Mal Keyye Ko Keizaal

by Dragon Dreaming

Rating: teen
Tags: Gore, Crossover, Dark, Alternate Universe, Human, Main 6, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Adventure
Length: 53317

Dragons wreak havoc in the midst of civil war, and six voices rise to calm the chaos.

The Empire lies broken and diminished, struggling under the heavy yoke of the supremacist Thalmor. The northern province of Skyrim, from whence the founders of the Empire hail, is torn by civil war, as brother fights brother and the Thalmor watch with glee. In these times of chaos, a forgotten threat returns, bearing with it the promise of the end of all things. The world is irrevocably doomed. Sort of.

Published 2012-03-06 00:34:02 UTC
Last updated 2016-07-11 01:02:07 UTC

Prologue

Standard disclaimer: All characters and settings within this document are the intellectual property of Hasbro, Inc., Studio B, or Bethesda. We, the authors of this story, make no claim to them and the only profit we make from this is the practice it gives us and the enjoyment we find in the creation.

Authors’ note: This story was written by A Dragon Dreaming (adragondreaming@gmail.com) and The Less Anonymous Top Hat (tlath@hotmail.com, tlatophat.tumblr.com). Feel free to send comments, criticisms, tell us how awesome/horrible/insane we are for doing this, or just general chatter to us. We thrive on audience, and feedback is our fuel. Enjoy the read!

First, the centerpiece. Awaken.

Her eyes fluttered open. There wasn’t a lot to see, though; just an endless expanse of white. No walls, no trees, no ceiling. She staggered to her hooves, trying to shake the fog from her head, and looked around, breathing heavily. Well, there was air, at least. And a floor, because she was standing on it, even if she couldn’t see it. She closed her eyes. This was making her dizzy. “W-what’s goin’ on?” she asked, her voice slurring.

You have just been created.

She frowned. That … that just made no sense at all. She was a grown mare, not a filly. And where had that voice come from? “What? What does that mean?”

Don’t ask too many questions, now. We would get bogged down in exposition, which would be terribly boring.

Exposition? What in all the heavens did it mean by that? She shook her head again. There was a more important question on her mind. “Where’s everybody else?”

They are well. You will all be well. And together, never fear. It is, however, time to cut this short. There are changes to be made, now that I know you are you.

“Changes?” She didn’t much like the sound of that. “What changes?”

You don’t quite fit, as you are, in your new home. Don’t worry, you won’t feel a thing. Or even notice the difference.

“New home? What-” She paused. She had been about to ask something. What was it? Did it really matter? Probably not, now she thought about it. Or didn’t think about it. What was the question?

Sleep, my little pony. You have adventures awaiting you. And friends, old and new.

She lay down once again, slumber overtaking her, as the white turned to grey, and then black.

This should prove most entertaining.

Chapter 1 - It Dawns in Fire

The cow came at her call – a particular whistle she’d taught her, that meant nuzzles and food. The hairy bovine nudged at the hand that held the sweet oats, and she cooed and patted her face. It was soothing, this, the warmth of the animal and the feel of her fur, and she needed it.

The cow lipped at her blonde braids, and AJ gave her a light smack on the face, drawing a snort. “Now, you know better’n that. Hair ain’t food, Bea.” The cow nudged her in the chest in response, and she laughed, giving scratches in return, a smile on her face. Still, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling of unease. Maybe it was because she was at loose ends; with her brother back from the legion, there was a lot less she had to do around the farm, meaning she suddenly had all this free time she wasn’t used to.

Maybe she could go see if Uncle needed any help. It had been a while since she’d turned her hand to the forge … but right, he was apprenticing his daughter now. Still, maybe she could stop by, see if he’d let her teach Dorthe a couple things. She nodded, and gave Bea another pat, sending her off to do cow things before vaulting the fence and heading for Alvor’s forge.

But as she hit the path, the unease grew. Today just did not feel right, not right at all. She shook her head, to try and clear it, and her eyes widened. A shadow had just passed over her, vaguely birdlike, but bigger than anything she’d ever seen, and moving faster, too. She looked up, whirling around to try and catch sight of whatever it might have been, and caught a brief glimpse of something huge and black, before it disappeared into the mountain mists. “What in tarnation was that?”

She turned at the sound of her name, and caught sight of her sister running up. “Apple Bloom! What’s got you in such a tizzy?”

“Up there, sis! Cain’t you see it?”

She looked up, following her sister’s pointing finger, and her jaw went slack. There was a great big ol’ cloud of smoke coming up from the mountainside. That direction could only be … “Horsefeathers,” she breathed. “Helgen.” If that town had been sacked, then Riverwood could well be next. They had no soldiers here, and many called the Cloaks kin, but you never knew with war. “Sugarcube, go an’ find Big Mac, an’ then stay with Granny.”

The girl’s face fell. “But sis!”

“No buts, Bloom. This here is serious. You tell Big Mac to get his armor out, you hear? Now go!” Apple Bloom gulped, nodded, and ran, heading for the farm lickety-split. AJ went straight on toward Alvor’s, running now, that feeling of unease just about tripled. She had kin at Helgen; cousin Hadvar. Was he alive? Just what had happened?

Alvor was in the forge area when she found him, leaning on one of the posts, eyes locked on the smoke. He nodded to her as she ran up, expression troubled. “You seen it too, then.”

“Hard to miss, Uncle. Gerdur know about it yet?”

He shrugged. “If she doesn’t, she will soon.”

There was little more to be said. She just stood beside him, looking up the road that ran to Helgen, and listening to old Hilde ramble on to her son about seeing a dragon. Silly, really, dragons didn’t exi- wait. What had she seen, then, that thing all black and huge way up in the sky? She frowned, and shuddered. Dragon. It couldn’t be. Could it?

“Niece. Someone comes.” Her uncle’s words shook her out of it, and she peered up the road to Helgen. Sure enough, there was someone coming down it, though at this distance she couldn’t make out any details. She turned to her uncle’s workbench, then, and grabbed one of the maces he had out, fastening its accompanying belt around her waist. He raised a brow at her, but made no comment. These were dangerous times, after all.

Her face grim, AJ stepped out to meet the stranger, standing as tall as she could and keeping one hand close to the mace. The woman, for woman she had to be, with that build, was running, and probably had been all the way from Helgen. She wasn’t wearing the blue of the Stormcloaks, but she was certainly armored, and there were weapons at her hips. Legion, then? No, her armor lacked the distinctive skirt.

Before long, the woman was facing her, panting to catch her breath. AJ gave her one good look, took in the soot, the ragged state of her leathers, and her clear exhaustion, and decided that, whoever she was, she wasn’t a threat to Riverwood. “Good gravy, girl. You look like hell.”

The woman chuckled, and coughed. “I feel like it, too,” she rasped, voice hoarse, likely from the smoke and the running. AJ, shaking her head, took her by the arm and led her back to the forge’s porch, sitting her down. “Could you get us some cider, uncle?” The blacksmith nodded, and left, leaving the two women alone on the porch.

“Hey, what are you doing?” the newcomer said, irritated.

“I’m checking the damage, now hush,” replied AJ, hands moving the woman’s soot-blackened hair around to check for burns and the like. “We don’t have a healer in town, but Camilla at the Trader knows her a touch of alchemy. She could probably make you a salve for any burns you got.”

“Pft, I’m fine. It takes more’n a little fire to get the best of Rainbow Dash.”

AJ arched an eyebrow, letting go of the woman’s hair. “That’s your name, then?”

“The one and only! How about you, oh kind stranger?”

“M’name’s Applejack,” she said, “and this here’s my Uncle Alvor. Thanks, unc.” He nodded, handing her one of the three tankards in his hand, and the other to Rainbow, who gulped it down with enthusiasm. Interesting name, but there were stranger out there.

They waited a bit, Alvor and his niece sipping at their cider, allowing Rainbow to slake her thirst. “Thanks! Man, but I was parched!”

“Smoke’ll do that ya. You came from Helgen, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Mind tellin’ us what happened up there?”

Rainbow fell silent, her face pensive, troubled. “Yeah alright. But no interruptions, okay? It’s a bit of a story.”

“No interruptions, then.”

-oOo-

"There was a time the folks in Cyrodiil said I had Nocturnal's own luck. The dice fell in my favor; the cards were dealt just right; my opponents would make that fatal misstep at just the right moment. I was a legend in my own right. Well... until my luck went sour. But, you don't really want to hear about that."

The icy wind crept up under Dash's tunic, sending a chill up her spine. Reflexively, she hugged herself a little tighter, rubbing her exposed arms. The others riding in the rickety cart didn't seem to notice the wind, but all eyes were on her. Admittedly, she did stand out; flame-red hair, deep violet eyes, a blue short-sleeved tunic with yellow borders protruding beneath her leather vest, not to mention the rainbow-dyed bandanna that hung around her neck. She wasn't exactly blending in with the dull blues and browns the others wore.

The one who had asked the question grunted, a large dirty blond fellow. His Nord accent was thick. "So you left Cyrodiil for Skyrim. I see it did little to improve your luck."

"I know! I hate losing." She grouched, a slight pout to her lower lip. Dash took stock of the uniformed men and women around her. "So who are you guys, anyway?" She asked, looking around. "That's not Legion armor. You some kinda militia or something?"

"We are Stormcloaks," the woman to her right said, as if that explained everything. Dash just gave her an empty stare until she continued. "We fight for Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak and for all true Nords."

"Jarl who?"

"Jarl Ulfric. He's in the cart behind us; the only one who's gagged." Rainbow leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the man they spoke of.

"So... why is he the only one gagged?"

"He has the Voice! He Shouted High King Torygg to death with his Thu'um," one of the younger men explained enthusiastically. "The Imperials don't dare let him speak because of it." A man who could kill with his voice? Dash liked the sound of that, but the only gagged man in the cart behind them didn't look all that impressive, hunched over as he was. The snow in the air was making it difficult to see much more than that.

"So is that why the Legion after you? Because he killed the King?"

"There's much more to it than that, but that’s reason enough for them." The burly man agreed. Rainbow shrugged. "But why did they arrest you? Are you some kind of fugitive?"

"Hell no! I just think I got nabbed in the confusion. Once they find out who I am, I'm sure they'll let me go." The Stormcloaks didn't seem convinced. By this point in time, the wagon was rolling up to the walled town of Helgen, or so one of the Stormcloaks called it. Soon the wagons were lined up and the prisoners were told to dismount. Dash followed suit, if reluctantly. It was then that she saw it; a lone block of grooved stone, and behind it, a large hooded man leaning on a large, jagged axe. This was an execution. Dash swallowed hard.

"As I call your names, move over there and stand by," said one of the legionnaires, pointing to a spot close to the headsman. He then looked down at piece of paper in his hands. "Bjornskar of Whiterun." The burly man simply turned and walked towards the block. "Gretta of Kynesgrove." The woman spat at the soldier's feet before she followed suit. At that moment there was a commotion to Dash's right. A man dressed in rags bolted for the hills as fast as his legs could carry him, but he was not faster than Imperial bows. With a command from the captain, bowstrings sang and the fleeing figure dropped like a sack of wheat, several arrows in his back.

"Anyone else feel like running!?" the captain asked, eyeing the remaining prisoners with her hands on her hips. Dash shook her head. The stupid man. He was nowhere near fast enough to escape. Hell, even she wasn't. She was fast, but she couldn't outrun an arrow. As if reacting to her thoughts, the Legion captain looked right at her. Immediately, she walked over to the list reader and a hushed conversation ensued, together with many furtive glances in Dash's direction.

"You there!" the soldier with the list said, pointing his quill at her. "Who are you?" Rainbow straightened up, pointing a thumb at herself.

"I'm Rainbow Dash! Fastest hands in all of Cyrodiil, bar none," she boasted proudly. The legionnaire turned to the Captain with a question, and the Captain disappeared for a moment into the nearby guard tower, returning with a piece of paper which she handed to the man. After looking the paper over, the soldier smirked and looked up at Dash.

"Ah. I thought you looked familiar. Well you should know, Miss Rainbow Dash, that the Legion has a warrant out for your arrest."

"WHAT!?" Rainbow's jaw dropped. "Why!? I haven't done anything!"

"That's not what the warrant says." He proceeded to read from the warrant itself. "Wanted: Rainbow Dash; Renegade. Charged with the following crimes: Embezzlement, Fraud, five counts of Unarmed Assault, two counts of Resisting Arrest, one count of Public Intoxication..."

"Oh yeah. Forgot about that night." Rainbow grimaced.

"Three counts of Assault on a Law Officer..."

"Wait, I never-"

"And here's the clincher." The guard grinned rather maliciously. "Murder of a Legion Officer in the first degree." If it was possible for Dash's jaw to drop any further, it would have. She had never murdered anyone in her life! Sure, she was a duelist and most of her duels were to the death, but duels were legally sanctioned, and were always witnessed by at least three citizens and a local lawman. All very official.

"I killed Captain Matius in a legal duel! It was witnessed! I saw the signatures myself!"

"According to records, the town guard never reported a duel. Unless you happen to have the names of the witnesses..." Dash growled. Of course she couldn't remember their names. That was months ago. "I thought not." The legionnaire laughed. "Don't worry. Your headless corpse will get shipped back to Bravil, murderer."

That was the last straw. With a shout, Rainbow bum-rushed the guard, ploughing into him with her shoulder. The soldier went sprawling, quill and parchment scattering. She was immediately seized by several nearby guards and forced roughly to the ground, kicking and bucking the whole way. The soldier stood and brushed himself off. "Make that four counts of assault on a law officer," he stated coldly, rubbing his bruised chest. "Take her over to the block and keep a tight rein on her." Dash was roughly hauled to her feet and pushed to where the other prisoners were, standing in a semi-circle around the executioner.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his King and usurp his throne." There stood the infamous Jarl, a whole head taller than the man speaking. The ornately armored officer didn't seem to notice the difference in stature. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace!" In that moment, a harsh, guttural cry echoed down the valley. Guards and prisoners alike looked around nervously, unsure of what the sound was. The grey-haired officer dismissed it off-hand. "It's nothing. Carry on."

"Yes, General Tullius," the Captain replied, snapping a smart salute. She turned to the robed priestess who now stood to one side of the executioner. "Give them their last rites," she commanded, stepping aside to let the priestess take charge. Dash gave one last try at breaking free, but her guards just held her arms tighter. So much for that.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the eight divines upon you," the priestess began, only to be interrupted by one of the Stormcloaks.

"For the love of Talos, shut up and lets get this over with," he said, advancing on the priestess. She stepped back from him with a venomous glare.

"As you wish."

"Come on, I haven't got all morning!" he said to the executioner as he boldly faced the block. The executioner shrugged at the Captain, who moved up behind the man to force him down to his knees. "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" the Stormcloak asked as his head was laid on the block. The only response he received was the sickening sound of metal tearing through flesh, sinew, and bone. Even Rainbow felt her stomach flip-flop at the sound. The execution brought out mixed reactions. Cries of anger from the Stormcloaks clashed with cheers from some of the soldiers and townsfolk.

"As fearless in death as he was in life," a voice said somberly.

"Next, the Renegade from Cyrodiil!" the Captain called, pointing directly at Rainbow. Again, that eerie animalistic roar echoed into the town, this time louder and much closer. The soldiers shifted uneasily. "I said, next prisoner." she reiterated. Roughly, Rainbow was pushed towards the block by the guards flanking her.

"I'm not a renegade! You bunch of puffed-up bullies! I swear I will haunt your faces! The ghost of Rainbow Dash will haunt you until the day you die!" she shouted, struggling to the best of her abilities, but it did little. She was roughly thrown onto the block and a heavy metal boot was planted in the center of her back. Dash blew out a puff of air to get the hair out of her eyes. She wanted to stare down the executioner. What she saw instead was the largest beast she had ever seen in her life land on top of the tower beyond. Chaos erupted.

Fire fell from the sky like rain, shattering stone and bone wherever it hit. Rainbow struggled to her feet, her guards having more important things to deal with than a criminal. One of the Stormcloaks waved at her from the door into the local fort. She didn't need a second invitation. She ran for the door, dodging fire and panicking guards as she went. Once safe inside, she leaned against the cool stone, breathing hard. "You alright there, lass?" the Stormcloak asked.

"I'm fine! It'll take more'n a bit of fire to take down Rainbow Dash," she said between breaths. She looked down at her hands. "Mind getting these cuffs off? It's kind of hard to do much with my hands like this."

"Sure thing." He said, pulling out a knife and slicing the ties that held the leather bond in place. Rainbow shook her hands free and rubbed them gratefully. "Name's Ralof. We should probably get moving." He ran over to a fallen Stormcloak and picked up a pair of axes. "Here," he said holding out one of them to her. Rainbow took it awkwardly. She had never swung an axe in her life. "Just in case," Ralof explained. "Follow me. There should be a way out under the fort." So saying, he headed off down one of the passages.

"You know where you're going?" Rainbow asked, pulling her rainbow colored bandanna up to hold her hair in place as they went down corridor after corridor.

"No idea. I just know we should head down."

"Great." Rainbow grumbled. As they rounded a corner into one of the fort's pantries, they blundered right into a pair of legionnaires. Both parties froze, unsure what to do.

"Stormcloaks! Kill them!" one of the legionnaires shouted, drawing his blade. Ralof responded in kind, his axe whistling as he swung it. The other soldier turned his attention on Dash. She held her weapon awkwardly in both hands as he advanced. He brought his blade up and sent it sailing down at Rainbow's head. She raised the axe to meet it.

The sharp clang of steel-on-steel rang in the small cellar as the combatants battled. Dash's lack of skill with the axe was showing. She was giving ground fast, barely managing to deflect the sword strikes from her opponent. She misjudged a block, the sword carving a gash across her left cheek as punishment. The soldier grinned wickedly and pulled his sword back to strike again, only to have his hand lopped off from behind. Ralof was there, panting heavily from his own fight. He was quick to finish the job, burying his axe in the stunned man's neck.

"Not very good with a weapon, I see," Ralof commented, looking Rainbow over.

"No! I'm plenty good with weapons ... just not ... this weapon," she said, giving the axe a loathsome sneer. "Too heavy." She spotted a dagger on the dead legionnaire's belt. Grinning, she dropped the axe and undid the belt, strapping it around her waist. Drawing the iron dagger, she weighed it in her hand. "Ugh. Horribly balanced." She ran a finger over the edge. "And blunt, but it'll have to do for now. Did the other guy have one as well?" Ralof nodded. "Perfect." She looted the matching dagger from the other soldier, attaching the sheath to her belt on the opposite hip. "Let's get out of here."

"You’re bleeding," Ralof said, pointing at her cheek. Dash self-consciously rubbed her cheek with the back of her hand, leaving a smear of blood and dirt across both hand and cheek.

"It's just a scratch. Let's just get going!" she insisted. The two continued deeper into the fort. They threw open the final door, and found themselves back outside. They were near the gate of the town, survivors running out of the town as fast as they could. The great beast landed in the street behind them.

Dash froze in fear for the first time in her life. The black winged beast was looking directly at her, and its eyes were not the eyes of a dumb animal. It was aware, intelligent, and it was smiling. It enjoyed what it was doing. Rainbow had never felt this kind of fear before. She couldn't move. The beast took in a deep breath, then let out a deafening shout. A gout of fire erupted from its maw. At the last second, Ralof yanked Rainbow back inside the door. The heat was scorching even at this distance. Rainbow felt her exposed skin burning just from being in proximity. When the heat subsided, Dash did the most idiotic thing in her life. She broke away from the Ralof's grip and ran out into the street, past the charred corpses of the dead, and out the town gates. Behind her she heard the beast laughing.

"RUN! RUN LITTLE MORTALS! RUN AND TELL THE DOVAHKIIN THAT HIS DAYS ARE NUMBERED! I WANT HIM TO KNOW I COME FOR HIM. I WANT HIM TO QUAIL IN FEAR OF MY VOICE! THE DOVAH RETURN! OUR VOICES WILL SUNDER THE HEAVENS!"

Rainbow Dash just ran.

-oOo-

“And that’s how I got here.” Rainbow Dash finished, taking another drink of cider. She took a moment to brush a stray lock of red hair out of her face, her bandanna now resting around her neck. “Not exactly my proudest moment.” She said, slouching a bit in shame.

Applejack just sat there in silence, her mind (and stomach) churning. That had definitely been a story. Ulfric captured, and sent to execution for his crimes, and as this girl’s head is readied for he block, a dragon from nowhere. A dragon. What in the name of the Nine was happening?

She heard a snort from behind her, and both of them looked up at her uncle. “You must be touched in the head, girl,” he said, looking at Rainbow through narrowed eyes. “There are no dragons. Did you hit your head when you ran in the chaos?”

Rainbow was on her feet in an instant, eyes smoldering and hands on the hilts of her daggers. “Hey! First, I never said it was a dragon, and second, I know what I saw! You weren’t even there, you don’t get to call me crazy!”

“Uncle, t’ain’t no call to go questionin’ her story. Plenty of things in this world we don’t know about after all.” He snorted again, but, taking another look the girl, at the marks on her face and the damage to her leathers, his face softened.

“Sorry, miss. Just, I know the old stories, and what you say you saw could only be a dragon. And they don’t exist.”

“Yeah, well, that one did,” she said, her tone still belligerent, though she had released her grip on her daggers.

“Actually, I think I saw it, too.”

“What?” They were both looking at AJ, now, alike in their surprise.

“Well, somethin’ like it. Big, black, and flying, and gone before I could get a good glimpse of it,” she said, gesturing toward the mountains that separated Riverwood from Whiterun. “It disappeared off yonder. Hulda saw it too, heard her telling her boy about it just as you were comin’ up the path. And Helgen …” she frowned, and shook her head. “I’d say we take it seriously. You know if there were any others made it out?”

Rainbow shook her head, rubbing her arms. “I kind of just ran. Really fast. I mean I’m not saying there aren’t, I just don’t know, you know?”

AJ nodded. “I understand. Come on, you need a wash and probably could use a bed. There’s a couple spare places to crash at our farm, and won’t nobody ask questions, I’ll see to that.”

Rainbow blinked, then followed, as AJ had already set out. “Wow. Thanks. I mean, usually people are all ‘find your own dang place,’ so really, thanks.”

AJ snorted. “The Apple family remembers how to be good neighbors, even if everyone else has forgotten.”

-oOo-

“Rainbow.” She grumbled, shifting on her bedroll. “Rainbow. Wake up.” She grumbled again, burrowing deeper into the furs. “Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash.”

“What!?” she yelled, throwing the furs off onto the offending voice. “I’m trying to sleep!”

“AJ said for to wake you up, Rainbow Dash,” came the muffled reply. Her eyes focused, and she blinked. Oh. Apple Bloom. Oh.

“Uh … right. I’m up. I’m up,” she said, pulling the furs off the girl and giving her a tired smile. Apple Bloom beamed one right back at her, and bounced off. Rainbow shook her head. “Cute kid.”

She dragged herself up out of bed, briefly running a wooden comb through her hair to get the snarls out, and dressed herself. Breakfast was a bit of bread with some cheese, which was actually somewhat more substantial than she’d been used to in recent days. “Right,” she said, facing the door and shouldering her new bow. “Honest work. It’s been a while.”

She’d forgotten how much honest work sucked. Two hours out in the woods with a grumpy wood elf, creeping through underbrush and around trees, looking for something to hunt. For all they’d found, the game seemed to have decided to just stay home sick or something. Or, well, for all she’d found. Faendal was probably having better luck, since he was an elf. A wood elf. They were … woodsy.

Wait. There! A deer. Beautiful specimen, too - tall and big and very nice antlers and wonderfully oblivious to her presence. She crept forward, channeling every sneaky skill she’d learned on the streets of Cyrodiil. Hopefully they applied out here, too; so far, it seemed the answer was yes. She was in a good position, now, with a clear shot. Nothing in the way. Alright. This was it.

She nocked an arrow, drew back the bow, and lost control of the string. The arrow flew through the air, straight and true, and thunked into the ground some twenty feet short of the deer. “Gods … dammit!” she yelled, shaking her hand. Sure, she was wearing bracers, but the string slapping into her wrist still stung like a bitch. And, of course, there went the deer. Wonderful.

Okay. It hadn’t gone far. And she was still upwind. “Alright, Rainbow. You can do this.” She nocked an arrow, drew back, making extra sure of her grip this time, and took aim. “Here we go.” She released. The arrow flew through the air like an angry hornet, sailing straight, true, and right over the deer’s back by at least a foot. And once again, the deer was gone. She slapped a hand to her forehead. “Great. Just … great.”

Okay, this deer was stupid. It had gone, what, ten yards? Twenty? Whatever. It was determined to let her shoot it, and shoot it she would. “This time. Not gonna miss.” She nocked her third arrow, narrowed her eyes, and drew the bow, trying to remember what her instructor had taught her. Breathe out. Right. She aimed, and fired. The arrow’s feathers kissed the deer’s cheek, and it buried itself deep into a tree trunk. “NO!”

“So.” She ignored him. “Are you going to sulk, or are you going to help me skin the deer?”

“Grmph,” she said, but got out her skinning knife and turned to the task at hand. Stupid elf. Where did he get off being so darned good with a bow? It must have been just blind luck. Yeah. Pure luck that he’d taken down the deer with a single arrow, when she’d missed like, five different times. Luck. Yeah.

“When was the last time you held a bow?” She scowled at him. He just raised an eyebrow. Stupid elves and their stupid poker faces. Her brow furrowed. How long had it been since she’d held a bow?

“Two ... no, it’s been longer than that. And there was that year in Anvil,” she muttered, casting her mind back, trying to remember. “Maybe in Skingrad … no, wait, I got out of that one. Huh.” Really? Had it really been since …? “Uh, I’m thinkin’ … six years?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t touched a bow in six years? Hm. You did better than I would have expected.”

