Chapter Text
When Ulfric had seen the executioner at Helgen he thought he would die there. His thoughts were full of contempt that the Imperials wouldn’t even give him a fair trial. No. They would just kill him. He readied himself for his fate. He was no coward.
He smirked beneath his gag as his men cut off the blasphemous last rites of the Priest of Arkay. If the Empire was forsaking Talos in these words, they were of no use to a true Nord or believer. He prayed to Talos as the man went to his journey to Sovngard.
The next victim was a prisoner in rags, who did not even appear to be guilty of any crime. Ulfric vaguely remembered a traveller stumbling into the ambush. Fool had been at the wrong place at the wrong time.
The prisoner had been in the same cart as he had, unconscious from a blow by an Imperial soldier. The prisoner reacted to their fate solemnly. Perhaps not a Nord, but the woman went to her fate with dignity. He sent a prayer for her.
The situation was thrown awry when a dragon appeared. A real life dragon. Talos preserve them. He, his men and the prisoner fled to one of the towers as fire rained on the town.
Escaping Helgen was difficult.
The dragon was persistent in killing them all. A wall’s imminent collapse almost separated him, his remaining soldiers, and the prisoner. It is amazing how familiar the shriek of the dragon became as it kept trying to kill them.
They had to fight Imperials on the way out. Ulfric would have been agreeable in letting them live had they just fled or even fight with them but of course they were difficult to the end even in the face of dragons. Ulfric did not understand that mentality.
Despite having no loyalty to them, the prisoner fought with them. The prisoner was a clumsy fighter, not a solider at all. Ulfric was glad she stuck to their side. If they had to face the dragon it would be a fight needing all available hands.
By the grace of Talos they succeeded in getting out despite its difficulty. A bear was their final obstacle to the wilderness but it was easily snuck past. Ulfric was glad of that. He was already tired from the ambush and escape. It would be a long journey back to Windhelm.
Ralof stopped them from rushing out. Good man. Ulfric thought as the dragon soared away from them. His eyes followed the nightmare until it disappeared from sight.
“Was that really a dragon? I know we saw it with our eyes but Talos. That cannot be right.” Ralof breathed.
“It was right. A dragon of legend. The end times may be upon us.” Ulfric said, feeling tired. His land was at war, now the dragons had returned.
“Jarl Ulfric,” Ralof called his attention. He looked conflicted. “My sister lives in Riverwood.”
“You wish to warn her.”
“Yes,”
“Perhaps you, prisoner, can send word?” One of the two other soldiers who had escaped with them, Vilkur, asked.
“I don’t know where Riverwood is.” The woman replied but looked grim. “However I can go, just give me directions.”
“No.” Ulfric said. “Come with us. You will be hunted by the Imperials that will swarm here soon. Ralof knows the area. He will be safe. Ralof, go. Whiterun is neutral to the war and you should be safe once you cross into its borders.”
“I will see you back at Windhelm.” Ralof bowed and ran despite his exhaustion.
“What about me then?” The woman asked. In her mismatched armor of Imperial and Stormcloak garb she would stand out, draw attention.
“Come with us. We will drop you off at Ivarstead. It is in the Rift, they are loyal to me. You may not be involved in this war but the Imperials will not take your word for it dressed as you are or in our company.”
“Thank you, Jarl Ulfric.” The woman said.
“Do not thank me yet.” Ulfric responded. “I know we are tired but we must head out. Come on. We make camp at nightfall.” They lumbered on, feet and muscles aching. Ulfric felt on alert despite his exhaustion. The dragon could return.
The woman was odd. He thought when he passed her on their march several times. She picked flowers and caught a few butterflies. Supplies for potions, she’d said. His soldiers were more focused on reaching a safe location for a camp and making the most progress while they had daylight.
Despite these small detours to the right or left from the woman, their journey was tense and silent. Any sounds beyond their breathing and light footsteps had them tensing. There was nothing normal about this day.
Eventually nightfall settled and they camped in small clearing in the woods. Ulfric was certain they had at least crossed borders into the Rift but that did not mean Imperials would respect its boundary.
“Breton, what is your name?” Ulfric as the dusk settled and they set up camp. They had captured three rabbits. Thankfully it would not be a bland meal. It felt like he should at least know her name after the woman offered the salt she had picked up on their way out of Helgen. It not that, it was at least worth the offered bottles of mead she’d snatch in her haste at collecting anything shaped like a potion.
“Calia, Jarl.” She answered as she settled against a tree. She grimaced and shifted against it in vain. There would be no easy sleep for anyone without a bedroll to even share.
“What were you doing crossing into Skyrim?” Asger asked.
“Traveling.”
“Just traveling?” Vilkur asked.
