise at the mention of his father. "If you would be comfortable sharing, of course."

Vidrak nodded solemnly, before he sipped his lead once more before setting the tankard on the ground. "My father wasn't perfect. He had his faults. He was rough on me and my brother, Vallric. But only because he wanted the best for us."

"Sounds like a reasonable parent." Ysara observed.

The handsome Nord brow creases, before his expression made it known he agreed. "He taught me a lot of things. How to kill, hunt, to be cold and brutal, and to be kind and passionate. He raised me and my brother to be better than he ever was. He wasn't always the man I tell you he was."

"Really now?" Ysara propped her head against her hand.

"Pa used to be racist, as he told me. He didn't like races like Argonians, Orcs or Khajiit roaming Skyrim until he met mother. She came from a family of pacifists. Ones who believed equality for everyone, no matter race or gender. She quickly integrated the concept into his brain, and picked up quickly."

He smiled to himself, as if he currently remembering a memory. She could see his himself brighten at the memory he was currently remembering. He continued. "After I was born, my father left the Stormcloaks. He, my mother and I traveled all around Tamriel. Went almost everywhere."

"Such as?"

He thought about it. "I've been all over Tamriel. Even the Summerset Isles. Only place I've never been...well is the Black Marsh."

Ysara let a chuckle out. "Outsiders do not fare well in my homeland."

"Me and Pa set a goal," he said, his gaze had seemed as if he weren't there in the moment with her but as if he was just a little boy with his father. "We had settled in Blackwood, Cyrodiil with my mother. The goal was, we were going to venture through Black Marsh. We'd heard the stories about how it was uninhabitable for non-Argonians. My mother, who just had my brother thought we were insane, and didn't want no parts of our goal, so she stayed behind."

Ysara didn't say anything, she let the man talk. There was a bit of slur in his words indicating that he had been at least a bit drunk, his boyish grin had spread even more as if he was thinking of the another fond memory.

"We didn't make it halfway." He shamefully blurted out, making Ysara burst in laughter. He gave her an amused scowl, before chuckling himself. "But, the whole point was; that even if it seems impossible, or that all the odds are against us. That to never give up, and that nothing is far fetched."

His face had turned from a smile, to a sad small smile. Ysara studied the man, watching the small smile turn into a slight frown as if he was remembering unpleasant thoughts. She could tell the man was still grieving for his late father, although she's only known him a week tops; she's always been really good at being able to read people.

"You feel lost without him." She declared. He didn't have to confirm her assertion, and she knew that. She knows how it feels to be without her parents, even if they weren't dead. They were practically dead in a sense. They fought the last time they spoke, and it was clear that the relationship had been severed between her and them.

The two sat there, silent for moments as they sipped their mead. Ysara had begun to feel the awkwardness in the moment creep up on her, and she had desperately wanted to change the topic. She saw the broken facade he wore on his face crumble before her. He had opened his mouth, before hesitating to say next.

"I just wish I could talk to him and mother again." He muttered shamefully, which Ysara didn't chastise the man for being vulnerable about her. It must've been the drinking, because he didn't seem like the type of man to let his guard down.

She didn't hold it against him, because her guard was let down as well. She wouldn't allow it to get this far with a random man. But Vidrak seemed like…more.

He respected her, cooked for her, bought her food and drinks. He made her comfortable around him, which wasn't easy for a man to do to her. She talked more than she was with him than any other man. Now here that same man was, head hung low with his buzzed gaze staring at the floor. She didn't register the moment in her brain, when she reached her hand over his face and pushed his chin up with her own hand making him look at her.

The two warriors looked at each other, locking eye contact. She could see the mead's influence in his eyes, and how low his eyelids were. He was drunk, no denying it. But...so was she. She didn't realize how vulnerable they had made it each other, sharing their past, and experiences as if they knew each other a lifetime instead of only a few days.

Her hand still caressing his bearded cheek, her thumb slightly rubbing circles. Her finger skimmed over his lips, before it settled back on his chin. She could feel herself lean in, inching closer and closer to his lips.

Before they could make contact, the door swung open with an inn worker carrying a tray of fresh food. A teenage Nord boy, who had just caught them in the act of almost kissing had been staring wide eyed and mourn agape at the two of them. The side of their faces brushing against one another, as they stared as if they were teenagers being caught.

"I-I'm sorry for disturbing," the boy had stammered, he had seemed to overthink the situation, fumbling on his words. "Y-your food is ready." Vidrak had jumped to his seaand retrieved the tray from the boy before slipping a few septims in his hand.