She blinked. “What, really? Wait, you were watching?”

“Yes. Take some time to practice, and I would wager that you will bring down a kill on the morrow.”

-oOo-

“Apple Bloom! Get down from there!”

The girl looked up. Well, actually, down, but she was hanging upside down from a tree, so everything was topsy turvy. She blinked a couple times, taking stock of the situation. Her sister had her hands on her hips and her eyes were narrowed, but she wasn’t quite frowning. Okay. “Why?”

“Because you’ll fall and break your neck!”

Oh, it was that one again. “No I won’t!”

“Don’t you argue with me!”

“But I won’t! See, watch!” she said, and demonstrated by skillfully flipping herself back upright onto the branch. “Besides, sis, I can get the apples better from up here! Well, when its time, I mean.”

“Apple Bloom.” Uh oh. Now she was frowning. “Down. Now.”

The girl sighed, and jumped the branch, landing with a roll. She dusted herself off from the landing, looked up, and cringed. AJ’s face was thunderous. “Uh … sis?”

“You … I meant for you to climb down, not jump!”

“But you said now!”

Applejack slapped her palm to her forehead, brow furrowed and eyes closed. “Apple Bloom, that didn’t mean … oh forget it. Just … go play. And not in trees.”

Apple Bloom sighed. “Okay,” she said, and ran off, trying to think of what else to do. She did not see her sister bang her head against the tree, nor hear her supplication to the Nine.

-oOo-

Rainbow breathed, long and slow, steadying herself. Eyes narrowed, she peered at the target in the distance. The crude sketch of a legionnaire’s helmet, rendered on white bark with black charcoal, glared back at her. Not that it had eyes. She nocked an arrow, drew, aimed, and fired. The arrow hit the tree dead center, tail quivering from the force of impact. Rainbow groaned in frustration. “Too high! Again!”

She shook her head. “Calm down. Calm down. You can do this. You just need to focus. Like in a duel.” One more time. Breathe in with the draw, and out with the release. In with the draw, out with the release. “Alright.” She nocked another arrow, drew, and fired. She grunted. “Too low. I guess that’s better than too high.” She would at least still hit something.

“One more time.” She readied her third arrow, aiming just a touch higher than last time, and released. She squinted a bit, then grunted. “Off to the side a bit. Still, that would’ve got his eye. Acceptable, I guess.”

“Wow, you’re good!” She almost dropped her bow, her free hand halfway to her dagger’s hilt before she stopped herself. Slowly, she completed her turn, dropping her gaze down to the little girl who had nearly startled her into something horrible.

“Kid?”

“Yeah?” said Apple Bloom, grinning up at her.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Apple Bloom frowned, her face puzzled. “But I wasn’t sneaking.”

Ugh. Kids. “Look, just, uh … walk louder. Or something.” She turned back to the trees, narrowing her eyes at the target. Could she do it aga- wait. “So you think I’m good?”

“Yeah! I mean, you hit the tree all three times!”

She blinked, looking sideways at where the little strawberry blonde was standing. “What, that doesn’t usually happen?”

“Nope,” the girl said, shaking her head. “Usually everyone goes wide a couple times first. Well, except for Faendal, but Applejack says that’s ‘cause he practices all the time. Frodnar says it’s just ‘cause he’s an elf, but then he also says that beestings don’t hurt, so what does he know?”

Rainbow blinked. “Frodnar?”

“Hod and Gerdur’s kid. He likes pranks,” she said, her eyes now on Rainbow’s dagger. “He doesn’t prank me anymore though.”

“No? Why not?”

“’Cause the last time he tried it, I pushed him in the mud and sat on him until he said sorry.”

Rainbow snickered. “Nice one.”

“I also told him I’d break his nose next time he tried anything.” She was looking really closely at her daggers, now. “So are you, like, a soldier or something?”

Rainbow snorted. “Never in a hundred years, kid. Way too many rules.”

“So what’re those for?” she asked, pointing at the daggers.

“Well, kid, I’m a du-“ Wait. She’d gotten in trouble for things like this before. And right now, she had good food and a roof over her head. “Uh … traveler. I kind of wander around. Yeah.”

If Apple Bloom had caught her slip-up, the girl wasn’t showing it. Instead, she was all big eyes and excited grin. “Really? Where’ve you been? Have you been to Solitude? Or Whiterun?”

“Uh, no. I only got to Skyrim a few days ago. But I have been all over Cyrodiil.”

The girl gasped. “Really? Have you been to the Imperial City?”

Rainbow chuckled. “Yep.”

“What’s it like?”

“Well …”

-oOo-

Applejack gave Apple Bloom an affectionate pat on the head as the girl ran into the house, chuckling. “She weren’t too much a bother, I hope.”

“Nah,” said Rainbow. “It was kind of fun telling her about all the places I’ve been.”

“Oh?” She noticed that Applejack’s eyebrows were rather expressive.

“Yep! I told her all about how to find the best gambling dens, and where to go if you ever need to hide for whatever reason, and I also told her aaaaall about Madam Rosa’s in the Imperial City.”

Oh yes. Very expressive. Right now they were just about trying to fly off her face. She snickered, and punched the Nord in the arm. “Joking. I ain’t stupid. Nah, I told her about the White-Gold tower and the Legion parade marches and stuff like that.”

AJ did not look particularly amused. “Oh, come on, lighten up. Just a joke. I know better than to tell other people’s kids about my kind of life! She’s your daughter.” She snickered again, calling up that image of the girl holding some idiot boy down in the mud. “She’s fun enough as she is.”

Applejack managed to recover in time to put a hand on Rainbow’s shoulder before the woman went into the house. “Wait, Rainbow. Did you just … did you just say she’s my daughter?”

Rainbow looked at her, confused. “Uh, yeah.” Her confusion slowly gave way to horror. “Wait. Wait. She isn’t?”

Applejack shook her head. “No. She’s my sister.”

Rainbow gulped. “So, then, Big Macintosh …”

“He’s my brother.”

The red head’s cheeks flushed to match her hair, and she bit her lip. “Okay, wow. This is all kinds of awkward. Um. You … uh … go ahead. I’m just gonna go dunk my head in the river.” She sidestepped, and started walking away, very quickly. Applejack stared after her for a while, her face blank, then turned and entered the house. Once inside, she buried her face in her hands.

“Oh, Mara! She thought … pffft hahahaha!”

-oOo-

The town had gathered. The Sleeping Giant Inn offered its spacious common room, as usual, the tables stacked away and the benches set in a ring around the central firepit, offering a makeshift auditorium for whoever was speaking. The elders of the town had taken their customary seats, while the others stood behind them. All voices were hushed, and all eyes were on the woman standing inside the ring. They were waiting for her to speak.

Gerdur cleared her throat. “Two days ago, Helgen was sacked.” A murmur rippled through the crowd, but for the most part, they remained silent. Everyone had seen the smoke. “Since then, we have all seen the ... creature, in the distance.” Again, there were murmurs, louder, and more of them. One of the men towards the middle of the circle, the local bard, spoke up, his burly arms crossed.

“Call it what it is, Gerdur! That is a dragon!”

The crowd exploded, shouts going back and forth between friends and neighbors, denials and accusations of blindness flying through the air. Gerdur stamped her foot, and shouted for quiet, but the yells of the others drowned her out.

One of the elders, a white-haired woman dressed in green and wearing an apron, reached back and jabbed the man behind her. He was large, even by Nord standards, broad of shoulder and well-muscled, and stood a head taller than the rest of the crowd. He looked down at her, eyebrow raised, and she jerked her head at the crowd in general. He blinked, then nodded.

The Nord inhaled, then yelled. There were no words to it – it was simply louder than anything else in the inn, and did a magnificent job of shutting everyone up. All eyes in the crowd went to him, those of them that weren’t fiddling with their ringing ears, and stared back at those he could see. “Y’take turns at speaking,” he said, simply.

Gerdur cleared her throat. “Thank you, Macintosh.” He nodded, and she continued. “Yes, Sven, it fits the stories. It also,” she said, raising her voice and bulling ahead to cut off the shouts before they could gain momentum, “is a threat to us – even if it is not a dragon. Whatever that beast is, it is why Helgen burned.”

“How do you know?” She turned to find the speaker, narrowing her eyes at the dark-haired man.

“Eyewitness, Lucan!” Applejack was on her feet, cutting in before Gerdur could reply, Rainbow Dash beside her. The redhead stepped forward, chin up and face serious.

“I was at Helgen. That thing swooped down on us without any warning and set fire to everything it could, and shrugged off whatever the Legionnaires managed to throw at it.” She glared at the crowd, defying anyone to contradict her. “If it comes here and you don’t have a plan? Riverwood will burn brighter than Helgen.”

The gathered were silent. Their faces ran the gamut of expression, from scared to angry, worried to skeptical. Lucan, the proprietor of the Riverwood Trader, was clearly not buying it. “And who are you, then? You’re Imperial, but you are no legionnaire. Why were you at Helgen?”

Rainbow stared at him, but he did not flinch. Others were looking at her as well, clearly expecting her to answer – but if she did, they’d just discredit her. She no longer bore the evidence of dragon fire, and who would trust the word of a woman escaped from the headsman’s axe? She’d have to make something up. No problem. She could do that.

“She’s not the only survivor.” She blinked, staring at Gerdur in surprise – along with everyone else. “My brother, Ralof, also survived. He came to me.” There were mutterings in the crowd, then, the words ‘Stormcloak’ and ‘traitor’ floating to her ears. Her brow furrowed. That name was familiar.

“Yes, I harbored him. He is my brother. Would you expect different?” Gerdur asked, a clear note of challenge in her voice. People exchanged glances, and more than a few nods, and the mutters died down. “He is gone, by now, but he told me what he saw. This woman is not lying.”

“Hadvar survived as well.” Everyone turned to Alvor, now, Applejack’s face lighting up at this revelation. “My nephew came to me, like Ralof to you, Gerdur, and he shared the same story. He, too, is gone, off to let the Legion know.” The blacksmith looked straight at Lucan, whose look of disbelief had been replaced by one of worry. “That is three accounts, now. Both Stormcloak and Legion agree on what happened, and Miss Dash holds with neither. If you do not believe now, then you are willfully blind.”

“So what do we do?” The bard was speaking again, his voice loud with worry. “If the Legion can’t handle a dragon, how can we?” Again, the crowd grew loud, everyone trying to voice their worries at once. The old woman dressed in green got to her feet, Big Macintosh helping her up, and rapped her cane on the floor for attention. The crowd grew quiet.

“I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do! First thing, we’re not gon’ panic, and we’re not gon’ worry more’n we have to!” she said, her voice trembling with her age, but clear nonetheless. “So don’t you go singin’ any songs of doom, whippersnapper, or I’ll have a piece of your hide, y’hear?” She gave Sven a pointed look, and the man nodded. “If ‘at dragon decides to burn us out, that’s gon’ happen. So best we can do is be alert and see it comin’. If it comes, we run! Y’all want to pack stuff and hide it away from town, where you can get to it later. If it comes to that, we go to family, or Whiterun.”

“So there’s no way to fight back, Granny?”

Granny Smith squinted, looking around to find the speaker. Camilla, Lucan’s sister, waved to her, and the elderly woman nodded her thanks. “It’s a dragon, girl. Men y’can fight. Dragons are beyond us. You run, you live. You stay, you die. Though …” Her brow furrowed, a thought coming to her. “The Jarl needs to know about all this. And he may have his own ideas about what to do.”

“He could send soldiers!”

“If the Legion couldn’t kill it, how will the guards?”

“The Legion didn’t have any warning! The guards will!”

“That won’t make a difference against a thing like that!”

The rapping of Granny’s cane on the floor brought silence to the room once again. She sent her glare around at everyone present, making sure she had their attention. “Guards’ll do what they can, and we can’t do squat about that. Worry about what we can do. Right now, that’s tell the Jarl. Y’all hear?”

There was a general murmur of assent. Gerdur nodded to Granny, then took the floor once more. “Good then. Now we need simply to pick who to send. Miss,” and she turned to face Rainbow, “would you be willing?”

The red head blinked. “What? Why me?”

“Because you were at Helgen, sugarcube.” Applejack put her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Jarl Balgruuf will want to hear about that, and will want to hear it from someone who saw it happen.” Rainbow frowned. This all sounded iffy. She’d come here to avoid complications, and it just looked like more and more were being thrown her way. “You won’t go alone, mind. I’ll go, too. After all,” she said to the crowd, “we need to speak for ouselves as well. And no buts, Big Mac. You can handle the farm without me for a while.”

Rainbow gave an internal groan. Now she had to go. “Yeah, okay. Fine. I’ll go.”

Gerdur nodded, and turned back to the crowd. “Anyone have any objections?” She was answered with silence. “Good then! Rainbow, Applejack, you have our thanks.”

“We’ll need a few days to prepare, all.”

“What about supplies?” Lucan asked, and Rainbow looked at him, suspicious. “It is a week’s walk to Whiterun, and the roads are not safe anymore. You will need armor, and food.”

“Are you offering to help?” asked Applejack.

“Yes,” he replied. “Though armor is not something I have in abundance.”

“We can make them armor, and weapons, if necessary,” Alvor said. “But I think everyone should put forward something to help them get there and back in one piece. Agreed?”

There was a chorus of ayes, and the meeting devolved into general chatter, people already discussing what to stash away and what to donate to the planned trip. Rainbow looked on, a little dumbstruck. Just like that? That’s all it took? Someone poked her in the ribs, and she jumped. “Hey!”

“You look a little dumbstruck there, sugarcube.”

Rainbow blinked, and scratched her head. “Well … it’s just … they’re all just gonna pitch in? Just like that? No teeth pulling or arm twisting?”

Applejack laughed. “‘Course they are! Only makes sense - if we’re supplied right, we stand that much better a chance of making it there, which is in everyones’ best interest.”

“Yeah, I guess, but … I’m just used to people being stupid about it.”

AJ snorted. “Yeah. They used to be that way. But by now they’ve all been on the wrong side of Granny’s tongue. Or cane, in some cases. Come on, Dash - we’ve got plans to make.”

Chapter 2 - Eternal Sorrow

((A/N: Hey, folks! Top Hat here, the other author behind this crazy project. I want to apologize personally for the delay in getting Chapter 2 out to you guys. The chapter has been 90% complete for a while; it was just waiting for me to write one last scene. Unfortunately, the past few weeks have been rather odd for me, filled with interruptions from various sources, and in the midst of it, I lost track of how much time was actually passing. Rest assured, I'll do my utmost to make sure that doesn't happen again for my part. Chapter 3 will be up in a much more timely fashion, I guarantee that. Stay Classy! ~The Less Anonymous Top Hat))

He’d been tracking them for ages. Ever since they’d rounded that bend and walked right under his favorite vantage point. Two women, both armed, both armored, and both real pretty. Too bad Gedel was such a woman hater. Would have been nice to keep one alive.

They were chatting. Must be friends, the way they talked. Kept ribbin’ each other, or tellin’ stories of exploits; fairly usual, for those on the road, good way to pass the time an’ all that. Kind of missed that. Gedel was just a bitch, and Hern and Ragol, well, he’d already heard all their stories. Twice. And they didn’t have the wit to make any up, neither.

But friends, yeah. The pretty little red head with the daggers and the leather seemed new to the north, the tall blonde was clearly a native. She had nice hips, he thought. Child bearing hips, or so his ol’ ma would have said, bless her cold, shriveled heart. Now which one’d be most dangerous? On their own, would have been the blondie; that armor looked sturdy, if a bit cobbled together, and with that build and those muscles, those maces’d be right dangerous. The red head, well, leather was all well and good but he knew it’d just take one good hit from Ragol’s axe and down she went.

With the two of them, though … oi, now, wake up, Pael. That there was the ambush point. He put fingers to mouth, gave a sharp whistle, and pulled out his daggers, waiting for his cue. He didn’t have to wait long. Ragol never could do a proper ambush, always had to come chargin’ out bellowin’ at the top of his lungs. No matter, kept their eyes off him and on the hulking brute with a bloody great axe, which meant, and here he rolled out of his hiding spot and started sprinting up at the two girls, that he could shank ‘em in the back.

Only things weren’t goin’ quite right. Ragol had gone after the red head, and sure her attention was on him, but the damn fool had missed. That little slip of a thing had just about floated around the axe’s swing and he could just see the flash of her blades and she’d struck at the orc. He’d be feelin’ that before too long – hopefully these two had some potions on them.

Blondie’d somehow got her helmet on, and she was backin’ Hern up, which was a first. Usually he was the one backing people up with those swords o’ his but this time the guy couldn’t get close, it seemed, what with heft and reach o’ those maces. Damn, but this girl had arms. Where was Gedel, then? Takin’ her sweet time as usual? Oh well, up to him.

He slipped up behind the blondie and stabbed at her sides. Well shit. Those pelts weren’t givin’ for anythin’. What’d she done, used troll hide? He hopped back, just in time, or her elbow would’ve clocked him right in the chin and judgin’ from how she could hold those maces that would’ve been it. Easy target on her’d be either throat or where the armor didn’t cover her arms but to be honest he just wasn’t feelin’ like risking a busted head. He stumbled over towards Ragol’s way, and how the hell had they already moved that far away?

“Switch targets, oaf!” he yelled, and the orc grunted, turned and sprinted for the blondie. Redhead yelled “hey!” and went after the guy, who was already bleeding in like six places, but there he was, taking a swipe at her face, which she dodged, and then her eyes were on him. What in … she was grinnin’ like Hircine on a hunt. “You know how to use those daggers, elf?”

He sneered right back, and attacked. She stepped to the left, slipped inside his reach before he could blink, and fuck. Ow. He stumbled, daggers falling from his hands as they reached for his stomach. Gut wound. Gods damn. He felt a foot in his back, and he pitched forward into the dirt, down and out. Now he really hoped they had some potions.

He managed to roll himself over, and propped himself up on a handy rock, so he could watch. Oh. There was Gedel. Finally. Now she was facing the red head, and doin’ a better job than either he or Ragol had, on account o’ her shield and her cautious disposition. Red head moved with a grace that, if he weren’t so preoccupied with his impending death, would’ve put his mind straight to the bedroom, and not wantin’ to start that kind of thing, he looked over to the blondie.

Well fuck. They’d just bloody chosen the wrong damn targets, hadn’t they? Blondie was holdin’ off Hern and Ragol at the same time, turnin’ Hern’s blades on that armor and playing Ragol off not unlike Red had done, though the Orc was movin’ slower and that was probably on account of Red’s strikes on him. He just about choked when Hern had to dodge Ragol’s axe, and wanted to yell at the oaf. Couldn’t, though. Too busy just trying to breathe right.

There went Hern. Blondie’d took advantage of Ragol’s mistake and thunked her mace into the back of Hern’s head, and he went down hard. Ragol turned and looked at her and oh hells he was bringing the axe up to try and block. One good hard overhand and his hand was just a bloody mess, and he no longer had any kind of weapon, and then her other mace hit him in the face and that was that.

He closed his eyes, breathed a couple breaths, and looked over at Gedel. She was on the ground, no sword, no shield, with Red’s dagger at her neck. How’d that happened? Shit. They really had picked the wrong targets. He closed his eyes again, ‘cause now the world was startin’ to spin. They were talkin’ now. Who was it? Blondie? Yeah.

“I know you, Gedel Hothsright. Y’might not recognize me, but I know you.” Well now that was interestin’. “Can’t say as I’ll ever quite forget how you left town. Seems fittin’ you’d end up running with this pack o’ curs.” No response. Probably afraid to talk. Good knife to your throat, you could cut it yourself if you weren’t careful, like.

“What’d she do?” That was Red.

“She was sweet on a boy. Name of Nolan. ‘Cept he was sweet on a girl name of Rana. Had been since they were little tykes. Gedel didn’t like that, now did she? Never did like any o’ the girls. Always fightin’ and diggin’ at ‘em, and then one day she gets an axe. Y’know they buried ‘em together, Gedel? You didn’t stay for the funeral, though I can’t say I blame ya for that bit. Y’never could pull ‘em apart. And y’ain’t made no amends since.”

“Wow. You’ve gotta be, like, the fifth worst person I’ve ever stuck a dagger to. What are we doin’ with her, then?”

“There’s already been a trial. Elders’ve put out a notice for your death, Gedel. I’d take you back so the parents could see it happen, but that’s askin’ for trouble.” He managed to open his eyes again. The world had stopped spinning, but it was gettin’ blurry. He could make out the blondie’s shape, though. She was holding … he squinted. Ragol’s axe. Had to be. “Uh …”

“Y’might want to move your hand.”

The axe flashed, there was a thunk, and he closed his eyes again. He could hear footsteps comin’ toward him, and managed a small grin. “You girls … are good. Damn good. Better’n you looked.” Damn it hurt to talk. Had she stabbed him somewhere else, too? Bah. Didn’t matter much by this time. Only thing that could save him’d be a right strong spell, and neither of them looked the type. “You’re faster’n lightning, Red.”

Silence, save for a small shuffling of feet. “Do me a favor?” He heard a snort. Yeah. Thought so.

“Maybe.”

Oh? Blondie was the nice one, then? “Wound like this,” he struggled through the pain, “take a good hour to finish me off. Mind makin’ it quicker?”

Silence again. He forced his eyes open. They were lookin’ at each other, like there was some sort of unspoken conversation goin’ on. Yep. Good friends. Finally, Red nodded, and knelt down in front of him. “Thanks, Red.” Her blade flashed. There was a brief moment of pain, and then it all went dark.

“You okay?”

AJ nodded. “They weren’t nothin’ special. Couldn’t even get through my armor.”

“Yeah, I saw that. Nice fighting. But, uh, that’s kinda not what I meant.”

“I’ll be alright. I’ll admit, seein’ her was a shock. Dredged up a lot of old, bad memories. But I’ll be alright.” Green eyes met fuchsia. “Though, I do wonder why you pinned her, ‘stead of killin’ her.”

“Told ya I’m a duelist, remember? There’s special rules and stuff, but one of ‘em is that you can’t kill an unarmed opponent. Only subdue. ‘Course if they pick up a weapon again then it’s on again, but …”

“So, what, force o’ habit?”

“Yep. But you, man, where’d you learn to fight like that? I mean, that was, like, awesome.”

“Oh, my pa taught me a bit, and Big Mac too, whenever he was on leave. Granny’s the one made sure I always practiced, though.”

“Granny, huh?”

“Yep. Whenever I’d complain she’d say, ‘Applejack, filly like you is bound for trouble, an’ through no fault o’ yer own. Now you get on out there and do your drills, or you’ll be taking double shifts on manure.’ So, you know.”

“Ew. Remind me never to take up farming.”

“Now don’t go knockin’ it. It’s hard work, but it’s good work, and the rewards are right worth it.”

“If you say so, AJ.”

-oOo-

“Huh. It looked a lot less run down from a distance.”

It was true. Whiterun looked incredibly impressive from far off, with the Dragonsreach palace towering over the countryside from its hilltop vantage, its walls seeming tall and impenetrable. The closer they’d gotten, though, the more it had become clear that Whiterun, while still a formidable stronghold, was nothing like it must have been in its early days. Time, and no doubt attempts upon its walls, had worn them down - in some places, it looked like an agile person could just climb over the wall. “Well, it is an old city. Probably best if we don’t tell the Jarl to ‘is face that ‘is place is looking shoddy, though.”

“Uh, duh. I ain’t stupid,” Rainbow grumbled. “I still don’t quite get why I let you talk me into this.”

“It’s ‘cause you care, obviously,” to which Rainbow replied with a punch to Aj’s shoulder. Not a hard punch, mind - she’d forgotten about AJ’s armor the first time and had been nursing bruised knuckles for the better part of that day. AJ just chuckled and kept walking.

“Hold there,” said the gate guard, “the city is closed to visitors because of the dragon attacks.”

“That’s why we’re here,” said the blonde. “We’ve got news from Helgen, and a request for the Jarl’s aid from Riverwood.”

“Oh, really,” said the guard, looking the pair of them over. They were suspicious looking, he thought. The woman who’d addressed him was kitted in banded iron, her helmet slung at her belt, along with a couple of good steel maces. Clearly a Nord - no mistaking that stature or that long blonde hair, though her eyes were green. The woman beside her looked Imperial, maybe. Fiery red hair, two daggers, some fairly well-crafted leathers, and a multi-colored bandanna around her neck. And violet eyes, too. Impudent grin. Both with hunting bows, too. Could be just for traveling, gods knew the roads were dangerous enough for it, but still ...

“And how do I know you two aren’t bandits, looking to get in and sell your purloined goods?”

Well that changed their expressions. The redhead looked insulted, the Nord’s face was just plain angry. “Hey! I am no bandit! I’m a stand-up duelist, not a backstabber, you piece of troll dung!”

“If’n I weren’t raised better, I’d clock you one just for suggestin’ such a piece o’ hooey. The Apple family don’t hold no truck with murderers and brigands.”

The guard laughed, and held up his hands. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, my mistake. You two go on in. The Jarl is in Dragonsreach,” he said, turning and signaling for the gate to be opened. “Go straight and head for the market area, then head up the stairs and right through the Gildergreen’s plaza. Path to Dragonsreach is right beside ol’ Heimskr. You’ll hear his ranting about Talos long before you see him.”

AJ just gave him a frosty nod, and went on in, Rainbow grumbling under her breath. “Me, a bandit. Those lunkheads couldn’t duel if their lives depended on it, what’s he thinkin’ puttin’ Rainbow Dash in the same boat as common thugs. You know you should have clocked him one.”

“Much as I’d have liked to, I ain’t never been to jail and I don’t never intend to go. Like as not it’d stop Granny’s old heart dead if she heard.”

“Hmph.”