“Yes. I work odd jobs to get funds and travel.” A wanderer then. It caused him to dismiss her. She was what she appeared, a person who had unwittingly stumbled upon something beyond them. Ulfric tuned out the conversation as the men and woman talked about their travels. His mind focused on the fact that they saw a dragon.
The black nightmare would haunt his dreams until he went to Sovngard. He wished he could visit the Greybeards in order to get their view on this. If only he had parted on better terms.
It wasn’t long before he started drifting to sleep. He shook it off before glancing at the guards. “We should take shifts sleeping. The earlier we head out the better.”
“Of course my lord.” Vilkur said. The glanced at the Breton. She glanced at them warily.
“Am I being shackled again?”
“No but you are not a soldier.” Ulfric said. “I’m not sure if you would be suited to be considered in our rota.”
“I’m a light sleeper. I’ve camped alone before. I have had to wake up to suspicious noise.” She offered.
“Perhaps.” He glanced at his soldiers. “You two take the first shift. I will take the second. If you can get up you are welcome to join me but I will not treat you as a soldier.” Ulfric was confident in his Thu’um should the Breton turn out to be a thief, an assassin or otherwise what she appeared to be. Calia nodded.
As if to prove his words right, the woman drifted to sleep not long after. He spoke with his two remaining men when the light snore came from her. With their instructions at hand, Ulfric reclined against a tree as well, glad he had a fur covering for cushioning. He slept.
His sleep was deep and seemed over too quickly when a hand shook his shoulder. “Wake up.” Was a whispered order. His eyes snapped open at the unfamiliar voice. He was ready to Shout when he recognized the woman. In the starlight she was hard to make out. She was looking up. He followed her gaze.
“What is it?” He asked.
“Shh. I heard a dragon shriek. I put out the fire.” She whispered so softly he was almost unsure he had heard her words. “It flew over us.”
“Where are the others?” He whispered.
“I don’t know.” She replied. “They were gone when I woke up.” He hoped the were simply conducting a simple patrol and had stopped at the dragon’s cry. He was about to ask something - a question that vanished into the air as he heard the dragon’s cry, similar to the one at Helgen.
Maybe it was the same one.
He held his breath at the flapping of enormous wings and winced as the gales produced by the beating hit them. It was overhead. Would the simplest sound from them doom them?
The dragon roared. It was seeking something. The dragon circled around them again then a little further away. Circling and searching. Ulfric saw a giant shadow hide starlight. Slowly it grew distant enough that he felt safe to move.
He sat up. The woman moved away from him. The small noises made by shifting on the grass felt as loud as thunder.
It felt like hours as the dragon circled and circled before it suddenly yelled “YOL!” An inferno of fire spewed from its mouth, not at them but at something, perhaps someone who had caught its attention. Ulfric prayed it was not his men.
The dragon let out one more column of fire before roaring and flying away. Ulfric spoke after a few minutes. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She replied. “Should we start the fire again?”
“No. We cannot risk the fire catching the dragon’s attention.” Ulfric replied, still softly. A crashing in the woods had them flinching. The woman readied her mace. Ulfric drew his own borrowed sword.
“Jarl Ulfric!” Was an almost shouted cry as two forms broke into the camp.
“Quiet!” He growled. He rose, eyes glancing at the sky. Nothing. “Where were you?”
A deer had distracted his men. He would have Galmar up their training when they arrived at Windhelm. He took a breath. He supposed it had to be understood, the dragon had unsettled them all.
The Breton woman said nothing. Asger simply advised they settle into switching shifts now that they were awake. Ulfric agreed.
Morning came without further dragons. A quick search brought them to a pair of burnt corpses, not man or mer from inspection. Why the dragon had targeted them was a mystery they did not wish to explore so headed onward.
“I am going to gorge myself when we arrive at Ivarstead.” Asger said. “Enjoy some mead in honor of our fallen comrades."
“Their souls have travelled to be with our ancestors. If only we should be so lucky at death.” Vilkur replied. It was mostly empty talk. While Ulfric did plan for them to rest one night at Ivarstead they could not afford to let their guard drop. Not with dragons about.
“What’s the nearest city?” Calia asked. “I’d like to get some work and maybe buy some better armor. I don’t even know how I’ll travel safely in just my normal clothes with dragons of all things about.”
“Riften. Be careful in that city. Any gold you earn is likely to be lost.” Ulfric said.
“It is filled with thieves. The Thieves Guild has its last stronghold there.” Asger warned
“It is also home to the Temple of Mara.” Vilkur offered as if to at least offer a consolation for the city.
“My cousin was married there.” The conversation soon died. There wasn’t much for them to bond over nor would Ulfric discuss business with a civilian around. The woman could not be privy to Stormcloak intel beyond what she already knew. It was a security risk for them both if she learned their route. The Thalmor would skin her alive if it meant getting any information they did not know, even if it was out of date.