Ysara felt a hint of annoyance and relief. They were having a moment there, and she guarantees that Vidrak isn't as open as he is sober than drunk, that they were confiding in each other. The fate of Skyrim was in her hands again, but this time she had him to share the burden with. The both of them had glaring similarities between them, that Ysara seemed it impossible to not want to know more about the mysterious hand picked solider from Ulfric himself.

Ysara shook it off, grabbing her pack and pulling out a map. She laid the map out on the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles and creases. Retrieving a quill, and ink she always kept on her. She crossed out Riften and Ivarstead, before she studied the map.

That's two. Four to go...

"How many places we have left to stop?" Vidrak asked, passing her a plate of food. She gracefully took it, setting it on the bed to the side of her before focusing back on the map.

"Four," she answered, scanning the map of Skyrim and it's holds. "Riverwood. Falkreath. Markarth, and Morthal." She set the quill aside, before pointing at the Throat of the World. "But we must see the Greybeards at once. Surely, they'll know if Alduin has returned."

Vidrak had chewed through the cooked horker meat before swallowing. Ysara continued to look at the map, before she tiredly sighed and folded it back into just a tiny square. She took the plate from the tray, before chewing into the horker meat that had been still hot.

"What is he planning..." She muttered, not realizing it was loud enough for Vidrak to hear.

"Alduin?"

Just his name was enough to make her stop chewing. No, she would not give into fear. Nodding her head silently, with a death gaze locked into an empty space which had left her staring at the door. She would remember all the mind games Alduin would play on her during their encounters. From him recognizing her from Helgen when her and Delphine traveled to Kynesgrove to fight Sahloknir, to fighting Alduin with Paarthurnax at the Throat of the World.

"Just hearing his name," she muttered, gripping the meat in her hand, almost crushing it. "It brings me great anger."

"We do not have to speak of it." Vidrak assured.

Ysara had shook her head. "No. It is alright. I'd rather face my demons than run from them. It is not how I do things. Although, I'd very much like to rest for the night before we head up to High Hrothgar."

"Yes, of course." Vidrak agreed, before he had helped clean up dinner and take the tray back out to the inn before returning to the room. Ysara had already been lying down in the bed, cover up to her shoulders. She seemed exhausted...

Her eyes were seemingly closed, and it made Vidrak wonder how one could fall asleep so quickly. He spotted an extra cover over on the dresser to the left and had swiped it before softly taking a pillow from the bed. Spreading the cover out on the ground, he put the pillow at the head of the cover and had lied down in his back towards the ceiling. He closed his eyes, as he too felt exhausted from the day.

A moment or two had passed by, before he heard the bed creak, he opened his eyes just in time to see Ysara staring at him from the bed.

"What are you doing, Sir Vidrak?" She asked, looking confused.

Vidrak raised an eyebrow, what had it looked like he been doing? "I was going to sleep."

"Why are you sleeping down there?"

"I thought it was best to let you have the bed for yourself, Dragonborn."

"Nonsense," she sharply spat out towards him, before she motioned towards the bed. "You do not need to sleep on the cold floor for modesty, you can sleep up here; next to me."

Vidrak had left his mouth gaped, before closing it and nodding at once. Ulfric had mentioned to him not to give her a hard time, and to just aid her in what she needs and battles. Ulfric had stood up, kicking off his boots and taking his armor off. He hadn't exactly felt like undressing before sleeping, but if he was sharing a bed with a woman, especially someone like Ysara, he realized that being in armor isn't exactly the brightest idea.

Setting the pillow down, he had slipped under the cover next to Ysara not realizing how close their bodies had been together. He looked over to where Ysara had been closer to the wall, she faced him laying on her side with her face rested on the pillow. Her eyes had been closed, as if she was merely sleeping but he was proven wrong when she opened her eyes.

"Is there a reason you are staring at me while I sleep, Sir Vidrak?" She teased with a smirk.

"I had just happened to be looking. No reason."

She giggled, before she huddled closer to him. Intertwining her legs with his toned ones, and wrapping an arm around his bicep. She let the side of her face rest on his soft muscle, feeling sleep overcome. "Then I hope you don't mind me using some your body head. It is oddly cold in this room."

He could feel her warmth radiating towards him under the cover, her decided to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her closer. For awhile he sat there, listening to her softly snoring. Am I really lying in bed with the Dragonborn?

It was the last thought he had when he finally gave into slumber.