Dragonsreach, compared to the city’s walls, was in fine shape, and very, very impressive. AJ had to keep her mouth from gaping open as she walked up the long pathway, and even more so once she was inside. Man, but this place was fancy. She looked down at her armor, banged together from iron scrap that they’d managed to scrounge from Alvor’s smithy and the farm, and reinforced with pelts that Faendal had been kind enough to donate. She suddenly felt very out of place.

Still, they were here for a reason. She shook off the nervousness as best she could, and strode forward, doing her best to look as if she belonged here. It did manage to attract the attention of a dark elf in good leather, who approached her with both frown and drawn sword. “What’s the meaning of this interruption? Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving any visitors.”

She put her hand over her heart and bent her torso forward in a shallow bow, like mum had taught her was appropriate, and could only hope that Rainbow’s inevitable scowl at their rather cold reception wouldn’t spoil the whole thing. “Pardon, ma’am, but we come with news of the attack on Helgen.”

The woman continued to frown at them both. “You were there?”

“I was, yeah,” said Rainbow Dash, her tone challenging.

“I’m from Riverwood, ma’am,” cut in AJ, hoping to head off any clashes. “Me and mine run the apple orchard and farm there.”

The elf took another look at the nord, and her eyes widened in sudden recognition. “You’re Smith’s granddaughter, aren’t you.”

“Yes’m. ‘M Applejack.”

“Well, that explains why the guards let you in. Come on then,” said the elf, sheathing her sword and heading back across the hall. “The Jarl will want to speak to you personally.”

The conversation the Jarl was having with his steward ended as they approached, the man taking a good look at the two women as they approached his throne. Not bothering to raise himself up from his tired slouch, he greeted them. Well. More like acknowledge them with annoyance. “Well. I trust you something vitally important to tell me. Important enough to interrupt me in the middle of council?”

AJ thought she did rather well, in that she didn’t swallow nervously or turn and run right then and there. She’d never been good at dealing with nobility, not even when they were just passin’ through the town on there way to somewhere else and came to the farm for some provisions or the like. Which, admittedly, was all her previous experience with them. “I hope so, my Lord. We come from Riverwood, and bring news of Helgen, and a request for aid.”

That got his attention. He was sitting upright right quickly, his full attention on them. “You were at Helgen? You saw this dragon with your own eyes?”

She blinked. Well. Of course news of the dragon would have spread before they got there. It could fly. Duh. “She didn’t, I did,” spoke up Rainbow Dash, as straightforward as ever. “See, the Imperials over that way had captured a bunch of Stormcloaks, this guy named Ulfric with them,” she said, going straight into her story and ignoring the looks of surprise on the faces of the three nobles, “and also a couple of unrelated types who just happened to be in the area, and were sendin’ them all to the execution block without anything like a trial or even botherin’ to make sure that, you know, the people they had actually were rebels and not just innocent border crossers.”

She paused to take a breath, and AJ hid her face in her hand. “So they’ve already chopped off one head, and are just about to chop off another, when BAM! Great big black scaly winged dragon lands on one of the towers, looks at us all, then, like says something, and the sky turns all stormy, and then he starts shooting fire all over the place and tossing things about and all the soldiers are shootin’ at him, but me not bein’ a soldier decide I should get out of there so I do. And it didn’t exactly make it easy or nothin’, looked like it was huntin’ me. Oh, and at the end, it talked. Told me to run, and take a message about our days being numbered and voices sundering the heavens or something like that to someone who sounded pretty important. I can’t remember all the deals, ‘cause I was kind of runnin’ for my life and everyone elses’.”

There was, for a moment, silence after this outpouring of information, during which the Jarl turned his eyes back to Applejack. “And what’s your part in all this?”

“Well, my lord, I saw the dragon as it flew over Riverwood, and met Rainbow when she came from Helgen, and decided to come here to ask for aid in person, it not being right to ask others to do things you should do yourself.”

The Jarl turned to the balding Imperial at his side. “What do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?”

Almost immediately, the dark elf spoke up. “We should send troops to Riverwood at once. It’s in the most immediate danger, if that dragon is lurking in the mountains.” AJ blinked. Oh, she liked this woman.

Then the imperial said his piece, and she was not nearly as impressed. “The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation! He will assume we’re preparing to join Ulfric’s side and attack. We should not...”

“Enough!” The Jarl cut him off, surprising her and keeping her from bursting in herself. A glance to her side showed Rainbow equally surprised, her mouth open in preparation to shout. “I’ll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people! Irileth,” and now she had a name for the dark elf, who, come to think of it, was probably the Jarl’s housecarl. “Send a detachment to Riverwood at once.”

“Yes, my Jarl,” she said, and left, and Proventus similarly excused himself. Balgruuf turned back to the women, and nodded. “Well done. You sought me out on your own intitiative. You’ve done Whiterun a service, and I won’t forget it.”

“That’s mighty kind of you, sir,” AJ replied, a slight blush working working its way onto her cheeks, “but Riverwood is my home. Looking to its safety ain’t anythin’ special.”

“A fair point. But you hold no such ties, do you?” he said, now addressing Rainbow.

“Well, uh, not really, but living is a lot easier when all the towns aren’t burnt down, so, you know.” She shrugged. Balgruuf chuckled.

“Another fair point.” He leaned back, a speculative look coming into his eyes. “You are both armed and armored. Did you run into trouble on the way here?”

The two looked at each other. “We did hit a snag with some bandits, but-”

“It wasn’t anythin’ the fastest hands in Cyrodiil couldn’t handle!” boasted Dash, patting her daggers and grinning. Which faded a little when she caught AJ’s look. “Uh, and, uh, she helped too.” Rainbow leaned forward a little, lowering her voice to an ostentatious whisper. “Actually, don’t let her fool you. She’s mean with those headcrushers of hers.”

Balgruuf nodded gravely, his eyes twinkling, and AJ had to resist the urge to cover her face again. Dammit, Rainbow. “Well, it seems that the two of you may be able to help me with something. Suitable for people of your particular talents, perhaps.” He rose, and beckoned for them to follow. “Come, let’s go find Farengar, my court wizard. He’s been looking into a matter related to these dragons and... rumors of dragons.”

-oOo-

"So... lemme get this straight," Rainbow began as the pair took the winding path down from Whiterun's gate, "We came all the way here from Riverwood... just to go back?" They had gotten a rundown of their task from Farengar, the court wizard, the previous day and had spent the remaining daylight preparing for the journey back to Riverwood and spent the night at the local inn. The early morning sun barely touched them through the heavy cloud cover as they rounded the last corner. AJ shrugged at Dash’s question. In all honesty, she was glad to be heading back home.

"Can't help that the Dragonstone is up in Bleak Falls. Reckon it's a good thing it's so close to home, though. Gives us a proper place to rest up. You rather it was out on some gods forsaken hill, leagues from the nearest town?"

"Well, when you put it like that ..." Dash grudgingly admitted. AJ just smirked.

As they passed through the final defensive gate, they were greeted with the scent of cooking. Just off the path, a number of crude hide tents had gone up overnight. Within the camp, several of the Khajiit cat-people could be seen gathered around a cooking pit, spooning mouthfuls of soups from wooden bowls that steamed in the early-morning chill. Manning the pot over the fire was a pale red female with a hopelessly frazzled mane. She looked up from her work and spotted the pair of travelers. She smiled and waved to them enthusiastically.

“Rainbow...” AJ said quietly, eyeing the cat-folk.

“Yeah?”

“Who in Talos’ name are they?”

“They’re Khajiit. Probably part of a trade caravan.” Rainbow explained off-hand.

“What now?” AJ turned to her with a face that made it clear she didn’t quite understand.

“Khajiit! C’mon, AJ. You can’t say you...” A sudden dawning realization settled on Dash’s features. “Don’t tell me you’ve never met a Khajiit before!?”

“Uh... no?” As if in response to this, the flaps to the nearest tent were pushed aside, revealing an older grey-haired Khajiit who smiled warmly at the two.

"Ah! Travelers! Come! Weapons, armors, supplies, and trinkets Ri'saad provides. Come! See what Ri'saad has to offer." That decided everything.

"That's it, now we're definitely going in," Rainbow declared, pushing AJ towards the tent.

"Wh-what? Why?" AJ objected.

"Whadaya mean 'why'? It's a Khajiit trade caravan! You never know what they've got!" The inside of the tent confirmed what Rainbow had said. The tent was packed with displays of almost every kind of ware available in or out of Skyrim, and some things you couldn't get anywhere else. "Moon Sugar," Dash noted after taking a whiff of the air inside the tent.

"Yes. Only the finest. Are you looking to purchase?" Ri'saad asked.

"Nnno, sorry. I don't 'do' Moon Sugar," Dash said quickly, stealing a quick look at AJ.

"A shame," Ri'saad muttered. He spent the next few minutes pointing out the centerpieces of his collection, expounding the merits of various trinkets and baubles and their associated enchantments. Applejack and Rainbow patiently listened to his spiel; AJ more so than Rainbow, who was both unimpressed and had eyes on something already. Taking advantage of a break in Ri’saad’s endless pitch, she worked her way over to one of the weapon displays. Ignoring the flashy enchanted and gold-gilt trash, she picked up one of a pair of simple steel daggers. They were longer, which was an improvement over the short iron abominations she carried already. She tested the balance in her hand and checked the edges next. Whoever made these knew what they were doing.

“Hey, buddy,” she began, tapping the merchant on the shoulder. “How much for the pair?” she asked, holding out the daggers on the palms of her hands. Ri’saad blinked at her, confused.

“Are you sure? This one would recommend...”

“No. I want these. How much?” The Khajiit seemed on the brink of arguing, but instead let out a sigh of resignation.

“Forty gold for the pair.”

“Thirty,” Rainbow corrected. The merchant’s eyes narrowed.

“Ri’saad will take no fewer than Thirty-seven.”

“Twenty-five and you get my old daggers,” Rainbow replied. “They’re in better condition than when I found ‘em, trust me.” Ri’saad seemed to pause, then shook his head.

“Give this one your daggers, and the price will be thirty. That is the best price Ri’saad can offer.” Now it was Rainbow’s turn to consider the price. After a moment, she nodded in agreement.

“Deal.” The exchange was made, the iron daggers replacing the steel ones on the display rack and a small purse changing hands. Rainbow felt a good deal more secure now that she had proper weapons instead of cheap military knock-offs. “You ready to go AJ?” Rainbow asked, turning to the Nord.

“Just a sec, Rainbow,” she said, taking her turn catching the merchant’s attention. There was no haggling this time. Just a quick exchange of a few gold and AJ had what she wanted. “A lil’ horse figure,” she explained, stashing the wooden toy in her pack. “For Apple Bloom.”

As the two of them left the tent, they were greeted once more by the pale red Khajiit that had been manning the cooking pot. “Hiya! Thanks for stopping by to shop! You have no idea how many people just walk by. Seriously! Who would pass up the chance to buy from us? So that’s why, when Pinkie saw you, Pinkie was all ‘Hiya!’ and waved and everything, because being friendly is one of the best ways to attract customers, and besides, being friendly is fun!” The Khajiit gave them a huge grin. Rainbow looked confusedly at the Khajiit. AJ’s face had gone blank.

“O-kay, then ...” Rainbow said after a long moment of awkward silence. “No problem. Glad we stopped. Bye now.” She turned and gave Applejack a shove to get them moving down the road again, leaving the grinning cat waving at them from the edge of the camp. “Creepy, that one,” she muttered under her breath.

The first leg of the trip was completed in relative silence, both women spending most of it wrapped up in their own respective thoughts. Rainbow wore an unreadable frown as she walked, eyes locked on some point on the ground a few paces ahead. Applejack’s eyes kept drifting over to the mountains to the south, back towards Riverwood and the orchard. They spoke seldom, and only in short exchanges, until they arrived at the Honningbrew Meadery and the crossroads it stood next to. Here, AJ stopped, eyes turning back towards Whiterun.

“Hey, Rainbow,” she began. There was no answer. She turned to see Rainbow hadn’t stopped walking, eyes still vacantly staring at the road. “Hey! RD!” Rainbow stopped suddenly, snapping out of whatever thoughts had kept her occupied.

“Huh? Oh! Sorry. What did you say?” Dash asked, turning to face her companion.

“I was thinkin’. While we’re here, Cousin Alfhild’s farm ain’t that far down the road from here, thatta way.” She pointed down the left fork of the road, back towards Whiterun. “Haven’t seen her in a while, an’ I figure I should at least pay her a visit.” Rainbow’s shoulders slumped a little as she gave Applejack a flat stare in reply. “What? It’s only ‘bout a twenty-odd minute walk from here. It’s the second windmill over there.”

“That’s twenty minutes we could be putting behind us on the way to get this Dragonstone whatsit for mageface,” Dash said pointedly. “And your cousin’s farm is in the exact opposite way we want to be goin’ now!” She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder to emphasize her point, indicating the fork that wound its way south towards the mountains.

“I know that! But she’s family, and it just don’t feel right leavin’ without catching up a little.” Dash’s face scrunched up in frustration. AJ could tell Rainbow didn’t like cutting their daylight hours by backtracking like that. She prepared herself for another stubborn refusal, but instead, the redhead seemed to deflate.

“Fine. Let’s just... let’s just make it quick, alright?” Applejack smiled gratefully in response and clapped a hand on Rainbow’s shoulder.

“Alrighty then! Let’s get goin’... er... Rainbow? You alright, sugar cube? You look like you just seen a ghost.” There was no response from Rainbow, but her eyes had gone impossibly wide. “Rainbow?”

“What in godsblood... is that!?” Her arm, mechanically rose, pointing across the bridge that lead back towards Whiterun. Applejack turned quickly, suddenly on edge, looking for the source of Rainbow’s sudden paralysis. It was hard to miss, but when she saw it, she let out a relieved chuckle and gave Rainbow’s shoulder a gentle shake.

“You can relax, Rainbow. That’s just one of our local Giants. They come through here often enough.”

“But it’s a freaking Giant, for Stendarr’s sake! What in Oblivion is a Giant doing here?”

“They live here, Rainbow. They been livin’ here for as long as anyone can remember. Don’t worry ‘bout them none. They’re generally quiet folks, so long as you don’t go after their herds.” Rainbow was not completely convinced, but she gave a shallow nod and followed AJ closely as she lead the way towards the bridge. The Giant didn’t seem to notice, continuing its long, lumbering pace. “See? Nothin’ to worry ‘bout, now is th-”

CRASH! The bridge shuddered as the Giant’s club struck the stonework, sending shards of stone and dust scattering. Both women froze in their tracks. The Giant’s stance had changed. It hunched aggressively forwards, swaying in place. Its eyes watched them. Very. Closely.

“Oh sweet Mother Mara...” AJ muttered.

“I thought you said they were peaceful!” Rainbow hissed.

“They are... usually.” That brought a low groan from Rainbow. “It’s alright, we just need to slowly back off, and it’ll leave us be.” AJ swallowed hard and started to slowly step away from the eleven foot tall, club wielding hazard. As if in response, the Giant let out a grunt and lumbered forward. The first thing Rainbow noticed was that Giants were fast for their size. “RUN!” shouted AJ, and the two took off in the opposite direction, the thump of the Giant’s steps following swiftly after.

Rainbow risked a backwards glance as they rushed up the road, just in time to see the Giant wind up to bring its man-sized mallet down on top of them. Instinctively, she dove to the side, grabbing AJ by the arm and dragging the Nord down alongside her. The club struck the ground shortly after they did, right where they had been a split second before, leaving a sizable dent in the stone-paved road. Before they had time to stand up, the Giant was poised to stomp them into the road with a massive foot. The two rolled in opposite directions, once again narrowly escaping the coup de grâce. They scrambled to their feet and reached for their weapons.

The Giant’s head swayed back and forth, moving from Rainbow to Applejack and back again, as if trying to decide which should be turned to mush first. It finally raised its arm and swung in a wide arc, trying to hit both fighters in the same swing. AJ backed off quickly, getting safely outside the arc while Rainbow’s training brought out a completely opposite movement. She closed in with the hulking thing, getting in under the swing of its arm, running right up to its torso-thick legs. Her daggers flashed and struck at the back of nearest leg. The blades bit, but not very hard... or very deep. In fact, they didn’t even draw blood. Letting out a frustrated hiss, Dash leaped backwards, avoiding a retaliatory backhand.

“Great! My daggers don’t do squat to this thing! What now?” she called to AJ.

“Keep its attention! I’ll try to get in and give him a right good thumpin’!” the Nord replied, moving to position herself behind the Giant. Rainbow didn’t argue. Once more, she rushed in. The Giant moved to intercept her with the back of its huge hand. Unable to change course fast enough, Rainbow brought her arms up to brace herself for the blow. The hand connected, the force knocking Rainbow clear off her feet. The landing was worse than the blow. She landed flat on her back and felt all the air rush out of her lungs. She lay there gasping for air as the sky above her spun in circles.

AJ took advantage of the Giant’s focus on Rainbow to execute her own strike. Getting up close behind the Giant, she wailed on the back of the its knees, hitting with every ounce of muscle she had, alternating blows between both legs. It was almost completely ineffective. The only thing she managed to do was gain the Giant’s attention as it turned and swung the huge club at her. She was a little slow on the retreat, and the club caught a glancing blow off her shoulder armor, sending her spinning to the ground. With the Nord down, the Giant refocused on the stunned Rainbow. The club went up, poised to turn the Imperial into a smear on the side of the road, there was a flash of blue and yellow and a genuine grunt of pain from the Giant. The club changed course to swing at the source of its pain, but hit nothing but air.

AJ was the first to see the newcomer as she scrambled to her feet. It was the pale red Khajiit from earlier! She was standing just out of the Giant’s reach with a large battleaxe laying across her shoulders, dressed not in armor, but simple clothes of weather-stained blue and yellow. And she was smiling. “Silly Giant,” the feline said with a giggle. “You can’t hit Pinkie from there! You have to come over here!” The Giant grunted and took a quick pair of lumbering steps and took another powerful swing at the annoying cat. Once again, the Khajiit nimbly danced just out of the Giant’s reach with a giggle and a snort.

“It’s not very far! Just move your giant rump! You can hit me if you try before I hop, skip, and jump!” she taunted in a sing-song voice, deftly outmaneuvering another swing of the club. Applejack took advantage of the distraction and ran over to where Rainbow was only just beginning to move.

“You alright, Rainbow?”

“Yeah. Just a little... winded,” Dash replied, her voice a little raspier than normal. “Where’s tall, dark, and ugly?” AJ pointed at the slowly retreating Giant.

“Busy chasing that pink cat critter from earlier.”

“The Khajiit?”

“Yeah. She just showed up, got its attention, and started luring it away. Just like that.” She grabbed Rainbow’s outstretched hand and hauled the Imperial to her feet. “C’mon. Let’s see if we can help.”

A short jog brought them back to the fight. The Khajiit was still grinning from ear-to-ear, merrily dodging swing after swing from the increasingly frustrated Giant. Suddenly, there was a quick hissing sound, followed by a groan of rage from the giant. A second hiss followed, and then another. The giant’s arms and shoulder had sprouted a trio of red-feathered arrows. Beyond the Khajiit, standing on a low wall, was a woman. She already had another arrow drawn to her painted cheek, and she let fly, the arrow striking the Giant in the chest and eliciting another angry growl. Over the wall vaulted a beast of a man, a large steel claymore in his fists, and he charged the Giant head-on as the archer let fly another arrow. The arrow struck first, causing the Giant to hesitate just long enough for the steel-armored man to land a full running blow to the Giant’s leg, the blade biting deep and coming out stained red with Giant blood.

The warrior turned briefly to the Khajiit and the two women, a fierce intensity in his eyes. “Go! Get out of here. Let the Companions handle this.” The Khajiit nodded and skipped over to AJ and Rainbow. “You heard him, girls! Let’s go!”

“But...” Rainbow began, but was cut off by the warrior.

“Listen to the cat and go!” He shouted, bracing the flat of his blade against his hand to parry the Giant’s next swing.

“I think we best get movin’, RD.” Applejack hissed, giving Dash’s shoulder a tug as she began to jog away from the fight. Rainbow snorted and followed, casting several glances over her shoulder as they went, until the fight was hidden from view by a copse of trees.

Once they were sure they had put enough distance between themselves and the fight to avoid getting involved again, the two women slumped to the ground in the grass beside the road, giving their legs and lungs a chance to recover from the fight. The Khajiit plunked herself down nearby, that perpetual smile unfazed by the whole ordeal. AJ and Rainbow shared a look, and something unspoken passed between them. Rainbow just shrugged.

“Thanks for the help back there,” Applejack began, addressing the Khajiit. “Not sure if we’d still be breathin’ if it weren’t for you showin’ up when you did.”

“No problem! Pinkie was glad to help!”

“That your name? Pinkie?”

“Pinkie Pie is the name! Though, most people use just ‘Pinkie’, or ‘that pink cat;’ which doesn’t make much sense because Pinkie is not a cat. Pinkie’s fur is also not really pink. It’s actually mostly red, not pink. Well, not actually red. Closer to orange, or maybe a reddish-orangey-pink, but definitely not just pink-”

“Hold up a sec!” Rainbow interrupted. “How did you even know we were in danger?”

“Pinkie followed you, silly!” the Khajiit explained sticking out her tongue.

“But... why?”

“Because you didn’t have any axes! Everyone knows you don’t go traveling without axes! What if you needed firewood? Or a tree fell and blocked the road? Or you ran into a meanie Giant? Since you didn’t have axes, Pinkie knew you weren’t ready! And if you weren’t ready, that meant you could die! And that made Pinkie so sad! So that’s why I decided to follow you! Plus, Unca Sheggy said it’d be fun!”

The two women exchanged confused looks. This time it was Applejack’s turn to shrug. “Well... whatever the reason, I’m just glad you showed up when you did. I was about to become Rainbow Paste. So... thanks!” She extended a hand to the Khajiit, who shook it vigorously. “I’m Rainbow Dash.”

“And I’m Applejack.” AJ extended her hand in turn. “Thanks a bunch, Pinkie. You really did save our hides back there.”

“No problem girls! Say! Do you mind if Pinkie sticks with you? You two seem like a whole bunch of fun, and Pinkie was getting bored in that caravan anyway.”

“Pinkie, after the stunt you just pulled, we’d be fools to say ‘no.’ Glad to have you!” Rainbow said, leaning in to clap Pinkie on the shoulder.

“Well, with that outta the way, we better git a move on. We lost a lotta daylight there, so we have to hoof it the rest of today.” Applejack stood and stretched. “C’mon. Lets see how much distance we can put in.”

-oOo-

“Lucan! What’s this I hear about you bein’ robbed?”

The store owner and his sister turned as one to the door, their argument supplanted by surprise. Camilla was the first to speak. “Applejack! You’re back!”

The Nord gave her a friendly smile and a nod before stomping up to the sales counter. “Sure am, Camilla, and with some o’ the Jarl’s men in tow, too, for to help if one of those dragons comes on down here.”

What had once been rumor, once been dismissed as simply stories, was now widely known and accepted. Enough people in Riverwood had seen dragons in the distance, or even, distressingly, right overhead, that no one batted an eye. The brother, Lucan, frowned, his eyes on the Khajiit that had come in with his neighbor. “I don’t see what they’ll be able to do against a dragon.”

“They’re more to make sure that the people have a fightin’ chance of getting’ out, I’ll admit,” said Applejack, her eyes roving the store. It was in a state, sure enough, things on the floor and jumbled on the shelves, nothing like the order Lucan usually kept it in. “But back to what I was sayin’ first – what’s this I hear about you bein’ robbed?”

Camilla spoke up, her eyes also on the Khajiit, who was sniffing at the various cheeses on display, the haft of her battleaxe coming perilously close to knocking things around. “It happened last night. A shady group came through and broke in, near tore the place apart. They only took one thing, though – the claw.”

AJ’s eyes widened. “Now why would they do that? I mean I can see why someone’d want the claw, seein’ as it’s gold and all, but why ain’t they take anything else?”

Lucan slammed his fist down on the counter, eyes narrowed in anger. “And that was my question! It’s as if they did not think anything else here was of worth!”

It was at that point that a basket full of assorted cheeses and salted, smoked, and dried meats plunked down on the counter. Lucan started, and his eyes met the blue, curious ones of the red-furred Khajiit. “Hi!” she said. He blinked. “Er, hi.”

“How much for these?”

“Er …”

Applejack shifted over to Camilla, leaving her new companion to haggle with her neighbor. “Any clues, then?”

The woman nodded somewhat absent-mindedly, her attention mostly on her brother. “We saw them go, actually. They headed up towards the barrow. No idea what they hope to do up there, except perhaps use it as a base.”

Applejack frowned. Now that wouldn’t stand. Sure, with the Jarl’s men here now, and with Big Macintosh on the alert, there wouldn’t be another such raid, but bandits in the barrow? That was asking for trouble. “Well as it happens, Camilla, I’ve got business up at the barrow. It’s for the Jarl, so don’t let word get around,” she said, raising a hand to forestall the questions she could see rising in Camilla’s eyes. “And I can’t say no more about it. But I can see about getting’ that claw back.”

Her friend frowned. “That … we would like that, but Applejack, there were at least a dozen of them in town last night, and who knows how many they’ve got at the barrow. I –“

“Not another word. Like I said, I’ve business up there anyway, and I ain’t goin’ alone.”

Camilla’s eyes flicked to the Khajiit, eyebrows raised questioningly. “Yep. And Rainbow’s goin’ too.”

“That girl with the bandanna?”

“Yes. And believe me, Camilla, she can fight. We’ll be fine. Don’t you fret none on our account.”

Her friend sighed, and nodded. “It’s a poor time, this.”