They were half a day from Ivarstead when the familiar cry had them scrambling for weapons and looking for shelter. There was none in the clearing they were walking through. A shadow passed over them. Ulfric had to take a breath to center himself and let out a shaky breath.
The dragon appeared again. It was not the black monster from Helgen. It was as completely different dragon, most likely the one from last night.
“Talos! Can we take that thing?” Vilkur called. Fear in his voice
“The Blades hunted dragons! What is to say we cannot!” Asger said in a false bravado. The woman was silent. Eyes solemnly following the dragon as she held her bow and arrow, ready to draw it at a moment’s notice.
“I don’t know but we have no choice.” Ulfric growled. He longed for his war axe that the Imperials had stolen. Divines only knew where it was now. His sword felt light and brittle. How hard were those scales?
The dragon circled them and yelled. “YOL!” They dodged the fire. Ulfric glared and gathered his Thu’um.
“FUS RO DAH!” He yelled. The dragon was thrown off balance, not expecting for any of them to have Voice. The woman didn’t even flinch as her arrow sang through the air at the beast. It pierced its skin. It screamed.
“An arrow hurt it! Do not get near it if you can avoid it! Draw your bows and fire! I will distract it!” Ulfric snarled.
“YOL!” The dragon shouted again as he dodged the flame. Three arrows flew to it. Only two met their mark. How many arrows had they scavenged from the Imperials?
“FUS!” He yelled. The dragon snarled and took to the air. It was not as majestic as before. It struggled to keep up the side where three arrows pierced its side. “Aim for the wings!”
“YOL!” The dodged a column of fire again. A shard of ice flew through the air, missing the dragon. The Breton, Ulfric had no doubt the woman knew some magic, even if rudimentary.
“Krif krin. Pruzah!” The dragon yelled, seeming delighted. Ulfric snarled. His dovahzul was good enough to know the dragon relished this flight.
They fought hard. The dragon taunting them. "I had forgotten what fine sport you mortals can provide!” It sneered before pinning down Asger. Ulfric charged, feeling like he would fail another one of his soldiers. A series of ice lances hit the dragon. It reeled back in surprise.
“FUS RO DAH!” He yelled, seeing his moment. The shout threw the dragon back enough for Asger to scramble back on what looked like an injured leg. “No!” He yelled as the Breton charged forward. Her mace struck the dragon’s chin with a sickening crunch. A wing snapped out and slammed her away. She screamed but did not fall.
“FUS!” He yelled again, feeling his energy draining. He had not shouted so much in so long, since the War. Even then it had not helped him.
"Thuri du hin sil ko Sovngarde!” It struggled to say. With a yell Ulfric charged forward as an arrow from his other man tore through a wing of the dragon. It could not fly now. To his amazement the Breton joined him.
It aimed claws and tail at them but that was easier to dodge than a column of fire or maw. Then two blows made by him and Vilkur to the back legs had it hobbling. To his surprise the Breton woman circled back to its head, bringing down her mace onto its head. Ulfric did not wait to see if this killed the creature, instead aiming his sword at its neck.
The gurgle it made had them draw back. The dragon tried to crawl away, unsteady and fight gone. It was a mess of a thing. He hoped they had defeated the first dragon in centuries.
It struggled to remain upright before falling to its side. As it breathed its last breath it seemed to realize something by the look on its face because gave an intelligible protest. All Ulfric understood was “Dovah”.
Then it died.
They stood in stunned silence. Ulfric not able to believe they fought a dragon. It felt like a hallow victory. He was about to ask if his men were okay when the dragon began to crackle.
To his amazement the dragon evaporated into ash then light. The light flowed to Calia. She looked stunned as the light engulfed her.
Ulfric now knew what the dragon had been trying to scream before it died. It was not Dovah. It was Dovahkiin.
“What happened?” Calia asked, fear in her voice. Ulfric was torn between laughing in relief and incredulity.
The end of the world was upon them. The savior of it was in front of him but completely ignorant of the fact. Yet the fact that she was with him made his faith in Talos all that much stronger.
Come what may come, losing or victory, Ulfric believed there was a reason she was with them just then. Now to explain the Thu’um to someone it should come to naturally.
“You are Dragonborn, Dovahkiin.” Ulfric said.
“Dragon-what?”
“You have the soul of a dragon, just like Talos.” Asger said. He was awed, even as his leg was clearly injured.
“I don’t understand.” Yet offered the man one of her potions in her confusion.
“You will. You two, gather the bones and scales from the dragon. We will need proof of its existence. The Dovahkiin and I will not be stopping at Ivarstead. We will be heading to High Hrothgar to visit the Greybeards.”
“Where?”
“The ones who taught me the Way of the Voice.” Ulfric started and began to talk.