“I won’t argue that.” Coin was now being exchanged, and so Applejack rose. “You all set, Pinkie?”

The Khajiit smiled back at her; really, she just widened her perpetual grin. “Pinkie’s aaaaall set! Now we’ll have real food!”

“If you say so. Come on.”

They found Rainbow waiting outside, leaning against one of the posts that supported the Riverwood Trader’s porch roof. “Hey.”

AJ frowned. Rainbow was wearing an odd expression, one she hadn’t seen before, and it set her on edge. “Rainbow? What’s up?”

The red head waved a pair of parchment sheets at her. “So are all the guys in your town idiots?”

“Idiots?”

“Like Faendal and Sven.”

AJ put her face in her palm. “Oh, Mara. What’d they do?”

Suddenly, Pinkie had her face in the parchment sheets, whiskers a-trembling. “Oooooo what’s this? Badly written love letters? Pinkie’s an expert at those!” In the blink of an eye she had the parchments in hand (or was it paw?) and was reading them, giggling. “Oh my, these are really bad!”

“Well, yeah, that’s the point. Sven wrote the one that says it’s from Faendal, and Faendal wrote the one that says it’s from Sven.”

AJ’s face darkened, her jaw set. “They’re forgin’ each other’s letters?”

Rainbow nodded. “Yep. Faendal caught me at the forge first, was on about Sven and told me he had this plan and practically begged me to help him out with it. So I took the letter, and was coming here, when Sven walks up and asked me what ‘that elf’ gave me. So I showed him, and he’s not even mad, he’s just all smug about it and then he gives me the one he forged! I mean, what’s wrong with those two?”

AJ snatched the letters out of Pinkie’s grasp, and gave them a quick once-over, her face growing grimmer by the second. “Oh, for Mara’s sake. I’ve a mind to take those boys and give ‘em a hiding. But I’ve a better idea. Wait here.” And she turned on her heel and stomped back into the Trader.

Rainbow looked over at Pinkie, and raised an eyebrow. Pinkie just gave a shrug. And then, from inside, there was a sudden shriek of “What!?” Rainbow’s eyes widened, and she started laughing.

“Oooo,” said Pinkie, “she’s gooood.”

-oOo-

“Wait.”

They all three stopped, eyes on Pinkie, who had eyes on the old ruined tower ahead of them. “There’s people up there.”

“Bandits,” said Rainbow. “Let’s take ‘em out.”

“Now hold on, there, they might not be. Can you see anythin’ else, Pinkie?”

“Yep! The girl out front’s got a war axe and a shield and there’s a guy with a bow hanging out in the doorway.”

“Like I said …”

“Alright, Rainbow, they’re bandits. Wait, where are you-“

“Don’t worry, they won’t see me!”

Dash slipped forward, her daggers at the ready, making sure to keep the terrain between herself and the lookout. Her instincts were yelling at her, telling her to just go charging in and trust to her speed and skills, but she kept that down. The image of the horse-thief, arrows sticking out of his back despite his good turn of speed, kept her in check. “This isn’t a duel, Dash, they won’t play by the rules. Arrows are bad, don’t get hit by them.”

She looked back, to where she knew AJ was, and watched as the woman drew back the bow and let fly. There was a cry of pain from the other side of the rock she was hiding behind, followed by a cry of alarm and the banging of a weapon on a shield. She waited, listening to the footsteps, and as the lookout rounded the corner she stuck out her own leg and tripped her up. The woman faceplanted in the snow, and she was on her in a flash, daggers sinking into her exposed back. She wrestled down the rush of guilt. “This isn’t a duel, this isn’t a duel.”

She heard the whoosh of another arrow as it passed overhead, and jumped out from her hiding spot, dashing up to the entrance. The archer Pinkie had spotted was lying just inside, an arrow in his shoulder and one in his throat, so she ignored him and looked up. There were shouts from upstairs, and she could hear weapons clashing. What? Weapons?

The way up took her out the other side of the building, and she almost ran into another bandit at the top of the outside ramp. She recovered from the surprise far sooner than the bandit, however, was inside the man’s reach in a jiffy, her dagger stabbing into his chest. He staggered back, and she gave him a kick, sending him off the ramp and down onto the rocks below. Still, she could hear shouts and weapons, and so rushed on up.

She reached the top just in time to see Pinkie facing off a man in armor like AJ’s, battering him back with repeated swings of her axe at his shield. The room on top of the ruined tower was minimal, very narrow, and she couldn’t see a way to get around and help. But it didn’t matter. Pinkie took a step back, raised her axe in a large overhand strike, and brought it crashing down on the bandit’s shield. He staggered backwards, caught his foot on the turret wall, and went tumbling off with a yell.

Rainbow walked up to stand beside Pinkie, looking over the edge. “What in tarnation!”

She winced. From the look of things, the bandit had nearly landed on AJ. “Whoops! Sorry, Jackie!” Dash raised her eyebrow. Jackie? “Pinkie didn’t see you down there! You alright?”

“How’d you get up there?”

“Pinkie walked!”

Wait, how had she got up here? Rainbow had been the first one in, she could have sworn it; she hadn’t even seen Pinkie get by her. “You … no, I mean, without me seein’ you!”

“You weren’t looking?”

Rainbow put her hand on Pinkie’s shoulder. “It’s not all that important, AJ, let’s just get on to the barrow. I’m itchin’ to get this behind me.”

“Alright, well, come on down, then, and let’s go.”

Rainbow gave a low whistle, eyes traveling up, and up, and up, finally resting on the top of the enormous stone structure before her. And it was, truly, enormous. The dark, ancient edifice dominated the mountaintop, its triangular arches a match for its forbidding face. It looked like some tyrant’s palace, a brooding, hulking thing. She reached out to touch the central pillar of the barrow’s entranceway, brushing away some of the clinging snow, and shuddered. “Who built this?” she wondered.

“Nords,” Applejack answered, her voice subdued. “Ancient ones. It’s just always been here.” She, too, placed a hand on the central pillar, her touch tentative, almost reverent. “We had a bard come through Riverwood, a long time ago, who said something about it being from before the first empire. He even said that it might just be as old, or older, than the White Gold Tower.”

Rainbow stared, inklings of what she could remember of history rising up in her mind, and leaving her dumbfounded. “Over four thousand years old,” she whispered.

“And still solid as the mountain its built on.” There was a hint of pride in Applejack’s voice, and really, Rainbow couldn’t blame her. She was feeling it too. After all, they shared the same ancestors.

“Hey girls!” The chipper voice of their other companion shook them out of the near trance, and they looked around the pillar to spot Pinkie standing at the barrow’s door. “Are we going in or what?”

Rainbow chuckled, shaking off the awestruck mood and moving to the door. “Right. In we go then - we’ve got bandits to evict!”

Pinkie crept forward, her ears swiveling at every sound, willing herself not to sneeze. There was so much dust down here, you’d think these Nords never set foot in these tombs. Oh wait. They never did. Something about not disturbing the dead. She’d always thought that was silly, really. If the dead could be disturbed, wouldn’t they like the company?

Focus, Pinkie. And don’t sneeze. Her ears shifted forward, hearing voices from around the corridor. Two of them, male … her nose twitched at the mention of skooma, her tail at the mention of an unpaid debt. Yep. More of the bandits. Their hearing was really bad, if they were just chatting like that, what with all the ruckus that her and her new friends had caused just up a level. Oh well! Easier for her to sneak!

She looked over at Rainbow, who was watching her very closely, kinda like someone making absolutely sure that what they were watching wasn’t going to just disappear without them seeing it. She grinned the Imperial, and held up two fingers, then jerked her thumb down the corridor. Rainbow nodded, and they were both off, light feet on the old stone making very little in the way of noise.

There were the voices! Human and orc, both leaning against the corridor walls, and down the way it opened into a larger room. She twitched an ear. There were voices from in there, too. Oh well. So much for the stealthy option. She looked at Rainbow again, reached for her Battleaxe, and grinned.

AJ came clanking down the corridor at a full run, rounding the corner just in time to see an orc cut down by Pinkie’s great big axe. The Khajiit looked up at the charging warrior, grinned, and stepped into a hidden alcove, flicking a salute as AJ vaulted the orc’s corpse and ran into the room ahead. Four – two encroaching on Rainbow, one hanging back and trying to string a bow, a fourth looking at her. She kept her momentum, raising her right hand mace and bringing it down hard on the back of a bandit’s head. Her gut twisted at the messy crunch, but she ignored it, turning around in time to take a staggering blow from the war axe of the bandit she’d ignored.

She stumbled back, but righted herself, knocking his next blow to the side with her left hand mace, and followed up with a strike at his arm with her right. He screamed as the mace split flesh and cracked bone, and dropped to his knees, mouth opening to spit a curse at her. Her boot connected with his jaw first, and he was done.

She looked around, still at the ready, but there were no more foes. Rainbow had dispatched her foe with what she was coming to realize was a practiced ease; her claims of prowess were not exaggeration. The bandit with a bow had found himself on the wrong end of Pinkie’s axe, who must have followed her in. She heaved a sigh, and put her maces back in their belt loops, carefully keeping her eyes from the corpses.

“Alright. Pinkie. Any more?”

The Khajiit cocked an ear, and after a moment, nodded. “Pinkie hears one – muffled. But it’s shouting.”

AJ nodded. “Alright. Let’s go.”

“Wait, aren’t you staying back to let us scout ahead?”

“I ain’t stayin’ in here, Rainbow. I just ain’t.”

Dash took a look around the room, her eyes lingering on the two that AJ had felled, and nodded. “Alright. You lead the way, then, Ironhide.”

“Who’s got an iron hide?”

“AJ.”

There was a silence for a moment, only the sound of their footfalls there to break it. “Still looks human to me.”

AJ smirked as Rainbow sighed. “Never mind.”

-oOo-

“Ugh,” Rainbow groaned, slumping against the wall and fumbling in her belt pouch for some healing salve. “AJ, Skyrim officially sucks.” Her arms were already turning red, and she could feel that tingle that meant she’d be going numb before long. Ah, there it was. Uncorking the vial, she emptied it into her hand and started slathering it on all the places the spider’s fuzz had touched. “You’ve got, like, giant everything. I mean, the spiders are already bigger than most dogs, and now they come in sizes bigger’n bears? I’m thinkin’ I should’ve stayed in Cyrodiil.”

AJ grunted in response, focused on the work in front of her: gathering as much venom as she could from the enormous spider’s corpse. Dash focused on getting the salve on as much as she could. These spiders were nasty creatures, with a venom that would freeze you as surely as a Skyrim blizzard, and fuzz on their bodies that would leave you itching for days if you touched it. A good thing they’d stocked up at Arcadia’s Cauldron.

“What are you gonna do with that stuff, anyway?”

“A good alchemist can make a cure from it. ‘S habit to grab what I can when I get the chance.”

“Oh.”

She looked up at the doorway that led out of this room, where the spider webbing was thickest. A dark elf, still very much alive, was very carefully trying not to struggle against the webs that bound him while carrying on a conversation with Pinkie … or well, trying to. She had a pretty quick mind, but trying to follow that cat’s thought process was ridiculously hard.

“Look,” said the elf, “are you gonna cut me down from here or not?”

Alright, time to cut in. “Hey elf! Aren’t you with those bandits who were up the way?”

“Um.” He appeared to be thinking it over. Smart guy.

“’Cause, see, they kind of tried to kill us, and also went and stole this family keepsake from some friends of ours. So I was just, y’know, wonderin’ if you knew anything about that.”

“Uh … there were bandits in the barrow?”

“You’re a terrible liar. I mean, there’s like seven different tells you just gave me. So were you the ringleader?”

He grimaced. “Alright, you caught me. But look, if you cut me down, I’ll let you in on the secret of this place. There’s a reason I went after that claw. And it’s not like I can give it back to you while I’m all wrapped up like this.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, toying with the blade of her dagger. It was tempting to just take the easy road, really. He was, after all, a bandit. Simplest thing would be to just stab him, then cut him down, and get the claw off him. But … this wasn’t a duel. It wasn’t even a fight. She sighed. It just wouldn’t be right.

For all the spiders themselves were big, mean, and tough, their webbing gave way easily to the edge of her dagger. It only took a couple good swipes, and the stuff was weak enough that he dropped to the floor, and immediately started pulling it off him. She waited, foot tapping, as he got himself mostly clean, and met his look with a raised eyebrow. He turned around.

“Oh for the love of Talos,” she muttered. He was running. Shouting something about not sharing the treasure. Idi- a mass of blonde hair slapped her in the face, derailing her train of thought. Wow. She’d not thought AJ could run that fast. Oh. “Hey, wait!”

She came pelting around the corner, and suddenly there were stars everywhere, and lots of loud noises. “Ow.” She raised her head, forcing her eyes to focus, and found herself almost nose to nose with an extremely pale Applejack. “AJ, what-“

“They aren’t real, can’t be. Just legends.”

“What are you talk … ing … about oh gods what is-” She’d looked up. The elf was fighting, panicked against … corpses. Walking, emaciated, dried out corpses. In armor. With swords and axes. She scrambled to her feet, daggers in hand, shivering. “Corpses! Walking!”

“Not draugr, they ain’t real, they ain’t real, they ain’t real-“

A flash of red, blue, and yellow zipped past, and there was a nasty crunch. Pinkie Pie. Axe. And a corpse stopped moving. Okay. So they could be killed. Well. Killed again? There was a step behind her, and she whirled, dodging to the side just in time to avoid the swing of the corpses’ sword. “Shit.” She’d already stabbed it, on reflex, but it was still coming. Could her daggers do the trick here? Maybe the head. It swung again, which she ducked, automatically taking a cut at its leg, which didn’t do much to slow it down either, and slipped behind it, whirling to slam the point of a dagger right into the base of its skull. That did the trick, and down it went.

The rest were all done, too. Pinkie was, in some ways, distressingly skilled with that axe of hers, but it had enabled her to take out the remaining corpses without very much trouble. Dash grimaced. If there were more of these, her daggers weren’t going to be of near as much use as usual. Pinkie and AJ would need to take lead, and one of those was looking problematic.

“They ain’t real. They ain’t. I’m dreamin’, I gotta be. Ain’t real. I’m at home, sleeping, and I’m gonna wake up any minute.” She felt her hands being gently moved from her face, but she refused to open her eyes. She wasn’t gonna risk it. Couldn’t see them again. Couldn’t. Coul- okay, that tickled. “Stop that!” she all but growled, batting at the offending fuzzy.

“Okay!” came the response. Her eyes flew open, and she backed up, raising a hand to her shocked, and suddenly wet, face. Pinkie was grinning at her, tongue wiggling. She shuddered.

“You licked me?!”

“Yep! ‘Cause you said to stop the nuzzles.”

“Th-that don’t mean you can-“ Okay, they were laughing. Her face flushed red, and she hid it behind her arms, groaning. “Dammit, Pinkie, you can’t just lick people!”

“Okey dokey lokey! Come one Jackie, we’ve gotta find that stone for that wizard!”

Right. Right. They had a job to do here. Even if there were … draugr. She was a grown woman. She could do this. She could. She raised her head, took a deep breath, and forced herself to look at the creatures that had only just recently been doing their level best to kill them. Nine, and she’d made a right fool of herself, breaking down and cowering like that. No more o’ that, missie. You got lucky this time. But you can’t let it get to you again. Just can’t. And see, they can be killed.

She took Pinkie’s proffered hand, and heaved herself up, carefully skirting the desiccated corpses and making for the elf’s. Sure enough, he had the claw on him, and surprisingly a journal. Lettered bandits? Skyrim was going down the hole.

Dash put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, you alright?”

She sighed. “I will be. Just, uh … look, I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

“Hey, no problem. I’ve got your back, alright?”

“Thanks, Rainbow.”

-oOo-

There was a door. It was a great big thing, solid stone and built to last, and, like the hall they’d found it in, covering in intricate carvings. Right at the center was a circle made out of a conspicuously lighter stone, the vague outline of a claw leading to four holes. Just above it was an arc of similar stone, engraved in the center with the image of a bear, a pattern repeated twice more with even larger arcs – those bore an owl and a dragonfly, respectively. Pinkie was peering closely at the carvings, and sniffing at them too, while Rainbow was running her fingers over the stonework, marveling at the detail.

AJ had her nose in a book. Well. The bandit’s journal. “Alright. So he stole the claw ‘cause it’s the key to this door,” she said, snapping the journal shut and taking the claw off from where it hung on her belt. “I guess we’ll try it then. On your guard, though, just in case.” Carefully, she put the claw to the center stone. In reality, it was more like a sculpture of a hawk’s foot, extended as if for the kill; sure enough, the individual claws matched right up to the holes in the stone, and she could feel a click. “I guess I gotta turn?” But the claw wouldn’t budge. The stone shifted a bit, sure, but came up against a block. She shook her head. “More to it than that, I guess.

“Hey, these are rings,” said Rainbow, her fingers on the crack between the door itself and the housing of the stones that showed the animals. “I wonder …” she said, and pushed down on the howling wolf. The whole stone sank into the door, and then began to turn. When it stopped, a dragonfly had taken the place of the wolf. Rainbow whistled. “Now that was pretty cool. The guys who built this place knew their stuff.”

“Land sakes. I ain’t never seen anythin’ like that.”

Pinkie sneezed. “Whoo! Dusty!” And then her hands were on the door, all three rings moving at her command, until they displayed the combination of a bear, a dragonfly, and owl, in that order. “Try that!”

AJ shared a glance with Rainbow, then shrugged and gave the claw a twist. Sure enough, the center stone turned this time, until there was a clunk. The two top rings spun rapidly, lining up as all owls, and the whole door started shaking. Instinctively, she pulled the claw out, just as the door sank into the floor, revealing its sheer thickness. There would have been no way they could have broken through six full inches of solid stone. “Okay, wait, how’d you know the combination?” said Rainbow, suspicious.

“It’s on the claw! See?” Both pairs of human eyes went straight to the claw in AJ’s hand, and she turned it over. And, yes, there was the door’s combination, on the palm of the claw - a bear, a dragonfly, and an owl.

“Huh. Well would you look at that.”

“Sharp eyes, Pinkie.”

The door led them into a grand cavern, old, moss-covered pillars supporting the roof the corridor that led to the main room. The cavern itself looked naturally formed, lit by sunlight from large cracks in the ceiling. They stepped carefully past the raised daises, eyes on the coffins; but they were empty, no dried corpses within waiting to rise up and attack. Across a stream, bridged by ancient stone, a grand dais marked the resting place of whichever lord the barrow had been built for. The coffin was flanked by miniature braziers, a chest, and a set of shelves, the riches of the honored lord, and across from the coffin stood the grandest construction within the tomb – a shrine, of sorts.

It had been carved from an enormous boulder, easily as tall as even the noble houses within Whiterun. The shrine curved inward, forming a near perfect arch, and a beautifully rendered carving a dragon’s head adorned the center of the arch, presiding over the man-high wall, and the writing upon it. “By the Nine,” breathed AJ, maces lowered in her awe. “This is ...”

“Our ancestors sure knew how to bury the dead in style,” said Rainbow, her tone appreciative. “I guess if this Dragonstone exists, here’s where it’ll be.” AJ stepped foot on the dais, her eyes drawn to the wall. The markings were strange, scratches and holes, like nothing she had ever seen before, but ordered, arranged. They had meaning. They had to.

Her feet seemed to move of their own accord, carrying her into the arch itself. She barely noticed the world darkening, her eyes drawn inexorably to a specific group, all limned in blue. Tendrils of color reached toward her as she approached, and she could hear the rushing of her blood, the pounding of her heart. It was as a drum, or a chant, the same word, over, and over, calling to her, reaching for her mind; her very soul.

The world went black. There was nothing but the blue of the word before her, a simple thing, naught but three letters; and yet she could feel a power here, timeless in nature. As old as the world itself. The rhythm of the word reached a crescendo, and the power rushed into her, filling her with warmth. The word took shape.

Fus.

Force.

“Fus,” she whispered. The word felt right on her tongue, at home in her mouth.

“Applejack?” She blinked, and turned. Both Rainbow and Pinkie were looking at her, concern writ on their faces. “Are you okay, there?”

Wait. What in Oblivion had just happened? She’d just learned a word, just like that, from a language she’d not even known existed, and it hadn’t even struck her as odd. And really, it still didn’t. She felt like she should be freaking out, but she wasn’t. It just felt far too natural for her to muster any kind of distress over it. She nodded. “I’m fine, just got lost in thought there, heh.” Her eyes found the chest, its open lid providing an excellent subject change. “You find the stone?”

Rainbow narrowed her eyes at her even as she shook her head. “Nope. Not in the chest.”

The crack of stone reverberated throughout the cavern, drawing the attention of all three girls. The coffin’s lid had split in two, each piece flipping off to land on the dais’ stone with a resounding crash. The draugr’s fist opened, and it pulled itself out of the coffin, its blue glowing eyes going straight to Applejack’s face. It opened its mouth as it raised its battleaxe, every bit as large as Pinkie’s, and spoke.

“Unslaad Krosis.”

The girls scattered, AJ stepping back to dodge the draugr’s first swing, Rainbow and Pinkie flanking on the left and right. The Khajiit took a swing at its exposed back, but her blade was stopped by the armor it wore – far more substantial in nature than any of the draugr they had faced so far. It staggered forward from the force of her swing, but seemed unfazed, using the momentum to once again take a swing at Applejack. She dodged the brunt of it, but the blade still caught her chest piece, the enchantment upon it flaring to life. She could feel the chill as it penetrated her armor, instantly putting her in mind of the snowstorms of midwinter.

But she was a Nord. This chill was nothing. Far greater was the fear that clutched at her heart, the terror she felt at facing the draugr in the first place. She slammed into the shrine wall in her attempt to escape the range of its axe, and the fear turned to panic. It was going to kill her. It would kill her, and then she would rise, cursed to walk these halls as well.

Then Rainbow was shouting at it, darting past and slashing at its neck, and Pinkie’s axe crashed into its arm, a blow that should have crushed it to pulp stopping mere inches into the ancient flesh. “Huh. That usually works for Pinkie,” said the cat, blinking, as she dodged backwards to avoid the draugr’s retaliatory strike. Its second attack was faster, but she slipped to the side, and the axe blade struck only stone. “Hee! Can’t catch pinkie!” she taunted, and blew a raspberry. The draugr inhaled.

There was a clap of thunder, and Pinkie was thrown backwards, her body catapulted over the coffin by a rushing wave of blue, a startled “Ouch!” signaling her landing. Rainbow gave a shout, and charged back in, slamming her dagger between one of the plates of the ancient armor. The walking corpse looked down at her, and grinned. She took advantage of this to stab it in the neck.

It grabbed her arm, and twisted it behind her back, forcing her to cry out in pain, then threw her forward. She flew, for a moment, then hit ground, reflexes turning it into a controlled tumble. Not that it didn’t hurt. She stood up as quick as she could, and turned just in time to throw herself to the side, avoiding the draugr’s charging overhand by bare inches. “Dammit, AJ, snap out of it!” She tumbled to the side again, the axe cracking the cavern floor, got up, and started running. She needed a weapon, a shield, something that could actu-

Thunder. The impact from behind knocked the wind out of her and tossed her to the ground, hard. Oh Nine, that hurt. That really, really hurt. She struggled to get up, but her arms failed her, and her legs as well. Everything was spinning, her stomach was churning, and there were footsteps behind her. She managed to turn her head, forcing her eyes to focus, and cringed. The draugr was there, staring down at her with those glowing eyes, and raising its axe. “AJ!” she cried, and it hurt to speak. “Help!”

The axe stopped, high in the air, and the draugr hissed a word, one that stuck in her mind like fire. “Dir.” This was it. She was going to die.

There was a clang, and the draugr staggered forward. Moments later, AJ cannoned into it, sending it sprawling forward. She, too, stumbled to the ground, recovering a few moments before the draugr, a few precious moments that let her grab the mace she’d thrown at it. It was up, though, faster than it had any right to be, and charging at her, mouth open and hissing. She inhaled, and yelled in its face.

The draugr stumbled, its charge halted, a twisted expression of surprise and fear on its desiccated face. AJ smacked that expression off with a strike from her mace, which sent the creature stumbling to the side. A snarl on her face, she followed up with a strike to its back, then to its shoulder, spinning it around. Her third strike, though, came up short, blocked by its raised arm, and it kicked her in the chest, sending her reeling back. She barely had time to deflect the axe, and no time at all to deal with the follow-up punch, which caught her across the chin and twisted her head painfully to the side. She kicked out, acting on sheer reflex, and managed to catch the draugr on the knee, forcing it back, and opening that allowed her to smash its side with her mace; futile – the mace simply rebounded off the armor. It struck forward with the butt of the axe, knocking her back again, and then, “Fus.”

An invisible force punched her in the chest, and this time she lost her balance, landing heavily on her rear. With two kicks, the draugr sent her maces out of reach, and raised its axe. She looked up, and for the second time that day, she knew she was going to die.

There was movement behind the draugr – a flash of blue, and yellow, and red. Pinkie’s axe blade slammed into the draugr’s feet, sending it crashing to the ground, the Khajiit transferring the momentum of the sweep up, and then down. The blade struck true, right at the draugr’s neck, and the head was severed. The body went slack. The room went quiet.

The draugr’s head rolled a couple paces away, coming to a stop with the eyes facing Applejack. They glowed blue, still, though the light was flickering, and the mouth twisted into a gruesome smile. “Unslaad … Krosis,” it hissed, and the light faded. It was, finally, dead.

“Whew! He was a tough one! Good thing Pinkie landed on her feet!”

Chapter 3 - Dovahkriid

Outside. Ah, the sky was such a lovely sight. Much better than Dashie’s face, right now. Or Jackie’s, for that matter. The two girls had been all silent and mopey during the whole trip out of the Barrow, which had been a whole lot shorter because of a shortcut passage with secret doors and stuff that was up some stairs from the really big shrine with the funny markings on the wall.

Pinkie turned around and grinned a massive grin at her two companions, doing a little spin on the spot. “We made it girls! Of course, Pinkie knew we would, because nothing can beat this team, but we really, truly made it! And we even got that stone that your wizard friend wanted! Hey, hey pull it out, Pinkie wants to take a closer look at it!” Applejack rolled her eyes, but obliged, slinging her pack to the ground and taking the opportunity to sit, while Pinkie rummaged around in the contents to find the object of their quest.

The Dragonstone was a curious object – a sizeable slab of stone engraved with strange markings on both sides. On the one, what looked to be a map, perhaps of the province of Skyrim, with dots all over it. Pinkie frowned. She never really paid that much attention to maps, but those dots didn’t really seem to fit with any cities or towns. Oh well. The back of the stone was about as strange, carrying more of those marks that had been on the wall of the shrine down in the barrow, all lines and dots and stuff. It looked like writing, but she’d never seen the like before. Not ever.

“AJ?” Pinkie’s ear twitched, and she pretended to be engrossed in the stone before her.

“Yeah, Rainbow?” They were going to talk. She risked a peek. Neither of them were paying any attention to her, at all. Rainbow’s face was all angry, Applejack’s was all grim. Ooooh, this could be baaaad.

“Just what the hell happened back there?!” Oooh, she was shouting. Very much not good. Pinkie opened her mouth, and-

“I know, Rainbow. I’m sorry.” And promptly shut it again. “I froze up.”

“I’ll say. I still can’t believe Pinkie had to lick you to get you out of it.” Pinkie grinned. Applejack grimaced.

“Don’t remind me. Look, it’s a … story. Sit down, alright? It’ll make it easier.”

“Hmph. Fine.” Grumpy-wumpy Dashie-washie. They could all use some cheering up. Maybe a song? Or maybe a party. When they got back to Riverwood, of course, she couldn’t very well throw a party here!

“It goes back to when I was a little girl, about Apple Bloom’s age. We didn’t always live in Riverwood, see – we moved there when Gerdur did. She built her mill, we made our farm. But before that, I lived in a little town called Ivarstead, first stop on the way up that there mountain.” Both Rainbow and Pinkie looked up to where she was pointing. It was across the grassland in which Whiterun sat, a great spire of earth and rock that stretched up into the clouds themselves, so high, in fact, that its peak could not be seen. “It’s called the Throat of the World, and near the top there’s this temple of sorts, that people make trips to every so often, so we got a fair bit o’ traffic through there. And with those travelers came stories, and an awful lot of ‘em were about treasure in tombs and barrows.”

She paused for a moment, as if collecting her thoughts, and continued. “There’s a barrow right close to Ivarstead, so close it might as well be part of the town, really. I was always told never to go in there, because I could get trapped and they might never find me. But for, uh, reasons I’d rather not tell,” Pinkie checked, and yes, there was a blush, “I decided to go on in, once.”

Rainbow leaned forward a bit, uncrossing her arms. “And you were Bloom’s age? Man, AJ, that was stupid.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said, her tone just a bit miffed. Just a touch. “I pretty much regretted it the moment I stepped inside and saw the first corpse.”

“Wait, hold up. Let me guess. There was a boy involved, wasn’t there?”

Oooo, look at that blush! “Rainbow,” she said, through gritted teeth, “I said I didn’t want to tell, and I ain’t gonna.”

“So, yes, then.”

“Rainbow! Do you want the story or not?”

“Right, right, go ahead already.”

“Thank you. So, anyways, I went inside, and saw the bones in the walls … and the ones that still had skin. And as I went in, I kept thinkin’ about the stories about how they could get up and come after people who went stealin’ into the barrows. But none of ‘em did. I got pretty far in, like I was supposed to-“

“So it was a bet, then.”

“Rainbow.” Nice growl, AJ!

“Sorry! Go on.” Applejack sighed, and rubbed her forehead, then went on.

“So I got pretty far in, and I came up against a gate, and couldn’t go no further. So I shrugged, figured I’d done my part, and turned around to go, and there was a draugr there.”

“Wait, for real? Like, walking?”

“Uh, well, not-“

“How’d you escape? I mean those things are hard enough to take down, and you were a kid!”

“Dash!” Pinkie was glad she’d been keeping her mouth shut. AJ looked mad enough. “Would you let me finish?”

“Uh, right.”

“There was a draugr there. I panicked, and ran, down a side passage I guess, because it sure wasn’t the way back out. I came to a dead end, and when I turned around, I saw the draugr comin’ after me, and I just fainted dead away. Woke up back at home, with ma and pa lookin’ worried and relieved at the same time. Was told later that it was all a prank, that one o’ the other kids had been movin’ that corpse around like it were alive.”

Everyone was silent for a bit, Rainbow’s eyes turning thoughtful. “That’s just plain mean.” So super-duper mean. Whatever greeny meanie pants had done that needed a serious party. Oh, but that was when AJ was a kid. Maybe they’d grown out of it!

“Yeah. Yeah it was. I had nightmares for weeks. Finally got myself convinced that they just weren’t real. But then, in there …”

“They were real.” Whoops, she’d talked. Oh well. They probably knew she’d been listening.

AJ just nodded. “Yeah. And I just froze up. It ain’t no real excuse, though. I almost got us killed with my silly fears.”

“Silly Jackie, that’s not silly! You just never learned to laugh at them!”

Both of the other girls stared at her, as if she’d grown another head. “Wait, what?”

“Pinkie was a scaredy-kitten. Pinkie knows, it’s hard to believe! But Pinkie was scared of everything, even of her own shadow sometimes! Then one day Granny taught her how to laugh at the scary things, because really, when you think about them, they’re kind of funny! Like the draugr: the way they walk and how their skin is all wrinkled, and what are those girl ones thinking, wearing that armor? It’s like they’re trying to be sexy or something, and that’s just bleah!” They were still looking at her strangely, but the corners of Dash’s mouth were twitching upward.

“Granny also said this, and Pinkie always took it to heart. She said, ‘Pinkie, the scariest monster in all the world can never beat a smile. The toughest, grimmest warrior will always falter when he sees that his opponent wears a grin. So smile, Pinkie, and laugh, and nothing will ever be scarier than you.’”

She grinned at them both, and they shared another look. “That’s actually a pretty good idea there, Pinks,” Dash said.

Applejack nodded, adding, “It also explains an awful lot,” under her breath.

“Y’know, AJ, you did snap out of it at the end there, and kind of saved my life. So, no harm done, really. Just, uh, try not freeze up again?”

The Nord chuckled. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

-oOo-

The Sleeping Giant was packed that night, nearly the whole town of Riverwood having gathered to toast the return of the questing trio. Applejack had tried to downplay the whole thing, but Alvor had had none of it. “We didn’t get a chance to celebrate when you returned with the guards, and now you’ve taught bandits not to steal from us! You’re going to the party, niece, and no mistake.”

So there they were, everyone enjoying themselves on food cooked by the inn’s rather gruff barman, the cost of the party largely footed by the Riverwood Trader. AJ sipped at her mead, and continued her story, eyes flicking over to Rainbow Dash every so often to ensure she wasn’t listening. It was at her expense, after all.

“So y’know how Big Macintosh is, gets all huggy when he’s been worried, right?” Hilde nodded. “So o’ course the first thing he does when I get back is give me a big ol’ bear hug. I guess Rainbow finds this funny or somethin’, cause she starts snickering. Big Mac looks down at me, and gives me a wink, then walks over to Rainbow and offers his hand. She takes it, and then instead of givin’ her a handshake, he pulls her into a bear hug of her very own, and forces her face into his chest.”

“No!” gasped the old woman.

“Yes! So she’s strugglin’, and I think cursin’, but everything she’s sayin’ is muffled because, you know, her face in his chest. Then Pinkie,” she pointed out the Khajiit, who was busy tuning up a lute, “says, ‘Awww, that’s so sweet! Pinkie wants in!’ And she goes and hugs them both.” Hilde blinked, imagining the scene. “So Rainbow is now sandwiched between Pinkie and Big Mac, and I swear I almost died from laughin’. You should’ve seen her face when they finally let her go. It was just about as red as her hair.” Hilde was giggling, hand over her mouth, and AJ had a big goofy grin on her face. “I swear I never knew he had that kind o’ humor.”

Rainbow had her own captive audience, in the form of three small children. Apple Bloom, Dorthe, and Frodnar were each listening with rapt attention, the two little girls flanking the boy. “So as if bandits and poison dart traps were enough, the next thing we run into is spiders.” The girls squealed. Frodnar, of course, just grinned. “And I’m not talking about the tiny little house spiders that you can just stomp on, either. These spiders were as big as your dog, and they were angry. Of course, we were on the watch for ‘em, because of all the webs. So AJ and I pulled out our bows, and when we spotted one …”

“You shot it?” asked Apple Bloom.

“You got it, squirt. You gotta make sure to aim right for the middle of their eyes, or the arrows might not stick in right. Now, the whole time, we’re hearing this guy calling out for help, and he sounds like he’s getting really close. So we pick up the pace a little, and then we come to this wide-open room, that’s all covered in cobwebs, and on the other side of it, stuck in huge amount of webs, is a dark elf, and it turns out he’s the one who’s been shouting. So I take a step forward, when Pinkie shouts ‘Look out!’ and then a spider drops down from the ceiling. And here’s the thing. Those spiders that are the size of your dog?” The kids leaned forward, nodding. “They’re tiny compared to this thing. This spider is, like, the size of a wagon.” At this, the kids gave a collective gasp, Dorthe putting her hands over her mouth. “I’m too close to shoot at it, so I drop my bow and pull out my daggers, and charge in, and so does AJ. But that spider was tough, I don’t mind telling you. First thing it does is spit this globby ball of green nastiness right at my head!”

Apple Bloom pulled a face, Dorthe said, “Ew,” and Frodnar said, “Cool!”

“I ducked it, of course, because nothing’s faster than I am, and stabbed it, right in the leg. But like I said, it was tough, and it just knocks me away, and then slams AJ back before she can really get a good swing at it, either. Now, real quick, take a look at Pinkie, there.” The three children obliged. “Tell me what you think of her.”

Apple Bloom was the first to speak up. “She’s really nice!”

“My daddy says that cats are mostly all thieves and that you need to keep an eye on ‘em,” said Frodnar. Rainbow chuckled.

“He’s not wrong, but keep in mind that ‘mostly’ bit, kid.”

Dorthe took the longest to speak, her eyes narrowed. “She’s got muscles, kind of like Aunt AJ, and Uncle Macintosh, and my daddy.”

Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “Good eye, kid. Don’t let the whole cute and fuzzy thing fool you: that right there,” she said, pointing to the darkly colored and intricately engraved battleaxe propped on the wall behind the Khajiit, “is her weapon.” The kids ooo’ed appreciatively. “So of course, she’s the first one to do any real damage to the spider. How she got behind it, I couldn’t see, but she brought that axe down and, spack! Off came one of its legs. You should have heard that thing screech! It whipped itself right around, and smacked Pinkie right into a wall. But I was back up, and so was AJ, and it had just opened up its back to us! So AJ goes in and takes a couple smacks at its big ol’ butt,” and the kids all giggled, “and her maces start sinking right in. Me, I figured I’ve gotta get to where I can get my daggers into a weak spot, so I jumped on top of it.”

She paused letting the kids get that image in their minds, and once their expressions were appropriately awed, she continued. “It starts bucking like a crazy horse, but I’m too good for it to shake me off, especially with AJ still wailin’ on it and generally being a huge distraction. It did manage to pitch me forward,” she said, miming herself falling forward onto its back with her hands, “but that just got me closer to its head, which is exactly what I wanted. You know what I did next?”

The kids shook their heads, eyes wide. “I stabbed it in the face. Yep, put both of my daggers right into its ugly mug. And it went completely wild. I had to jump off, it was going so crazy, and then we all just watched as it twitched itself to death.”

Pinkie struck a chord, and nodded, satisfied with the sound. The local bard was in a funk, because his sweetheart had given him a major tongue-lashing. Served Sven right, though, for writing that meany meany pants letter. It also meant that she, Pinkie, could do her thing! With the lute properly tuned, she strummed a quick, jaunty tune, drawing everyone’s attention. “Alright, everybody! This is supposed to be a party, and it’s not a party unless there’s dancing!”

She immediately launched into a foot-stomping tune, and before long the celebrators had a space cleared in the inn’s common room and a few couples were on the floor. Alvor and Sigrid were first among them, with Hod and Gerdur, who owned the mill, not far behind. Given the limited space, the dancers rotated, couples and individuals alike taking turns on the floor. Big Macintosh was persuaded to take the floor, and proceeded to give Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Apple Bloom, Dorthe, Camilla, and pretty much every single woman in the town a dance, before finally claiming the need to rest and setting himself down for the rest of the evening. Sven was persuaded to play a few rounds, joining Pinkie with a drum and taking over completely for a couple songs so that she could dance as well. And, of course, there was mead.

“AJ. AJ. AJ.” Someone was poking her. Oh, it was Rainbow.

“What?”

“You’re drunk.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes! Yes you are. You are, like, sooooo drunk.”

“You … you take that back. Apples don’t get drunk. We hold our liquor.”

“No, like, you gotta be drunk, or that means I’m the only one who’s drunk, and that’s no fun. No fun being drunk alone.”

She considered this for a moment, eyes wandering across the night sky, not really paying attention to much of anything. “Yeah okay, I guess I’m drunk.”

“Hooray!” Rainbow threw her arms in to the air, did a surprisingly graceful pirhouette, and fell to the ground, landing close to where Applejack was lying. “Always better to be drunk together.”

“Mmmm.”

Rainbow broke the silence a few moments later. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“Oh … nothin’.”

“Pfffft.”

“What?”

“Liiiiar. Liar. As Pinkie would say, lying liar liar-pants.”

“I ain’t a liar!”

“Yes you are. You said nothin’, and I know you’re thinkin’ about somethin’. Nobody just lies down on the grass while being drunk and thinks about nothin’.”

“Well maybe I’m too drunk to think.”

“Pfffft.”

“What?”

“That only happens when you pass out. Like, lights out, puking up your guts, killer headache in the mornin’. You are not that drunk. Come oooooon, spiiiiill. I wanna know.”

“You get pushy when you’re drunk.”

“Hey, I resent that! I’m always pushy.”

AJ snickered. “Ha! Made you laugh. Okay, now you have to tell me.”

“Alright, alright! I was just thinkin’ about, well …” She fell silent, brow furrowing. She was a little drunk, she had to admit. Not as drunk as Rainbow seemed to be, but it was making her head foggy, and just a little hard to think. “I was thinkin’, about dragons.”

Rainbow shuddered. “Dragons.”

“Yeah. Like, they’re myths, right? They all died a real long time ago, and nobody’s seen one, ever, since before Talos. But now all the sudden they’re everywhere, or somethin’. Or at least there’s one who’s everywhere.”

“Big black bastard son of a-“

“So I’m wonderin’ why now. And why here. I mean, why Helgen?”

“Dunno. ‘S weird. Whole thing.”

“Though, thinkin’ ‘bout it, that dragon kinda saved your life.”

Rainbow snorted. “Yeah, I’ll make real sure to thank him for that. ‘Heeeey, Mister big, black, and ugly! Totally just wanna thank you for savin’ my life back there! It was really great how you tried to burn me alive after, too! That was tops!”

“Heh. Still, if he hadn’t shown up, then you’d be kind of headless right now.”

Rainbow groaned. “Just my luck, you’re a morbid drunk. Where’s Pinkie?”

“Right here!” They both started, looking at the source of the voice. Somewhere in their chatter, the khajiit had joined them, lying down with her face to the stars and her head towards theirs.

“Huh. Oh well, saves me trying to get up. Don’t think I can.” They all fell silent, then, each one looking skyward.

It didn’t last long. “Hey Pinkie. Pinkie. Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“Mudcrabs.”

“What?”

“Mudcrabs? Why mudcrabs?” wondered Applejack.

“They’re like these little moving mounds of dirt and mud with claws that hide in riverbeds and jump out and pinch your feet if you get too close.”

“Uh, yeah, we know,” said Rainbow. “It’s annoying.”

“So Pinkie was wondering who came up with them. And also if they’d be good in a stew.”

“Huh.”

They fell silent again. And then, “This is nice,” said three voices in unison. They all three shared a glance, and giggled.

-oOo-

“Halt!” The three women pulled up short, staring at the guard. He narrowed his eyes at them. “I told you before. The city is closed to visitors due to the dragon attacks.”

The blonde slapped her forehead. “Oh, not this again!” the redhead groaned, and stomped up to get in his face. She had interesting eyes, he noted. Not often you saw any shade of red in eyes that weren’t elven. “Look, pal, we’re on business for the Jarl,” she said, accentuating the last three words by drawing them out. “Well, more like his wizard, but we’re expected at the palace.”

“Oh, I know,” he said. She blinked, and looked confused.

“Then what’s the problem?”

He pointed. The Khajiit’s eyes widened. “She is not on business for the Jarl, and she’s with that caravan. She can’t come in.”

They stared at him, looks of incredulity on the human’s faces, a kind of sad resignation on the Khajiit’s. The Imperial was quick to switch to anger. “What?! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! Look, pal, she’s with us! I mean, if she hadn’t been with us we wouldn’t have even gotten back here! And now you’re gonna say that she can’t come in because she’s with the caravan? That makes no sense!”

He stared her down. He might have backed off the first time, but he was no coward. “The Khajiit are not allowed inside the walls on suspicion of trafficking in skooma. They should be grateful we allow them to camp as close as we do.”

“But she’s not with the caravan, she’s with us!”

He shook his head. “Makes no difference. You two are welcome inside. She is not.”

Rainbow turned away with a cry of frustration, stomping back over to her two friends. Of all the stupid, idiotic, straight-up freaking unbelievably unawesome things to have happen! No way was one of her friends gonna be kept out of a city just because she was a cat. There were plenty of awesome cats! Most of them fine upstanding citizens!

“Alright, so we gotta figure out a way to sneak her in,” she said the moment she was close enough to whisper and not talk. AJ looked at her askance.

“Really?”

“What, you want to just leave her out here?”

“No, sugarcube, I don’t, but it’s broad daylight and there’s not a street in there that doesn’t have a guard or seven patrolling it. She couldn’t walk with us, and that just defeats the purpose, don’t it?”

“Well we gotta do something! Maybe we could get her over the back wall?”

Whatever Applejack might have said in response was interrupted by fuzzy paws over their mouths. “Girls! It’s okay. Pinkie will be fine.” The Khajiit did not look quite like her usual cheerful self, but she was still smiling.

“You sure, sugar cube?” Pinkie winked at her.

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” she said, her voice suddenly a lot louder. “Pinkie will be just fine,” she continued, her expression suddenly entirely forlorn, her mane seemingly hanging just a little flatter than it usually did. “Pinkie will just wait out here. Alone. With just the cold stone for company.”

AJ and Rainbow shared a glance. This wasn’t exactly making them feel better. “Uh, Pinkie-”

“Will be fine! She said so. It’ll be dark and cold and she’ll be all alone,” she said, eyes staring directly at the guard, “but Pinkie is used to that. You girls go on ahead.” She turned them both around and pushed them toward the door. They both opened their mouths to protest. “No! You go. Pinkie will stay!”

With words and glares, she coaxed them through the gate, and waited for it to close. The moment it had, her determined expression deflated back into a sad one, and she turned away, shoulders slumped. The guard shifted uncomfortably, then did a double-take. She had produced a rolled up mat from her pack, and was laying it out on the ground, not three paces away from his post.

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting, of course!”

“Here?”

She looked up at him, eyes almost impossibly wide, and glistening. “You mean,” she started, voice quivering, “you mean that Pinkie can’t wait for her friends?”

He blinked, mind suddenly derailed. Somehow, the sight of this particular cat looking so dejected was almost the saddest thing he’d seen. “No! No, there’s fine. Just … fine.”

“Oh.” Well, she didn’t look like she was going to cry anymore, at least, which was an improvement. Only now she had a lute in hand, and looked to be gearing up to sing. He braced himself.

“Alone again,” she sang, voice quavering, her lute giving a soulful twang. “Alone again, once again I’m on my own.” He winced, and reached for his helmet, hoping that it might muffle the heart-wrenching sound. “Alone again, alone again, once again my friends have flown.” It did not.

“My own again, my own again, once again my fate is mine.” Well that sounded better. But every eye was on him, still, and though he couldn’t see the expressions of his fellow guards, he could imagine them. “My own again, my own again, once again for friends I pine.” Oh gods.

“Enough!” he nearly shouted, and she immediately stopped strumming, looking up at him with impossibly wide and glistening eyes. “Look, just go on in already.” And she was hugging him. Wonderful. This would be the talk of the barracks for weeks. “I said go in, cat, so go, before I arrest you for assault.”

“Okey dokey lokie!”

“Okay, stop.” Applejack halted in her tracks, turning around to face her companion. They stood there silent, just looking at each other, until finally, “We can’t just leave her there.”

Applejack sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I don’t like it any more than you do, Rainbow, but I don’t see what we can do. The best chance is probably to petition the Jarl. He seems a reasonable sort, he’d probably make an exception.”

Rainbow crossed her arms. “You saw how broken up she was.”

“Rainbow, this is Pinkie we’re talking about. When have you seen her actually, truly sad about anything?”

“Well it’s not like we’ve known her all that long. And also that’s exactly the problem! This is the first time she’s actually looked sad, and I think she might actually be sad, and we can’t leave her there.” Rainbow punctuated the end of her statement by poking AJ in the chest, ignoring that her iron breastplate meant she couldn’t actually feel it. “Cats are a little screwy to begin with, and Pinkie’s on a whole different level. Who knows what she’ll do?”

Applejack sighed, and moved over to the side of the road, looking up towards Dragonsreach. It was a good point, and honestly, leaving the Khajiit alone outside the gate was just about tearing her up - given the number of times Pinkie had saved her life, this only made sense. Plus, she mad a very good traveling companion. “How about this: I’ll go on up and plead the case, so she can enter the city. Hopefully. You go and keep her company. Fair?”

Rainbow considered for a moment. “Fair.”

“What’s fair?”

Both women turned around quickly, Rainbow’s jaw going slack. “Pinkie?” said Applejack, incredulous. “What … how did you get in?”

The cat smiled, her eyes almost closing with the sheer size of her grin. “Oh, Pinkie sang a song!”

“A song,” AJ deadpanned. “The guard let you in for a song.”

“Not for a song, because of a song. It was a very sad song,” she replied, nodding enthusiastically.

AJ and Rainbow shared a glance. They’d been doing that a lot since Pinkie joined them. “You know what,” said Rainbow, “I’m okay with this. To the palace!”

“To the palace!”

-oOo-

Dragonsreach was in a panic; or rather, an organized chaos. The hall’s long tables had been cleared of their usual array of dishes of goblets, replaced by a series of maps. Guards and guard captains gathered around the maps, the captains doing most of the talking, the guards mostly nodding their heads at appropriate times. The reining expressions were those of worry and grim determination.

The returning Barrow delvers looked around them, bemused by the activity. Pinkie was the first to speak. “Do you think they’re planning a party?”

“Looks more like they’re planning for war,” Applejack replied, scanning the crowd for anyone she knew. “I wonder what happened? The city outside looked normal.”

Rainbow shook her head. “We won’t find anything out just standing here. Come on, let’s go see Farengar and give him his stone.”

The wizard’s office, however, proved empty. Rainbow threw her hands in frustration. “Oh, for the love of Talos! Look at this! I mean, there’s not even a note!”

“You are looking for Farengar?” All three women turned around at the same time, and the speaker took a startled step backwards, her hand reaching up and tugging at the cowl she wore, to better obscure her face. Applejack narrowed her eyes, instantly suspicious.

“Yes. We have business with him. Who are you?” The other woman hesitated, and Pinkie took a step forward and stuck her face almost directly into the cowl. The woman took a startled step back, and Pinkie followed, ears twitching. For just a short, short moment everything was still.

Then Pinkie giggled, and stepped back. “You smell good! Like pine needles!”

The cowled woman was silent, her mouth hanging slightly open. Applejack and Rainbow glanced at each other, and Rainbow shrugged. The Nord rolled her eyes, and stepped forward, extending a hand. “Sorry about that. Pinkie’s a touch odd, but she’s good people. Don’t mind her.”

The woman shut her mouth, and took the proffered hand, shaking it firmly. “I’m an associate of Farengar’s, and I suspect you’re the folks he sent to retrieve the Dragonstone I informed him of.” Her voice was deeper, suddenly, and raspy, as if she’d gone hoarse. Applejack’s suspicious instincts twitched again.

“Aye, that we are. We’ve come to deliver it. Where is the wizard, anyway?”

The woman pointed to the stairs that led to the upper parts of the palace. “In conference with the Jarl.” She was silent for a moment, head moving slightly. “Actually, you could likely be of use to them. Come, I will take you there.” She turned on her heel, and started walking. The others followed.

The top of the stairs opened into a vaulted room, clearly another hall. The space had been converted into a war room, and the Jarl, his housecarl, and his wizard were all gathered around a table, discussing something in tempered voices. Irileth, ever alert, was the first to see them, and called the others attention to the approaching group. Farengar stepped forward, his expression eager. “You return! Do you have the dragonstone?”

“Yes,” Applejack said, presenting the pelt-wrapped stone to him. “It turns out the legends of the draugr are true, by the way. It wasn’t easy to get.”

The wizard raised an eyebrow, taking the stone and unwrapping it. “Fascinating. It looks like a map, of some sort … and writing! In the dragon language!”

“The what now?” Rainbow asked, brow furrowing.

“The dragon tongue! This is, truly, a wondrous find!” Farengar looked ecstatic, already tracing the lines of the writing. “I had only hoped it actually existed.” Irileth cleared her throat, pointedly, and the wizard jumped. “Oh, but I forget myself. I will have to work on this later. There is an actual dragon to deal with!”

“Say what? Where?” Applejack asked, worry rising up within her.

“The western watchtower,” the Jarl said, motioning for them to come closer. “One of the posted guards returned here not long before you. It had not attacked when he left, but now …” he trailed off, eyes on Rainbow Dash. “You have already done much for us, and I would reward you. But this is a crisis we face. Farengar’s knowledge of dragons comes from books and lore; yours, my dear, comes from an actual encounter.” Rainbow shuddered, the images of Helgen rising unbidden in her mind. “You, better than any of us, know the true danger of a dragon. You would be doing us a great, great service if you went with those who go to face the beast.”

Rainbow stared, her mind reeling. Face a dragon. Willingly. Go up against and try to kill the unkillable. Oh no. No no no no no-

There was a hand on her shoulder. She looked over, and found herself looking into Applejack’s eyes. They were very green, she noticed. “I’m with you. So’s Pinkie. Right?” The Khajiit nodded her head vigorously, her face sporting a grin. “If we could actually fight it, then … that’d give a lot of people a whole lot of hope.”

Rainbow blinked. Crap. This was just like the meeting in Riverwood. As much as she did not want to do this, she couldn’t say no. Not now. Slowly, a frown on her face, she nodded. “Yeah. Alright. But you’re sending your best, right?” she said to the Jarl, her tone aggressive.

“Of course he is,” Irileth retorted. “I will be personally leading the force. Farengar, you stay here,” she ordered, raising a hand to cut the wizard’s objections off. “If we should fail, your knowledge will become doubly critical. You three - make your preparations and be at the gate within the hour. We must make haste.” Her orders given, the dark elf left, striding purposefully down the stairs.

“I have not forgotten what you have already done for Whiterun,” the Jarl said, “and I always reward good service. Divines willing, should we survive this crisis, you will be honored.”

Applejack bowed, and the other two took their cue from her.

-oOo-

The tramp of boots upon stone came to a sudden and abrupt halt. At the head of the column of yellow-garbed soldiers, Irileth, attired in her usual plain leathers, her only concession to Skyrim’s chill a cloak about her shoulders, had held up a hand to signal a stop. Wordlessly, she gestured to the three who walked beside her, and they moved to a nearby vantage point.

The view was a grim one. The tower was broken, the stone bridge that led inside lying, ruined, some feet away from where it should have been. Smoke poured from the gaping hole in its side, and joining the cast-offs of the fires that burned around the tower’s base. Scorch marks littered both ground and stone, and there was nary a soul to be seen. Rainbow shuddered, tugging at the fur lining of her bracers. So much like Helgen.

“No sign of the dragon,” Irileth said, eyes sweeping the skies. “It might be gone … but keep your eyes open. Skjol, Hlar!” she barked, the two guards she named stepping forward. “You’re with me. The rest of you, fan out! Look for any signs of survivors! You three, check around the tower base.” Applejack, Rainbow, and Pinkie nodded, and the housecarl’s orders were followed.

Rainbow stood before the broken remnants of the watchtower’s bridge. The half still semi-attached to the tower itself provided its own makeshift ramp up to the tower’s entrance, and she took a tentative step onto the stone. “Hey! Anyone alive in there?”

A helmeted head poked out from the doorway, eyes wide. The tower guard’s face was near covered in soot, but he seemed unharmed. Rainbow grinned, and took another step. “No!” he cried, and she stopped, confused. “Go back! Get out of here! The dragon’s not gone!”

She blanched. “What?”

“Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it! Get out of here, before it returns!”

From behind her came a bellow, carried on the chill north wind - a strange, alien cry. All of a sudden, she was back in Helgen, staring into the eyes of a great, black beast, while the fires raged around her. It opened its mouth, and she screamed.

Instinct put her feet in motion, and led her to cover, underneath the broken bridge in front of her. A peculiar whine filled the air, followed by a dull roar, and a sudden thump, just above her. The stone around her jumped, as sound vanished, small rocks and powder raining down upon her. The fringes of the blast curled around the edges of the stone, long fingers of flame reaching for her. She hunched down, cowering, and the flames receded. The heat did not.

Applejack spat a curse that would have earned her a caning from Granny, and brought her bow to the ready. The dragon had already passed by, the wind of its passage almost enough to make her stumble. How in Oblivion were they supposed to hit something that could move that fast? Searching around wildly, she found the creature, already looping around for another pass. Arrows flew into the sky, but none made contact.

The dragon finished its loop, opened its mouth, and spewed forth a veritable torrent of flame, scorching a trail across the ground. The screams of a hapless guard reached her ears, and she grimaced. The dragon was coming towards her, however, which gave her a shot. She drew her bow, took a split second to aim, and released. The shaft zipped through the air, struck the dragon right in the head, and spun away harmlessly. Cursing again, she ran to the side, just barely avoiding the snatching talons. This was going to be hard.

A lightning bolt cracked over her head, causing her to jump. She whirled around to find Irileth muttering to herself, blue-white lightning arcing from the energy she held in the palm of her hand. The dark elf raced past her, already chasing the dragon, and she watched her go. The housecarl knew magic. Well. That would help.

A flash of color caught her eye, and she turned just in time to spot Pinkie disappearing inside the tower. Where was she … wait, where was Rainbow? She’d ducked under the bridge, but she should have gotten out by now! Fear gripped her chest, and she ran, coming to a sliding stop where she’d seen Rainbow disappear.

The Imperial was curled into a ball, shivering, face covered by her hands. “Oh, Stendarr help me,” AJ murmured, and moved to Rainbow’s side. She put a hand on the woman’s shoulder, and shook her. “Rainbow. Come on. Snap out of it.”

“Can’t win. Too strong.”

“We can’t know that unless we try. Come on now, you’re braver than this.” Silence. “You leaped onto a giant spider’s back, Rainbow. And then you stabbed it in the face. Come on.” Silence. But the the woman was peeking at her from between her fingers. AJ smiled at her. “Surely,” she said, lowering her voice, “the great Rainbow Dash ain’t gonna die like this? Cowering under a bridge?” The Imperial was glaring at her. Good. Get her angry, and she’d-

A rush of moist air blew across her face, and she looked up in dawning horror. The dragon’s snout had filled the other side of the arch, and it was smiling. The lips peeled back, displaying the rows of wickedly sharp teeth, and, for a split second, she froze. Her ears caught the beginnings of a word, and she did the first thing that came to mind: she threw herself down in front of her friend.

A blast of killing frost washed over and around her, sailing out the other side of the bridge. Pain wracked her body, but she closed her eyes, did not move. Eventually, the assault ceased. She raised her head, painfully, and opened frost-rimed lids. Wide, fuchsia eyes stared back into hers, and she grinned. They were alive. Thank Stendarr, they were alive.

She rolled over, groaning in pain, and fumbling for her belt. Rainbow’s hands found the bottle she had stashed there before she could, and, trembling, uncorked it and brought the reddish to the Nord’s blue lips. The concoction burned, going down, but nigh instantly she could feel the warmth spreading, chasing away the cold that managed to work its way inside. “Thanks,” she said, struggling to her feet.

Rainbow just shook her head, mutely, and helped her up. It was then that the words coming from outside filtered their way through the clearing haze. “That’s right! Come on up and face the Pinkie, you overgrown lizard! Pinkie’s axe wants a taste! It doesn’t think you’re a real dragon, you son of a motherless goat! Yeah! Come on! Come on!” The women looked at each other, and scrambled out from under the bridge.

The dragon had climbed the tower, its hind legs using the gaping hole as a footrest, its front claws gripping the parapet. It was looking down at something up on top of the tower, and AJ knew immediately what that was. She scrambled for her bow, Rainbow doing the same, and ran to get a better shot. The dragon laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. “You are brave,” it said, its voice primal and ancient. “Balaan hokoron. Your defeat brings me honor.” It breathed in. Applejack and Rainbow released their arrows. An axeblade flashed in the sunlight. A lightning bolt rent the air.

The axeblade bit into the dragon’s jaw, snapping its mouth shut. The arrows struck home in the membrane of its wing, causing it flinch. The lightning limned its form for a fraction of a second, drawing a grunt of surprise and pain. The dragon slipped, its hind legs losing their purchase, and it fell against the tower’s side. Already weakened, the stone gave way, and the beast came down amidst an avalanche of rubble, slamming into the ground with a resounding crash.

The battlefield fell silent. The women readied arrows, and trained their sights on the dragon. But it lay there, unmoving, chunks of the tower strewn across its form. The seconds ticked by, and the guards regrouped, slowly gathering around the dragon, but maintaining a respectful distance. Finally, AJ lowered her bow. “I guess that’s it.”

The dragon shifted, and everyone took a step back, bows at the ready once more. The creature struggled to its feet, dust and stone falling from its back, and shook itself, the motion starting with its head and traveling down its length. Blinking, it took in the scene before – a score of arrows trained on its body, and arcane lightning in the hands of the Dunmer leader. “Brit Grah!” the dragon crowed, flaring its wings. The guards fired, their arrows bouncing off the dragon’s hide, with only a few finding purchase in cracks or in wings. Another bolt from Irileth wreathed it in lightning, but the creature did not flinch. Instead, it spoke.

She could not catch the word, but the sound of it washed over her, full of power. A stream of flame burst forth from the dragon’s open mouth, sweeping across the line of guards, and she closed her mind to their screams, aiming her arrow for the dragon’s eye. Two shafts flew, Rainbow being of same mind as her, and found purchase in the dragon’s flesh. It bellowed, the killing stream of flame cut off, and charged forward, trampling a guard underfoot and bulling through another bolt of lightning.

Three guards charged in, trading bows for sword, axe, and shield. The dragon lashed out with its wings, sending two of them flying, and grunted as the third’s axe bit in its haunch. A lash of its tail knocked him off his feet, and the dragon turned, laughing once more. “Brit! I had forgotten what fine sport you mortals make!”

AJ’s mace cracked it in the jaw, and it snorted, startled, turning its head to bring the Nord into view. She slipped forward, however, staying on its blinded side, and struck with all her might at the wing joint. Once again, the dragon grunted, this time retaliating with a forward bash of the wing, but she was moving still, ducking beneath its neck as it tried to locate her. Lightning snapped once more, and arrows sank into its wings, the guards choosing now to stay out of the melee, and Rainbow aiming for where its armor was weakest.

AJ’s maces beat into its neck, but it ignored her, now, flaring its wings and flapping, once. The rush of air knocked her off-balance, and with a second wingbeat, the dragon took a prodigious backwards leap. “A valiant effort, mortal,” it said, with what looked like a grin on its face. “You will know honor!” She could feel the stirrings of power this time, even before it formed the word. Instinct pitched her to the ground, the blast of frost passing over her prone form. Even though she had escaped the worst of it, the painful cold washed over her exposed back, and she cried out.

The assault cut off, and she rolled to the side, trying to make her legs work. A high-pitched yowl caught her attention, just in time to see booted feet fly past her. She sat up, startled, in time to see Pinkie slam her axe-blade into the dragon’s snout. It did not stick, but its enchantment triggered all the same, and coated the dragon’s snout in frost. It bellowed in surprise, shaking its head, and the Khajiit stepped to side as another round of arrows pelted its hide, taking another swing at its neck. The blade struck, and stuck, and the rime of frost began its rapid spread.

The dragon whipped its head to the side, knocking Pinkie on her back. As lightning covered it for the fourth time, it moved to the side, twisting its neck to look at the fallen Khajiit, and raised a limb. Applejack stumbled to her feet, eyes widening in horror as the clawed leg descended. She could not attack from where she was. She could do nothing but yell.

The dragon startled, and its leg came down hard upon her friend. The Khajiit’s cry pierced her like an arrow to the heart, and she charged, the pain in her legs forgotten. Her yell turned to a scream of rage, and her maces crashed into the dragon’s nose, tearing through the skin. The beast whipped its head up, out of range of her strikes, so she threw her mace. The head of the weapon stuck into the dragon’s throat, and it grunted, stepping back.

Its mouth opened. She felt the stirrings of another word, and dove to the side, the blast of flame missing her by inches. Rolling to her feet, she charged back in, slamming her remaining mace’s head into the dragon’s good eye. Blinded, it howled in pain and rage, backing away yet further. She heard a yell from behind the dragon, a shifting of its wings revealed Irileth, sinking her sword into its haunch, and grasping the hilt with a lightning-charged hand.

The lightning course not just over the dragon, now, but through it, arcing from tooth to tooth as it opened its mouth in a silent scream. An arrow thudded into of the roof its mouth, and she was struck by inspiration. Taking the haft of Pinkie’s axe, she pulled it from the dragon’s neck, and staggered back, surprised by the weight of it. Catching herself, she hefted it, stepped forward, and swung.

Her aim was off, but the blade was long, and it sheared through the skin of the dragon’s cheek with ease, lodging itself in the beast’s jawbone. Irileth’s magic ceased, and the dragon attempted to close its mouth, teeth grinding on the enchanted axe, the shaking of its head pulling the haft from AJ’s hands. She fell backwards, and Rainbow ran past her, daggers in hand. The Imperial vaulted onto the dragon’s neck, somehow keeping her balance despite its trashing, and slammed her daggers into the base its skull, right where the neck connected to the head. Almost instantly, the thrashing ceased, the dragon’s head falling to the ground.

It opened its bruised eye, the bloody pupil focusing, for a moment, on Applejack, and widening. “Dovahkiin! Niid!” the dragon groaned, the word muffled by the axe in its cheek, but clear, nonetheless. The light faded from its eye, and its head slumped to the side, its whole body going limp. It was dead.

AJ scrambled her way across the ground to where Pinkie lay, choking back a cry at the sight. Bone was showing through the skin of the cat’s legs, and deep gashes crossed her torso, but her eyes were open, and she was breathing. “Pinkie,” she said, and her friend smiled at her.

“We did it!” she said, her voice pained, but still chipper. “We make a good team. Not even a dragon can beat us.”

“Don’t talk, Pinkie,” AJ managed to choke out, her fingers fumbling at her belt for a potion bottle. The Khajiit nodded, and laid her down, closing her eyes. Potion in hand, AJ removed the stopper and sloshed the healing liquid onto the cat’s gashes. Almost instantly, the stuff went to work, turning the raw mess into something recognizable.

“Applejack! Run!” She looked up to find Rainbow, and got no further than the dragon’s corpse. Her eyes widened – the whole thing was going up in some kind of eldritch flame, holes appearing in the skin as the fires spread. The golden smoke gathered into a hazy fog above the corpse, roiling with energy and power. “Get out of there! It’s gonna blow!” Applejack did the first thing that came to mind – she covered Pinkie with her own body and closed her eyes, bracing herself for the impact.

But none came. Instead, she felt only the rushing of air, and a warmth overtaking her. Opening her eyes, she found herself engulfed in the same golden haze that was rising off the dragon, a tingling sensation moving over her skin. Pinkie was untouched.

She threw herself off the cat, scrambling to put distance between herself, the dragon, and her friend, determined that whatever final revenge it had for her would not affect anyone else. The dull roar in her ears grew stronger the farther she got, and she could feel the haze seeping into her. She risked a glance back, and saw a massive wave of power coming straight for her. This was it. She was done. “’Bye, Bloom,” she whispered, and the wave hit.

She fell to the ground, eyes stuck wide open. Words she could not recognize roared in her head, deafening her, as the world in front of her spun with broken and scattered images: trees, oceans, mountains, towns, fire, snow, wings, people, arrows, swords, faces, blood, flesh, teeth. Emotions flooded through her, jumbled and incoherent: anger, pride, surprise, arrogance, pain, glee, and desire, roiling over and over each other, and finally fading in the face of one, overwhelming feeling – terror.

The terror paralyzed her, and words and images faded in the face of its overwhelming cry. Everything fled, until there was only silence, until there was only darkness, until there was only the fear. And once there was nothing but the fear, that faded as well, leaving her in a soundless, empty void.

Or almost soundless. She could hear a heartbeat, faint, but growing louder with each beat. With it came the image of that word she had found in the barrow, clear in her mind along with its meaning. There was something with it, she thought, indistinct in the background, important concepts, but ones she could not yet fathom. This one, though, she could.

Fus. Force. Not strength, nor power, nor coercion - just force, pure and simple.

She opened her eyes, and immediately set to blinking away the blur that seemed to have overtaken the world. When she could see clearly, her vision was filled with Rainbow’s relieved face. “I’m fine,” she muttered, and the redhead nodded, took her hand and helped to her feet. Instantly, the world was spinning, and she nearly fell, Rainbow just managing to catch her.

“Okay, that’s not ‘fine.’ And holy Nine you way a ton,” the redhead said, straining to keep her upright.

“It’s the armor. And I’m fine. Just dizzy. It’s goin’ away, see?” AJ said, managing to straighten up. The world was, in fact, spinning far less quickly, her dizziness receding along with the pain in her head that she was just now really noticing. “Who else got hit? Anyone?”

Rainbow shook her head. “Dragon didn’t explode. It just … burned up, and entered you. Or something. I don’t know how to say it, really - it was just plain weird. Take a look,” she said, pointing. “Nothing’s left but bones and a few scraps of skin.”

Applejack goggled. Rainbow was dead right - where once had been a fully-fleshed dragon, there was a skeleton, a few unburned patches of skin hanging on the bones. “What in all …” She shook her head. There was something far more important to worry about. “Pinkie. How’s Pinkie?”

“Right there.” AJ turned, following Rainbow’s finger. Pinkie had apparently been moved, and Irileth was bent over her, a golden glow wreathing her hands and the Khajiit’s legs. Magic. Restoration. Praise Stendarr, Irileth was a healer. She made her way over, going cautiously to avoid a fall, and sat beside the two, taking Pinkie’s hand in hers. The cat cracked her eyes open and smiled.

“How is she?” AJ asked.

“She is not well, but she will be. She is lucky - there are no other wounded. Only the dead.”

The Nord bowed her head. “I am sorry.”

The Dark Elf snorted. “For what? They are soldiers, sworn to serve and protect with their lives, and give them should it be necessary. The only blame lies with the dragon, and it is dead. Well done, by the way,” Irileth said, nodding to her and Rainbow, who’d joined her. “You three are natural warriors.”

“I’m sorry that they had to die at all.” Irileth raised an eyebrow. “I know where the blame lies. But that don’t make the deaths any easier.”

The Dunmer closed her eyes, and was silent for a moment, before returning her full attention to the magic she was wielding. “You are right. It does not. If you are feeling well, you may wish to help the others rig a stretcher. She will not be walking until tomorrow.”

Applejack nodded, and rose, giving Pinkie’s hand a pat as she let it go.

Chapter 4 - Dovahkiin

AJ pulled hard on the ends of the leather strip, ensuring that the knot was secure before moving to the next hole. Beside her, Rainbow was carefully putting holes into the dragonskin, the points of her steel daggers having proved to be the best tool for the job. Across from them, two guards whose names she had immediately forgotten were doing the same thing. The stretcher was makeshift, but it would serve to get Pinkie back to Whiterun. That it had been made from dragon bone and dragon skin was, in Rainbow’s mind, poetic justice.

“You must be Dragonborn.” Rainbow looked up from the dragonskin to find AJ staring at the guard who’d spoken as if he’d grown two heads.

“Beg your pardon?”

“You know the old stories, right?” the guard replied, and AJ nodded, slowly. “Dragonborn.”

Applejack snorted, and returned to tying the leather strips. “Last Dragonborn was Martin Septim, and he died without heir.”

The other guard poked in her direction with his dagger. “First Dragonborn got it from Akatosh. You absorbed that dragon’s soul, didn’t you?” Applejack was silent.

“Okay, what are you talking about?” Rainbow asked, her curiosity overcoming whatever shame there might have been at her ignorance. “What’s all this about Dragonborn?”

The guards gave each other a look, smirks on their face, and Rainbow scowled. “Aren’t you from Cyrodiil?” the first one asked her, his mustache twitching.

“Yeah, I am,” she replied, glaring at him. “And if you don’t stop laughing at the poor, ignorant Imperial and answer the blasted question, I’ll show you why I had to leave.”

“No call for that, Rainbow,” AJ said, shooting the guards a glare of her own. “The old stories say that, once, a long time ago, Akatosh gave a mortal the gift of his blood, creating the first of the Dragonborn. They also say that all the Emperors up to the last of the Septims were Dragonborn. Best known one is Tiber Septim.”

Rainbow blinked. “Wait, so you’re royalty?”

“No! I ain’t even Dragonborn, and that alone ain’t make me royalty!”

Rainbow shifted back a bit, eyebrows raised at Applejack’s near shouting. Just a little hostile, there. “Whatever you say,” she said, working another hole into the dragon skin and moving down to the next spot. “Still, the dragon … burned up. And went right to you.”

“Right,” said the mustache, and Rainbow noted that it really was a rather glorious mustache. “You absorbed its soul.” Applejack gave the leather strip a vicious tug, and moved on.

“You know,” said the other guard, working at his side of the skin, “I never heard of Talos taking any dragon souls.”

“Well there weren’t any for him to hunt, then, were there?” said mustache. “On account of them all being dead. Now they’re back, though.”

“Oh really? I would never have guessed,” Rainbow said, drawing a snort from AJ. Oh good, she could still laugh.

“There’s a way to know for sure, you know,” the other guard said. “If you’re dragonborn.” Applejack remained silent. “Dragonborn can all Shout,” he continued, “just naturally. No training needed. Can you? Have you tried?”

“No, I ain’t tried, and I ain’t gonna,” Applejack said, handing a leather strip to Dash, who tied off the last hole on her side of the stretcher. “I ain’t dragonborn.” The guards gave each other another look, then mustache looked at Rainbow. She just shook her head, and he nodded. The rest of the stretcher was finished in silence.

“Alright, lift gently. She’s healed, but the wounds are still tender.” The guards nodded to their commander, and lifted, sliding the dozing Khajiit onto the stretcher and putting her down as gently as possible. They’d done well; she didn’t even crack an eyelid. “Good. Go join the others,” the Dark Elf ordered, and the guards were off.

“You are certain you will be fine on the way back?” Irileth asked, and Applejack and Rainbow nodded.

“We’ve spent the last month on the road, ma’am,” said AJ, “and we’re used to the burden of packs. Compared to those, our friend’s no burden.”

The Dark Elf nodded. “You do me a favor by going to report in my stead. With the watchtower broken, this area will be a prime target for bandits and other no accounts – organizing a presence here is top priority. Here, give the Jarl this,” she said, bending down and pick a blue flower from the side of the road. “He will trust you regardless, but that flower will let him know that you return with my blessing.”

AJ nodded, and took the flower carefully, then at her person. She had a distressing lack of appropriate pouches for it, and was about to simply stash it in her bracer when Rainbow took the bloom from her hands and slipped it into her hair, weaving it into the pale strands with ease and swiftness.

“There.” AJ stared at her. Rainbow stared back, eyebrow raised. “What? Best way to store ‘em if you don’t got a basket.” The Nord just shook her head.

“One last thing,” Irileth said, and the two women looked to her. “I overheard the guards, earlier.” AJ scowled. “I don’t know about this dragonborn business, and I don’t think I much care. It’s Nord legend, and I am not a Nord,” she continued, and Rainbow snorted. Seemed everybody liked to state the dead obvious, today. “What I do know is that you’ve shown that dragons can be killed – all three of you – and that is what matters. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re with us.”

They each shook her outstretched hand, and Rainbow had to fight down a slight blush at the respect in the woman’s eyes. She was no stranger to admiration, but this was … different. Of course, Irileth was one of the authorities, and one of them liking her for once was different from her norm, so that was probably it.

The two of them bent down and took hold of the stretcher, Applejack at the head and Rainbow following. The weight wasn’t as bad as it could be, but it would be torture before long, she knew. “Wish we had a horse,” she muttered, as they set out. It was going to be a long trek back.

-oOo-

The four of them gathered in the courtyard, heavy robes guarding them against the biting winds. They needed no words to talk. Each already knew what the others did, and each already knew what they needed to do. As one, they raised their faces to the sky. As one, they turned from each other, to face the world. As one, they waited.

-oOo-

They need you.

Sleepy. Go ‘way.

They need you.

That’s why sleepin’. Get better. Go ‘way.

They are frowning.

Oh. That’s different.

Pinkie’s eyes fluttered open. First thought in her mind was that that one cloud way up there looked like a chicken, and the one right behind it looked like a mudcrab. Mudcrab chasing a chicken. She giggled.

“Oh, you’re awake.” She turned her head in the direction of the voice, and saw Rainbow, sitting on a rock and digging at a piece of bark with one of her daggers.

“Yep!” she replied, grinning, and was relieved to see the redhead return the smile.

“How you feelin’, Pinks?”

“Pinkie is-“ she paused, brow furrowing, as she considered the answer and tested out her legs, moving them around a bit. “Pinkie is tired and a little sore, but that’s nothing. What about you two?”

Rainbow’s smile turned a little sad at the question. “I’m fine, but AJ’s been real quiet this whole trip.”

Pinkie considered, closing her eyes for just a moment. “It’s that dragonborn stuff.”

Rainbow stared at her, mouth slightly open. “What? How’d you know about that?”

Pinkie raised an eyebrow at her, then twitched an ear – a very large, furry ear. Rainbow closed her eyes and nodded, a little sheepishly. “Right. Khajiit. Anyway, I think you’re right, but I don’t know for sure. She won’t talk.”

Pinkie nodded, then sat up, wincing a bit at the complaints of her muscles. Looking around, she spotted the Nord sitting a little ways off, staring into the darkening sky. “Hey Jackie!” she shouted, and the woman whipped her head around, her face lighting up. In about two seconds, she was by them both, grinning down at her furry friend.

“You’re awake!”

Pinkie laughed. “Yep! And Pinkie has a question.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Why didn’t we just wait at the tower?”

“Too dangerous,” Rainbow said, and Applejack nodded.

“That tower’s a prime target for bandits or the like, and what with the hole in the side, we couldn’t keep you inside it in case it decides to come down. Best just to get you out of there so’s the guards don’t have to worry about you.”

“Oh. Okay! Second question: what’s eating you, Jackie?”

AJ blinked, and glared at Rainbow. The redhead shrugged. “Hey, she heard what the guards said all by herself. Cat ears, you know.” Applejack sighed.

“I said it already: I ain’t dragonborn.”

Pinkie locked eyes with her, her whiskers twitching. She didn’t really want to continue this – she had a feeling AJ wasn’t gonna be happy with her for a while – but something told her it was necessary. “You need to at least try.” Applejack glowered at her, and she fought the urge to wince and retreat. “You really do.”

“I don’t,” AJ replied, her expression hardening.

“Try what?” Rainbow asked.

“If you don’t try, you’ll never know for real certain sure.”

“I don’t need to try, I just know.”

“No, seriously, try what?”

Pinkie leaned forward, putting her face right up in Applejack’s. If she doesn’t try …

“If you don’t try, isn’t that kind of like lying?”

Applejack stared back, her scowl set. “Everybody’s deaf now, or something? Try what?”

The scowl faded, and Applejack sighed, turning away from them both. “Try this, Rainbow.” The Nord inhaled, and Pinkie felt her nose twitch. “FUS.” A burst of blue energy tore from her mouth, the wind of its passage reaching back and ruffling her fur, despite being on the other side of her friend. The Khajiit heaved a sigh, and reached for AJ’s hand, taking it and squeezing it.

-oOo-

As one, they felt it, and as one, they reacted, each taking their stance, taking a breath, and speaking the words. And the mountain rumbled.

-oOo-

Rainbow gaped. “Wait … wait, so that was Shouting? “ Applejack nodded, her expression grim. “So, then that means, you are d-“

The clap of thunder cut her off, drawing everyone’s eyes to the sky even as the ground beneath them began to shake. Following on the heels of the thunder were voices, as rolling and booming as the thunder itself, carrying a message to all of Skyrim. The shaking of the earth faded with the voices, and in their wake, silence reigned.

“Wooooow. That was loud.”

“Thank you, Miss Obvious,” Rainbow said, drawing a giggle from the Khajiit.

“Silly Dashie, that’s not Pinkie’s name!”

The Imperial gave Pinkie a glare, and shook her head. “That’s not what – never mind. Anyone know what that was?”

“The Greybeards, up on their mountain,” said AJ her eyes glued to the massive peak that dominated the landscape. “That mountain there,” she said, pointing to it, “is the Throat of the World, and at its peak lies High Hrothgar, the home of the Greybeards. They are masters of the Voice.”

Rainbow scratched her head. “The Voice?”

“Shouting.”

The redhead’s eyes widened. “That was them Shouting?”

Applejack nodded. “Rumor is that they can kill a man by speaking to him.”

“After that, I believe it.” They were all silent for a time, each with their thoughts, Pinkie looking between the two humans and testing her legs and arms. Eventually, Applejack rose and secured her belt.

“We best be going,” she said, and moved to pick up the stretcher again. Pinkie held up a hand.

“Pinkie wants to try walking.” Both humans gave her a look, but she ignored them, scooting off the stretcher and getting her legs underneath her.

“Pinkie, no,” AJ said, and Rainbow shook her head at the cat. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“Psssh, Pinkie’ll be fine,” she said, and tried to stand, sighing as the attempt failed. Of course her legs were too weak to get her up. “We’ll move faster if Pinkie isn’t being carried. Just help her get up.”

“Sugar cube, I really don’t think you should-“

“Jackie, Pinkie’s not budging on this. Help her stand up, okay?” The Khajiit caught the Nord’s eyes in hers, extending her hands to both women. Rainbow took hers, and looked at Applejack, waiting. The blonde sighed.

“Fine. But if you take a spill, its back onto the stretcher.”

“Okey dokey lokey!” Pinkie replied, grinning, and with the help of her friends, was on her feet. Her legs felt shaky, but after a test step, she nodded. She could do this. It wasn’t all that far to Whiterun. “Pinkie will need support. But she can do this.”

“You know,” Rainbow said, as they approached the Whiterun stables, “that word the Greybeards shouted. I’ve heard it before.”

Applejack and Pinkie both looked at her in surprise. “Where?” AJ asked.

“At Helgen,” she said, softly. “The dragon was shouting it as I escaped.” Her brow wrinkled as she tried to recall the exact words. “I think it said … tell the dovahkiin that his days are numbered. And something about coming for him. But it definitely said ‘dovahkiin.’ I remember that.”

She looked across at Applejack, shifting to allow Pinkie a better grip on her arm. “Any idea what it means?” The Nord shook her head.

“What does Fus mean?”

They both blinked, looking at Pinkie, and Applejack replied. “Force.”

Now it was her turn to get the stares. “So it’s not just a magic word,” said Rainbow. “What is it, Elvish?”

Pinkie shook her head. “Nah, that’s not any kind of mer tongue. Where’d you learn it?”

Applejack flushed, and Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “You remember that shrine in the barrow?”

“Yeah,” the Imperial said, suspicious.

“Oooh, where we fought that draugr and he Shouted at us and then I killed him and took his axe?”

“Yes, Pinkie. There. Well … when I looked at the wall, one of the words on it popped out at me, and next thing I knew, I knew the word.” She was very specifically avoiding eye contact, and Rainbow frowned. This whole thing was getting very fishy.

“I remember I asked you if anything was wrong, and you said it was all fine,” she said, a hint of accusation in her voice.

AJ sighed. “I’m sorry, Rainbow. I can’t really explain it well, but when I learned the word, it just … it just didn’t seem odd. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, and I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? You just magically learn a word off a dragon shrine in a tomb full of walking dead and that’s not a big deal?”

“I’m not saying it wasn’t,” AJ replied, her voice soft. “Just, at the time, it didn’t look like one. I can’t excuse it, Rainbow, and looking back, not saying anything was just plain stupid. But I didn’t, and I’m sorry.”

Rainbow opened her mouth to retort, and caught herself. That had been sincere, not sarcastic. Check yourself, Dash; AJ’s not street or thief. She means what she says, and really, with all that’s happening, she doesn’t need you giving her grief. She closed both her eyes and her mouth, took a couple deep breaths, and quashed her anger. “Right,” she said. “Right. That’s okay.” She looked up at Applejack and gave her the best smile she could manage. “And I mean, who’s to say the wall didn’t mess with your head, too?”

Applejack returned the smile. “Thanks, Rainbow.”

“D’aaawwwww! You girls are too cute!” AJ flushed, looking away, and Rainbow slapped her forehead, not quite managing to suppress a snicker. Trust Pinkie to completely kill the tension.

“So,” she said, still trying not to giggle, “we know what Fus means. What about Dovahkiin?”

“Well it’s obviously dragon language, since it was said by a dragon,” Pinkie supplied, “and fus is probably dragon language too, because it was on a dragon shrine and written in that weird scratchy and dotty writing that was also on the Dragonstone, and Farengar said that was written in dragon, and hey!” she exclaimed, pointing into the air and immediately stumbling, forcing her companions to catch her. “Mr. Wizard knows dragon, maybe he could tell us!”

“Pinkie, honestly!” Applejack chided. “You wanted to walk, keep actual hold of us.”

“Sorry.”

“That’s not a bad idea, though,” Rainbow said. “That mage is way too into dragons. He’d probably know what it meant off the top of his head.”

“Well, we’re going to the palace anyway. Or at least one of us is,” Applejack said, looking at Pinkie. “We should take you to the Bannered Mare, first, and get you set in a room.”

“Nothing doing!” Pinkie replied, as chipper as could be, and Rainbow had to suppress another snicker. “Pinkie’s feeling stronger with each step, and there’s no way in the wide wide world of Nirn that Pinkie’s gonna miss a chance to tell about how we killed a dragon!”

“Pinkie-“

“Nope!”

“Pink-“

“Nooooo.”

“Pi-“

“No, no, nono no!”

“You might as well give up, AJ,” Rainbow said, chuckling. “You’ll get her singing next.”

“Oooooo, Pinkie should totally make up a song for this! Okay, what rhymes with dragon? Wagon, flagon, braggin’, swaggin’, naggin’, taggin’, baggin’, laggin’, craggin’, fraggin’ … uh … draggin’, but that’s like exactly like dragon and that’s kind of weak, but maybe-”

Her two friends groaned. The trip up to the palace had just gotten a lot longer.

-oOo-

There was no trouble for them at the gate this time; the same guard they had met the last two times signaled the gate to open the moment he saw them, and saluted as they approached, drawing a raised eyebrow from Rainbow, a giggling grin from Pinkie, and a solemn nod from Applejack. “Is the dragon dead?” he asked as they passed, falling into step.

“Yes,” replied AJ, her face grim. “I’m sorry – most of your fellows died in the battle.”

The guard nodded his face matching hers. “They died with honor. Shor will welcome them to his hall. I will take you to the palace,” he said, stepping in front of them and gesturing to two other nearby guards. They formed a buffer around the women, forging a path through the gathering crowd by dint of presence and pushing shields.

Applejack stared at the people, somewhat taken aback by how many there were. She had thought the meeting at Riverwood was a throng – they’d barely made it to the merchant square and the crowd was already twice that. More guards had joined as they went, their shields and bodies reinforcing the wall that kept the people back, and if it weren’t for them, their chances of reaching the palace would have probably been nothing.

“What is goin’ on?” she asked, her voice little more than a murmur.

“They wanna know about the dragon, of course,” Pinkie replied, ears swiveling this way and that. “Can’t you hear them asking?”

Applejack blinked, and looked at Rainbow, who gave her a nod. “Rumor travels, AJ. Ten septims says that us going out to fight it was city-wide half an hour after we left.”

“No bet, Dashie,” Pinkie said, largely walking on her own, now. “You’d win hands down.”

Now that she listened for it, she could make out words here and there in the general clamor, cries of “Where’s Irileth?” or “Is it dead?” and, worst of all, “Where’s Eric? Where’s my son?” She shook her head, and forged onward. It was for the Jarl to tell the people.

-oOo-

The palace doors swung open, and the three women strode in, their escort lining the entrance. The gate guard led their way, approaching the throne and dropping to one knee. The Jarl rose, his steward on his right, and a large Nord, particularly barbaric in appearance, to his left. “Greetings, Leif,” Balgruuf said, nodding to the guard. “And welcome on your return, warriors. You bring news of the dragon?”

Applejack stepped forward, and bowed her respect; behind her, Rainbow and Pinkie did the same. “Yes, Jarl. The dragon is slain.”

The court, which had been deathly silent, erupted in noise, cries of acclaim and thunderous applause echoing from every wall and corner. The Jarl held up a hand, and the court fell silent once again. “And what of Irileth? You bear her token, I see, so I assume she lives.”

Applejack nodded, standing straight, now. “She does. She stayed at the tower with those who survived to keep the place safe. I – I regret to say, my Jarl, that over half of those who went died in the battle.”

Balgruuf closed his eyes, his expression pained, and hung his head. The silence stretched, as all present followed suit. Eventually, he spoke. “They died in service to Whiterun, defending their home and those they loved. We give them to the care of Arkay, and wish them well on their way to Sovngarde. Proventus!” he barked, and the steward stepped forward. “Arrange a relief detail and send them to the tower the moment they are ready.”

“At once, Jarl!” the Imperial said, and left the room.

“The dead will be honored as is fitting for warriors!” Balgruuf announced to the court. “But for now, I must confer with these brave ones! Leif.” The guard raised his head, stood, and saluted. “You may tell the people that the dragon is dead, and that they may listen for the heralds for further news.” The guard turned smartly on his heel, and all but ran for the door.

“As for you three,” Balgruuf said, turning his attention to the women, “come with me. I would hear more of this.”

-oOo-

“It sounds,” the Jarl said, rising from the table and moving to rim of the Great Porch, “as though you all live by the grace of Stendarr alone.”

“I believe it,” Applejack said, still seated. Beside her, Rainbow grunted an acknowledgement, and took another sip of her mead.

“Nelkir,” the Jarl said, drawing the attention of the boy that had joined them. “You have recorded the account?”

“Yes, father,” he replied, quill in hand, the parchment in front of him still glistening with the fresh ink.

“What have you learned, regarding the dragons?”

The boy did not answer immediately, looking back over the parchment as he thought. “They are tough. Very, very tough. The tower fell on this one, and it got back up.” He paused, tapping his chin with the feather of the quill, then continued. “It has both fire and frost breath, its hide is like armor, and in the air … I think only magic works well.”

“That, or you need better arrowheads,” Rainbow put in. “Iron can’t get through its scales easily, but I bet a tougher head could. My daggers got through, after all.”

“So did Pinkie’s axe!” the Khajiit said. “But that’s not an arrow at all.”

“Aye,” Balgruuf answered, turning back to the table. “You may be right, Miss Dash. Tell me … was this the dragon that burned Helgen?”

Rainbow heaved a sigh, and shook her head. “I’m sorry, but no. The one at Helgen was bigger. A lot bigger. And black as ebony. This one was … what, green? Brown?”

“Something like that,” Applejack said. The Jarl sighed.

“So there is more than just one dragon. And if there are two … we must assume there are more than two. Well, Whiterun shall be prepared, at least. One last question, for you three. When the dragon died, did anything ...” he paused, considering his words. “Did anything strange happen?”

Both Rainbow and Pinkie looked straight at Applejack, whose expression had gone flat. The Jarl looked between them, eyebrows raised, expectant. “Well, Jackie?” Pinkie asked, poking the Nord in her pelt-lined shoulder.

“If you don’t wanna say it, I will,” Rainbow offered, but Applejack shook her head.

“No, Rainbow, it’s mine to say. Jarl,” she started, then sighed. “Jarl, when the dragon died, it began to burn. The fire was like some kind of magic, golden flame, only halfway there, and the smoke was the same way. We all thought it was going to explode, or something … but the flesh just burned away, and gathered up in that smokey mass, and then it-“

She stopped, closing her eyes, her face looking pained. “Then it came to me. And … and sank in. I can’t really explain what happened next, but it was … strange. And I blacked out for a while. Later on, some of the men said I had to be Dragonborn.”

The other Nord at the table, the one who had been at the Jarl’s side in Irileth’s usual place, stood to his feet. He was an imposing figure, with dark red war paint over his eyes, and scaled leather armor, the skull of some horned creature attached as a shoulder guard. “Then it is true, brother,” he said, addressing the Jarl. “You heard the summons. They must be for her.”

“All of Skyrim heard the summons, Hrongar. But yes, I agree,” Balgruuf said, looking directly at Applejack. “You do not seem pleased.”

She hung her head. “Beg pardon, Jarl. I know, it’s an honor. But me? Dragonborn? Summoned by the Greybeards? I’m just a farm girl from Riverwood. I raise apples.”

“You’ve also, in the past month, taken down bandits, giant spiders, draugr, and now, a dragon,” Rainbow said, raising an eyebrow as AJ shot her a glare. She shrugged. “Just sayin’.”

“You’re the one as actually killed it.”

“Yeah, and I’d have had a great chance to do that if you hadn’t, oh, blocked its frost breath with your body, or blinded it with your mace, or pinned it with an axe in its mouth.”

“Rainbow,” she said, her voice flat.

“The Greybeards have summoned you,” the Jarl said, cutting off whatever reply she might have had. “You know they cannot be denied.”

She sighed. “I know.” He nodded.

“I would have you set off immediately … but you should have time to rest. And there is the matter of your reward, for your services rendered to Whiterun,” he said, standing and beckoning to his steward, who stepped forward. “But it grows late, and that can wait for the morrow. Proventus, give them a room for the night, and see to it that there are places for them at the tables.” The Imperial nodded, and the three women rose at his gesture.

“Should I make arrangements for a ceremony?” he asked, and the Jarl nodded.

“We shall, actually. See me when they are settled.”

-oOo-

The room was not grand, as palace rooms went, but it was spacious, and, most importantly, featured three beds. Rainbow was the first out of her armor, shedding the leathers with alacrity and piling it next to her pack. Pinkie was next, her torn and ragged vest laid out on the floor, the Khajiit giving it a forlorn look. “Pinkie’s gonna need a new vest.”

“Frankly, you’re lucky you don’t need a new gut,” AJ said, struggling with the straps on her armor. Damn things didn’t want to come apart. Pinkie giggled.

“Or new legs!”

“Or new legs. Sakes, girl, you gotta be more careful.”

“Right, and you’re one to talk, AJ,” Rainbow put in, flopping down on a bed. “Throwing yourself in front of dragon breath? Not exactly the most careful thing to do.” The room fell silent, Applejack’s hands frozen on the straps. She shivered at the memory, and the mental image of just what it might have done to Dash. “Thanks, by the way,” Rainbow continued. “I think that would have killed me. Don’t know how it didn’t kill you.”

Applejack snorted, shaking her head and tugging at the leather. “I’m a Nord. That breath? Bad, sure, but a Skyrim winter is worse. ‘Specially last year’s.” She grunted, straps creaking in protest as her fingers slipped. “Did a number on these consarned ties, though.”

The Imperial swung off the bed and walked over, bending down to get a closer look at the straps. She gave a low whistle. “These are shot, AJ. That’s some weirdness. They’re, like, fused together,” she said, and reached for her daggers.

“What are you doin’?” the Nord asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Need to cut them,” she said, and slipped the blade between the pelt and the tie. A twist of the dagger, and the strap snapped. “You should give it a once over, just to make sure there’s nothing else wrong with it.”

Applejack nodded, finding her breathing coming easier as her friend cut the straps, and started tugging at the pelts and plates, to loosen them. Before long, her armor was laid out on the floor as well, and she was rolling her shoulders, and rubbing her neck, working out the soreness. “Mmm... feels good to be out of that.”

“Dunno how you stand all this weight,” Rainbow said, separating out the pelts from the breast and back plates, checking each for damage.

“Years of apple-hauling,” she replied, and bent down to help, Pinkie joining in as well. “Plus, I’ve been dealing with it for the past month. I get used to it.” She cast a critical eye over the metal, largely ignoring the pelts. Frost like that couldn’t do much to a good hide, but iron … “Looks like it should be alright. Just needs new straps.”

“You should probably think about an upgrade, though. Don’t get me wrong, AJ, you did a darn good job with this, but it’s still scrap iron. What with that whole Dragonborn thing, some real steel would be a good idea.”

Dragonborn. Gods, but why her? She slumped back, dropping her face into her hands, thoughts whirling. It wasn’t long before she felt hands on her shoulders, and cracked open her fingers to look around. Pinkie and Rainbow had moved to her sides, both of them looking at her with concern. “Tell us about it, Jackie,” the Khajiit said. She closed her eyes, then nodded.

“I don’t want this,” she started. They had moved to one of the beds, Applejack seated in the middle with other two girls’ arms around her. “I don’t.”

“Why not?” Rainbow asked, and she gave her a sharp look. “Hey, not saying you should. Just asking why not.”

She sighed. How to explain this? “Dragonborn are … Emperors. Heroes. They belong in bard songs and on thrones, Dash. I’m just Applejack; farm girl and sometime fighter. I ain’t no hero.” Pinkie and Rainbow gave each other a look, then turned it on her, raised eyebrows on each face. “What?”

“We kind of went over this with the Jarl, AJ,” Rainbow said. “In the past month - bandits, spiders, draugr, dragon. And heck, we survived a giant.”

“She’s right,” Pinkie added. “It’s already ballad worthy.” The cat poked her in the ribs. “So what else is goin’ on here, Jackie?”

Applejack hung her head. “I … I don’t want it, girls. I came to Dragonsreach to tell the Jarl because it had to be done. I went to get the Dragonstone because he asked, and because it was a way to help. I went to fight the dragon because I wasn’t gonna let you do it alone, Rainbow,” she said, nuding the Imperial, “and because if it threatened Whiterun, it threatened home.” Home. “But Dragonborn?” She sniffed, tears forming in her eyes. “And the Greybeards calling me? By the Nine, Rainbow, when am I gonna get to go home?

“I just …” She buried her face in her hands, her voice catching. “I just … Oh, Apple Bloom.” Her shoulders began to shake, sobs wracking her form. Her friends put their arms around her, and put their heads to hers.

-oOo-

Applejack paused, wiping her brow and squinting. The mist was tremendously thick today; unseasonably so, even. She could barely see but two paces ahead, and just far enough to see the edges of the path. Still, that was enough to keep following it, at least. Dark pillars loomed to either side of her, tree trunks barely glimpsed through the roiling fog, but she knew they held no threat. She knew this path. She knew these trees. This was her orchard, and this was her home.

To her left, a shadow walked, huge and silent. She took comfort in its presence, knowing the she was not alone. She had never been alone. That shadow had been with her all her life, as sure as the seasons changed. She turned to her right, where another walked, this one small and bouncing, echoes of laughter flitting around its form. She smiled; this one had only started to follow her recently, and she cared for it, as her brother had cared for her.

Ahead of her, the path dipped, and she picked up the pace. The mist was growing darker, though it still roiled white beside her; evidence that she was approaching her destination. She made a final leap, her memory carrying her over the first of the roots and guiding her steps through the following tangle. The roots grew thicker, as they led into each other and fused into one, leading, finally, to the source of the darkness. The massive trunk of the oldest tree in the orchard towered above her, so big around that it might as well have been a wall of wood.

“Hello, Cornerstone,” she murmured, leaning up against the cool, smooth bark, and breathing heavily of the tree’s scent. Memories came rushing back, and with them the echoes of sound and the hints of shapes in the mist; shadows that might have been her cavorting amongst the old tree’s roots, to the tunes of half-remembered melodies, and the laughter of nearly forgotten voices. Her smile returned, and she sighed, content. She belonged here, at home.

“Hin silii hind.” The voice was deep, rumbling, and she frowned. The words stuck in her mind, but she did not know them. “Your family. Your farm. All you ever wanted.”

She nodded. “I once dreamed of more, and went looking. But it wasn’t what I thought.”

“Ful hindde rovaan. Do you know yourself, joor?”

Applejack turned, frowning, to find the source of the voice. Within the mist, the shadows had vanished, chased away by the looming presence of something huge, and powerful, and shadow in the mist to rival that of Cornerstone. She felt it as it moved, and watched as the eyes appeared, glowing with a golden, ethereal flame.

She stared back, and adjusted her hat. “What kind of fool question is that? Of course I know myself.”

The eyes narrowed, and the voice chuckled. “Joorre los alun meyye. If that is so, whence comes your form?”

She cocked her head, and looked down at herself, puzzled. Nothing seemed out of place; she had everything, after all. “What are you talking about? I’ve always been like this.”

“Oh?” the voice said, for the first time surprised. “Then what of this?” A claw, limned in the same, golden flame, stirred the mist, weaving light and dark into a distinct shape. Applejack leaned forward a bit, looking closely. It was her, sure enough, standing tall and armored, helmet on her head and maces in her hands.

“What of it?” she asked. The voice really wasn’t making much sense at all. “I haven’t worn armor all that much, true, but what with all that’s happened, you can’t blame me for it now.”

The eyes blinked, and there followed laughter, deep enough to shake the earth on which she stood. “Aam, munax dez!” it cried, and she narrowed her eyes. It kept speaking in that tongue, which she was sure she should know, but didn’t. “Fin joor los ful kreh, rekii miin lo ek!”

“Look,” she growled, “if you’ve got a point, get to it. I ain’t here to be laughed at.”

The voice sobered, and the eyes returned to stare at her; the presence behind it suddenly heavy, and twice as real. “No. You are not. You are here to see, joor.” The glowing eyes shifted downward, and the ethereal claw stirred the mist once more, rolling the shadows about and shaping them. "Behold," the voice said, low and rumbling, "where the paths you walk may lead."

She watched; in truth, she couldn’t look away. A city she recognized, its walls half-crumbled, and a grand palace seated atop a hill, burned; white flames licking over darkened stone, as the smoke rolled up in great gouts of shadow. Winged forms swarmed about the burning city, stooping to snatch at fleeing figures, and breathe torrents of misty flame and foggy frost, again, and again, and again. Above the scene, a larger form circled, slowly and surely, a black spot in the grey sky, watching the carnage below.

The scene shifted; the shape of the city had changed, to one she no longer recognized, but the flames remained, as did the creatures she knew were dragons, and circling above, the black spot that watched. City after city flitted past, each burning under the assault of the dragons; until finally, even the White Gold Tower, which had stood since before any could remember, was wreathed in dragon flame.

“They bring the end of all things,” the voice said, little more than a whisper in her ear. “The world will perish and be purified. The taint of mortals will be swept away, and the abomination that is Mundus will be ended.” She shivered at the words, and closed her eyes, unable to watch any longer. “Everyone will die.”

“Apple Bloom,” she whispered, and voice rumbled an agreement.

“Family. Friends. Home.”

“Why show me this?” she asked, voice cracking.

“It is only the truth.”

“But why me, consarn it?” she shouted, tear-rimmed eyes flying open as she stomped the ground. “Why me?”

The eyes did not move, or blink, but only stared back at her; and the voice, when it spoke, had no trace of mercy. “You are blessed, and you are cursed. Of all the mortals, you may rise; of all the mortals, you may fight; in this era, the world will look to you, and whether it lives or passes on will rest upon your shoulders.”

The mists roiled again, stirred by the claw, and she saw herself once more, armed and armored, standing at the top of a pile of bones. Her image raised her head to the skies, and opened her mouth. Though she made no sound, the echo of her cry rang in Applejack’s soul, and she choked; sorrow and anger flooded through her, in answer to the cry, and a burning, savage lust for blood.

“Become the destroyer, and they will fail. Crush them beneath your heel and shatter them with your voice, and the world will continue. Embrace the power, and you may stand a chance.”

She backed up, shaking her head, and turned away from the monster the mist had made her. “No,” she sobbed. “I can’t do that. I can’t.”

“Then you abandon the world.” She ran into wood, and slumped against the solid presence of Cornerstone, body wracked by sobs. “You abandon your home.” The eyes floated in front of her, two sets of golden claws now working the mist, shaping it into the shadows that had walked with her. She made to shout, but could not, her voice choked off by her sobbing.

“You abandon these to die,” the voice said, and both shadows went up in golden flame. They writhed, as if in pain, but made no sounds as the flame overtook them, and began to spread. The tongues of fire licked over ground, and wood, racing across the surface of the tree. They climbed to the top, the mist fleeing before them, and revealing the massive, leafy boughs of her oldest tree; those, they devoured too.

She cowered, surrounded by fire, her eyes flooded with tears, unable to do more than give a wordless cry. “Remember, Applejack; but for you, all the world will burn.” The flames reached her, finally, and she screamed, kicking. It was no use. They covered her, too, and the world was lost to fire.

-oOo-

“AJ!” Someone was atop her, hands on her shoulders. She cried out in panic, and swung, blindly, trying to knock her assailant off. In the blink of an eye, she found her arm pinned against the attacker’s side, and a hand on her throat. Fuchsia eyes, wide and panicked, stared into hers, and she froze.

“Rainbow?” The Imperial nodded, jaw clenched and lips pressed tightly together. Applejack let her eyes rove, and noted the same tension in every line of the woman’s form; battle-ready. Duelist. She closed her eyes, the image of Rainbow with her dagger pressed against Gedel’s throat coming to mind. She’d been tense then, too. “I’m alright, Rainbow.”

Slowly, shakily, the Imperial removed her hand from the Nord’s throat, and shifted to the side of the bed, crossing her legs and rubbing her arms. Applejack rose to a sitting position, and looked around the room; the rays of the morning sun were filtering through the spaces between the heavy curtains, which explained why she hadn’t woke with the sunrise. A twinge of guilt hit her, but she forced it down. After yesterday, she had earned some extra sleep.

“Bad dream?” Rainbow asked, and Applejack nodded.

“I was in … somewhere. There was a lot of fog. And a pair of eyes. Trees, too.” She frowned. “And something about … flames.” She shook her head. “Can’t remember more than that.”

“You were crying.”

She reached up to her face, and her hand came away wet. Well, that would explain why the room was blurry. Blinking away the last of the tears, she turned, and gave Rainbow a smile. “Thanks.”

The Imperial shrugged. “No problem.”

Applejack looked around, and frowned. “Where’s Pinkie?”

“Dunno. I just woke up, too.”

“Well, if she’s out and about, we’d best get moving too,” she said, swinging her legs off the bed and heading for her pack. She’d have to wear the good tunic, and just be careful with it. This was a palace, after all; she’d have to look her best.

-oOo-

“So,” the old Khajiit said, folding his hands before him, and holding her gaze with his own. “They let you inside.”

She nodded, her pink mane flopping about. “Yep! Pinkie checked; the guards let her in and out whenever they like!” She frowned. “She likes, she means. If they only did it when they like Pinkie probably wouldn’t get back inside much. But maybe she would.”

Ri’saad held up a paw, to forestall the rambling, and she fell silent. “How was this accomplished?” he asked.

She grinned, or rather, grinned wider. “Pinkie killed a dragon.”

Three of the cats scoffed, the mage Ma’randru-jo saying how such a thing was impossible. Once again, however, Ri’saad held up a paw, and the group fell silent. “The art of the bold-faced lie is a difficult and useful one, and one that this kit never mastered. What tale have you for us, kit?”

Grinning as wide as ever, she launched into the story, starting with the giant. She showed them her axe, and told of how she won it from the barrow lord, and of the celebration that had followed. She glossed over the travel time, and focused instead on how she had gained entry to the city in the first place; the other cats all nodded their appreciation of the trickery. And when she reached the dragon itself, they were riveted; she could not have asked for a more perfect audience. But then, Khajiit had always had a greater appreciation for the art of tale-telling.

Ri’saad, though, bore the countenance of the elder; the stoic smile, the thoughtful nod, the musing murmur. As she finished her tale, the furrowing of his brow told her that he was thinking, and she knew there would be a question to follow. “The Nord,” he said, his voice nearly a purr, “you say she is special. That the others call her Dragonborn.” Pinkie nodded.

“Is she Septim?”

She looked at him, confused. “Applejack’s a Nord, not a coin.”

For a moment, there was silence, and then a round of chuckles. “Nay, kit. Of the line of Septim. The Emperors of old.”

“Ooooohh,” she said, and frowned. “Don’t know. She never said. Don’t think so, though. They’d probably make a bigger deal out of it than they have if she was.”

The old cat nodded. “Still. Dragonborn. A threat to dragons, yes? A greater mark of destiny than you thought, Atahbah.”

The old cat’s wife ducked her head, chuckling. “Nay, husband. Not greater.”

Ri’saad raised his eyebrows, but shook his head at his wife’s look. “Not greater, than. Still. This Applejack will be an important person, yes … and one that, I think, we will wish to keep alive. Kit.”

Pinkie nodded. “Pinkie was planning on sticking with her anyway. She’s good people.”

“Good. I rather feel she will need you.”

-oOo-

Rainbow scowled, and the boy wisely ran off before she made up her mind to give him a cuff around the ears. Brat. Running into her like that. She toyed with the idea of giving chase, but shook it off. It wouldn’t be worth it, and besides, that would just be petty. Petty was for those who could be goaded into a duel; like Captain Matius.

She groaned. And here she’d almost forgotten the blasted dream, not to mention the events of the morning. Way to go, Rainbow. Real good work there. Makes total sense to wake your friend up, just to try and strangle her back to sleep. Real smooth. And, of course, AJ was too damn good a person to bring it up. “Hells!” she cried, throwing her hands in the air, and drawing a couple stares. Enough was enough! AJ clearly didn’t care, or she understood, or whatever, so Oblivion take it if she was going to either!

“You alright there, sugar cube?”

Right. Of course. She would be standing right behind her. “Just fine!” Rainbow said, turning around slowly and pasting what had to be a painfully obvious smile on her face. Oh hells, she wasn’t alone; another Nord woman was standing beside AJ, and looking at her like she had grown two heads. Or like she had just randomly thrown her hands into the air and invoked the hells. Well, time to try and save face. “Hi!” she said, and extended her hand.

The woman took it, slowly, and they shook, Rainbow making sure she kept her smile on. “Rainbow Dash, this here is my cousin Alfhild.”

“Good to meet you,” the Nord said, and Rainbow nodded.

“Same here.” She shifted, nervous, as the woman gave her a critical once-over, and shot a questioning look at Applejack.

“Alfhild’s … insisting on helping us,” her friend said, a slight look of annoyance on her face. “Apparently my good tunic isn’t quite up to court standards.”

“It’s the truth, cousin,” said Alfhild, evenly. “What you’re wearing is fine for a normal court appearance, but for a ceremony in your honor, it would insult the court. Olfrid will not mind, I think, if I lend you something.” She nodded. “No, he will not mind at all. Come, we are just up the hill.”

“Are you sure I can’t just wear my armor?” Rainbow asked, staring at the dress that Alfhild had picked for her. Dresses. Of course it was dresses. It was like the whole damn world of Tamriel had something against girls wearing pants. At least they wouldn’t leave her completely unable to move; Nords apparently liked being able to run. Or at least these Nords did. This was, after all, only the one city. Who knew what the norm was in other places? Still. Dresses. Gah.

“That depends,” said Alfhild, who was helping Applejack into her dress, which would be hilarious except for the fact that she was going to be wearing one herself. “What kind of armor is it?”

“Uh …”

“If my tunic ain’t good enough,” Applejack said, a scowl on her face, “then neither is our armor. Don’t get me wrong, Rainbow, it’s good armor, but it definitely ain’t fancy.”

The Imperial heaved a sigh, and started to untie her sash. “Of course it isn’t; it’s meant to actually be used.” No getting out of it. One thing she did know; they were in the Jarl’s good graces right now, his very good graces, and no good could come of insulting his court. Keeping up appearances was nothing she hadn’t done before.

The dress was a surprisingly good fit, and the faded green look pretty good on her, she had to admit. The bandana was to be left off, at Alfhild’s insistence; yet another concession to friggin’ courtly appearance. Ah, well. Just the one ceremony, and then that’d be all done with. She looked over at Applejack, and had to suppress a snicker; if anything, the Nord looked even more uncomfortable in it than she did. “Have … you ever actually worn a dress before?” she asked. Applejack shook her head, and this time she actually couldn’t suppress the snicker. “Seriously?”

“Rainbow, I worked a farm my whole life,” her friend replied, giving her a sardonic glare. “There weren’t exactly a lot of call for dressing fancy.”

Rainbow blinked, and, for a moment, pictured Applejack, knee deep in mud, surrounded by cows, and wearing one of the dresses the court ladies in Cyrodiil favored, all frilly and sporting a ridiculously stupid bustle. It was too much; she doubled over, laughing, unable to keep herself upright.

“And just what is so funny about that?” Applejack said, a touch of anger in her voice.

“It’s – pff – it’s not that!” she said, trying to force down the giggles. “I just imagined you in – hah – on the farm. In a dress. With a bustle!” Nope, she’d lost it again, and this time the laughter forced her to take a seat.

Applejack looked to her cousin, who was covering her mouth and trying not to giggle. “Alright, I’m lost. What’s a bustle?”

“It’s a Cyrodiilic fashion,” Alfhild replied. “They add a frame to the dress that, well …” She hesitated. “It makes your ass look really big.”

Applejack blinked. “How big?”

“Depends on the dress,” her cousin said, evenly. “The more conservative ones aren’t that bad, honestly. Others, well …”

“Some of them,” Rainbow managed, her breathing heavy, “some of them, you could smuggle a cow in.”

Applejack shot her cousin a disbelieving look, but Alfhild only nodded. AJ shook her head. “No offense, cousin, but noblefolk are crazy.”

“Oh, I know,” the woman replied, as they helped Rainbow back up to her feet. “From the stories I hear, we Nords are rather sane, compared to the rest.”

The Imperial nodded. “Oh yeah, the Imperial Court is ridiculous. ‘Course, nothing ever beats Daggerfall.”

“’Strewth,” the Nords said in tandem, and Rainbow snickered. Family resemblance, alright.

“We all set, cousin?”

“Just one last thing,” the woman said, opening a small chest beside the bed. Reaching inside, she pulled out two silver pendants, and proffered them to Applejack and Rainbow. “’Tis a loan, don’t forget. But some adornment is necessary.”

Applejack smiled at her, and slipped her pendant on, and Rainbow followed suit. The pendant wasn’t particularly heavy, which was good; she was already . “Thanks, coz.”

“You are welcome.”

-oOo-

Whiterun worked quickly. The market square had been converted from average to festive, with colored banners strung between the stalls and benches dragged into place, and the occasional table, set with food and trenchers alike. Stalls featured sweets, food, and drinks, and the people were already beginning the festivities.

The square around the Gildergreen, too, was set for the festivities, though there were no stalls here. Here people mingled, drinks in hand, and talked, and sang, and danced, cheering the bards and each other, and largely ignoring the frenzied preaching of Heimskr. He had taken a different tack, tonight, praising Talos for their deliverance from the dragon, and largely exhorting the masses to join him in his praise, rather than his usual fare of exhorting them to worship the Ninth Divine. Perhaps the tankard in his hand had had a part to play in that.

The Palace bore no decorations on its face, but inside was another matter entirely. The long tables of the hall were filled, not just with food, but with people; anyone rich enough to be considered of the nobility was there, along with their families. Men, women, and children alike shared table space, with no clear order to the seating arrangements.

A third, much smaller table had been placed on the raised portion of the hall, and seated the Jarl, his family, and his closest advisors. Today, however, Irileth, his housecarl, Farengar, his court wizard, and Proventus, his steward, had given up their usual locations at his right, in favor of the guests of honor; Applejack and Rainbow, simply but appropriately dressed, drew attention purely for their known role in the slaying of the dragon.

Pinkie was another matter. Khajiit, her presence in the hall at all, much less in a position of honor at the Jarl’s table, was the source of much discussion, and her garb only added to that. A brilliant red and trimmed in gold, the cloth looked as though it had been wrapped around her torso, rather than fitting as a normal dress would. A hood of the same, light material covered her head, cut to allow her ears to poke through; no one in the city had ever seen its like. The general consensus was that the outfit was tremendously Khajiiti, and quite possibly scandalous.

As for the women themselves, Applejack looked completely out of her depth, Rainbow seemed to have mixed feelings about the whole thing, and Pinkie was all smiles, and largely carrying the conversation

“Pinkie never did much like his face, see,” she was saying, idly slicing up another portion of beef, “so when he pressed his suit, she decided to look into things a bit, and what he didn’t know is that Pinkie knows everyone. She found out pretty quickly that he was in deep with some bad sorts.”

“What kind of sorts?” The Jarl’s son, Frothar, was paying rapt attention; he had not, in fact, taken his eyes from the Khajiit from the moment she’d sat down. Pinkie chuckled, swiftly chewing and swallowing another portion of meat.

“Well, there were the thieves, but khajiit don’t mind that so much. It was more the murdering and kidnapping that was a problem,” she said.

Applejack gave a nervous look at the Jarl, and breathed a sigh of relief to find that he was simply paying attention to the story, and quietly eating; his steward, on the other hand, looked scandalized. She braced herself, as he opened his mouth to speak, and blinked in surprise when Irileth jabbed him in the side.

“Pinkie wasn’t about to let her sister get wrapped up in all of that, so she made a plan. First, she went to her sister, and let her know what was really going on, and then she got some friends together to help her out. He wasn’t a one-woman kind of cat, which was another thing Pinkie didn’t like about him, so Pinkie started flirting with him, only when her sister wasn’t there, of course.”

“Wait,” said Dagny; the jarl’s daughter, too, had been paying close attention. “If you didn’t like him, why’d you flirt with him?”

“It’s a trick, of course,” said Nelkir, giving Dagny a superior look. “She’s only making him think he likes her.”

“Really?” Dagny asked, looking at Pinkie, and the Khajiit nodded.

“Yep! He believed it, too. Pinkie didn’t even have to try very hard! So after a couple days, Pinkie invited him to a private meeting, in a house her friend owned.” Glances were exchanged around the table; Pinkie simply forged ahead. “He showed up, of course, and brought two of his thugs with him, because he was just a little paranoid, but Pinkie had planned for that. Her friend, see, knows plants and powders and potions, and when they stayed downstairs, she put a little powder in their drinks, and they went right to sleep.

“As for the kitty himself, well, he didn’t know that Pinkie knew a Cathay-Raht.” The table exchanged confused glances; apparently no one, not even Farengar, had a clue as to what she was saying.

“Uh, Pinkie?” Applejack said, after a moment’s awkward silence.

“Yeah, Jackie?”

“What’s a Cathay-Raht?”

The Khajiit stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Oh, silly Pinkie! She forgot that humans don’t know these things. Hm. How to explain,” she said, furrowing her brow. “It is kind of like with elves and humans; elves have Altmer, Bosmer, and Dunmer, humans have Redguard, Bretons, Nords, and Imperials. Khajiit have Ohmes and Ohmes-Raht, Suthay and Suthay-Raht, Cathay and Cathay-Raht and so very very many others. Pinkie is Suthay-Raht. Cathay-Raht is, eh …” She looked around, and nodded at Hrongar. “Think of him, then think about a two heads taller and even stronger.”

Applejack blinked. About the only man she could think of that was bigger than the Jarl’s brother was her own brother, and what Pinkie had just described … “Holy hells, that’s huge!” Rainbow said.

“Your friend would give a troll pause, I think,” put in Irileth, and Applejack nodded in agreement. Someone that big, armed, and armored, would be a real force on the battlefield, and based on Pinkie’s performance, at least, the Khajiit were no slouches when it came to battle.

“Yes,” Pinkie said, “so you can see why Mr. Meanie did not put up much of a fight.” There was a general murmur of assent, and she grinned. “So once Pinkie had him at her mercy, she stripped him and tied him up, and packed him in a barrel, and had that barrel put onto a ship heading for the Summerset Isles.”

The table fell silent once more, until Rainbow started laughing. “Damn, Pinkie! That’s … that’s evil!”

“Fitting, though,” said Irileth, a grim smile on her face. “I am sure Thalmor hospitality suited him well.”

“Probably!” Pinkie said, grinning. “After that, though, Pinkie had to leave Elsweyr.”

“Why’s that?” Frothar asked, and the table chuckled.

“Guy like that has friends in low places, kid,” Rainbow said. “And while they might not have really liked him all that much, they’d probably have come after Pinkie for what she did to him.” She chuckled. “Even if he was stupid enough to fall for it.”

“But what about your sister?” Dagny asked. “Wouldn’t they go after her?”

“Daddy owns half the city and likes to make points with fireballs,” Pinkie said.

“Oh.”

The meal was winding down, and the Jarl nodded to his steward, who rose and cleared his throat. Those closest to the Jarl’s table fell silent, but the mead had been flowing freely, and for the great majority of the hall, conversation and feasting continued. “People of Whiterun,” the steward announced, and Applejack raised an eyebrow. The Imperial had a proper set of pipes on him, for all he looked a touch on the scrawny side; he had certainly caught the attention of the crowd. “Your Jarl is about to speak.” Everyone was quiet, now, and all eyes were on Balgruuf.

The Jarl still intimidated her. It wasn’t his size, though he was by no means small; just, Big Macintosh was bigger. It was the way he carried himself; on most people, the fine, gold-trimmed clothes he wore would make them look soft, or pampered. On Balgruuf, it just made him look competent, as if he was exactly where he was meant to be, and that he’d got there by simply being the best. And he owned a city.

“People of Whiterun!” His voice, too, carried authority. The steward could shout, sure; Balgruuf seemed to be matching that volume without trying. There was no shout in his voice, he was just talking that loud. “Tonight, we honor heroes!” The court roared its approval, and it sounded not unlike a war cry. AJ grinned; they might be city folk and noble types, but they were still Nords.

“Yesterday,” the Jarl continued, “a dragon menaced our walls. Our soldiers went to meet it in combat, and we were the victors!” The court roared once again, cheering and clapping; even with the noise, though, the Jarl could be heard. “So tonight,” he said, “we feast! We honor our soldiers!” The court cheered. “We honor Irileth, who led them!” The cheers were now joined with whistles, to which the Dark Elf responded with a scowl. “And above all, we honor the dead.”

The court fell silent, the mood changing from celebratory to somber nearly instantly. “Fourteen sons of Whiterun gave their lives in the slaying of the dragon, and we raise a toast to them tonight. Proventus.” The steward rose once again, this time holding a scroll in front of him. He cleared his throat, and began to read.

Applejack watched the crowd, as the names were read. More than a few faces looked stricken, and her gut twisted. They were familiar. Very, very familiar. “Oh, mama,” she whispered. How long had it been? Right. Apple Bloom had just hit her tenth year.

The steward’s voice ceased, and the Jarl raised his tankard, everyone in court mirroring his action. Applejack shook off her thoughts, and raised her own. “To the honored dead!” the Jarl said, and the court repeated his words. “May their bodies rest easy in the embrace of Arkay, and their souls be well in Sovngarde!” Applejack slammed back her mead, and pounded the table with her now empty tankard; those soldiers deserved an enthusiastic toast, and it seemed the court agreed with her. More toasts were called to specific soldiers, and those that knew them well raised their tankards in response. The Jarl’s table, however, did not raise theirs again, and Applejack followed their example.

When the toasts were complete, the Jarl continued. “And finally,” he said, “we honor the three heroes dealt the dragon its death blows. Know this, my people; these three women bore no debt to Whiterun, they were given no promise of great reward, and they swore no oath to me. Yet still they went to face the dragon, and dealt it the final blow. They are worthy of honor!” The court roared again, and the cheers and applause seemed to shaked the table. Applejack blinked.

“They’re cheering rather hard,” she murmured, leaning over so Rainbow could hear her.

“Ten to one the soldiers have been telling stories,” the Imperial replied. AJ shook her head.

“No bet.”

“They are Rainbow Dash, a duelist of Cyrodiil!” the Jarl said, and Rainbow grinned and gave a bow, drawing both cheers and whistles from the court. “Pinkie Pie, a bard of Elsweyr!” The Khajiit curtsied, and the court cheered again. Applejack snorted; more than a few of the court had cried out “dragon taunter.” She had been wise not to take that bet.

“And finally,” the Jarl said, motioning the court to silence. “I give you Applejack, of the Riverwood Apples, warrior and true daughter of Skyrim!” The cheers and shouts shook the roof, showering the court with dust from the rafters. No one seemed to care; they were far too busy shouting their appreciation. For her. She stared, dumbstruck, until a sharp jab in her ribs got her attention. She gave Rainbow a sharp look, and received one in return.

“Take a bow, AJ,” the Imperial hissed, and jerked her head toward the court. AJ gulped, and did her best; it felt stiff and awkward, but it was a bow, and judging by the continued cheers, they didn’t much mind it. “They seem to like you,” Rainbow said, a smirk on her face.

“Yeah,” AJ replied, and returned to staring and waiting for the cheers to stop.

“You’re blushing.”

“I know.” She did. The heat in her cheeks was a dead giveaway.

“Not used to the wolf whistles, then?”

“No. No, I’m not.” Rainbow snickered, and AJ growled. “You’re not helping.”

“Sorry.” The cheers (and whistles) were dying down, much to her relief. She’d never faced this many people all at once, not even in the town meetings. Those were different, anyway; those people she actually knew. These, she didn’t.

The Jarl was motioning for silence, and, gradually, he got it. “I have decided that these heroes deserve the highest honor we can give them. To that end …” He turned to his steward, who had at some point acquired a leather-wrapped bundle, and nodded. Proventus placed the bundle on the table, and rolled it out, revealing three beautifully crafted axes. They were small weapons, about the size of a hatchet, with hafts of good steel. The blades themselves bore the horse of Whiterun, and AJ gasped. These were …

The Jarl picked up the first of them, and presented it to her, before doing the same for Rainbow and Pinkie. There was a slight glow to the weapon, now that she looked at it more closely; they were enchanted. “Oh mercy,” she whispered. He was going to …

“Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and Pinkie Pie. I name you Thanes of Whiterun. These weapons are symbols of your office; wear them proudly. You have earned them.”

This time, the cheers truly did shake the building. Applejack simply stared at the axe in front of her, shocked beyond words. Thane? Her? Not that it hadn’t happened to Apples before; there were a few out in Cyrodiil that were part of the Imperial Court, she knew, and Alfhild here in Whiterun was close enough to nobility as to make no real difference, but her? She was just Applejack. She was a farm girl from Riverwood.

Rainbow’s hand waving in front of her face snapped her out of it, and she looked over at the Imperial. “What?”

“What just happened?”

“He made us Thanes.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “I heard. I don’t know Skyrim’s titles. What’s a Thane?”

Applejack’s gaze shifted back to her axe. “Thanes are people the Jarl thinks his hold can’t do without,” she said, voice subdued. “Might be major landowners. Might have done somethin’ to earn it.”

“Like killing a dragon.” She nodded. “What are the perks?”

AJ gave Rainbow a look, and received one in response. Fair question, she supposed. Just a little mercenary. “It means you’re a noble. With all the rights of one. Within the hold, at least.” The Imperial blinked, and then grinned. AJ frowned, and narrowed her eyes. “It does not mean y’can just get away with anythin’, Rainbow.”

Her friend’s retort was forestalled by Jarl’s voice, once again addressing the crowd. “Yes!” he said, his voice cutting through the cheers. “The title is indeed well-earned! Whiterun gains great allies in her new Thanes, allies we will need in the coming days.”

“Great. It comes with chains,” Rainbow muttered. Applejack gave the barest of nods; she wouldn’t call them chains, but they were honor-bound to the city now, and to the Jarl. Not a big change for her, but for Rainbow and Pinkie, this would be their first official tie to anything in Skyrim.

“We are especially blessed, for among them is a figure of legend.” She looked up sharply at the Jarl, whose eyes were on the crowd, not her. Was he … ? “Last eve, the Greybeards Spoke. I have no doubt that all of Skyrim heard their summons. I tell you now that the one they called is our own Applejack. Yes, my people. The Dragonborn is a daughter of Skyrim, and your own thane!”

-oOo-

In all of Tamriel, there was no sky to match that of Skyrim’s. Certainly, the moons and the stars were visible on any clear night from any of the provinces, but only here could the train of Kynareth’s Gown be seen. The shimmering curtains of light were in proud view tonight; three brilliant walls of blue that outshone the stars and veiled the moons, and illuminated the world below in soft, soothing tones.

The beauty of it was lost on Rainbow Dash. She was merely thankful for the Gown’s light; without it, she’d have long since lost track of her friend. She’d had no trouble keeping up within Whiterun, of course. She didn’t know the city’s streets, but she did know cities, while Applejack didn’t. Once the Nord had left the city, though, it had gotten a lot harder, especially since she’d simply ignored the road and headed off in what appeared to be a completely random direction.

“Where the hell are you going, AJ?” Rainbow muttered, clambering over a rocky area. It was a darn good Nordic fashion was so practical, since it meant she was wearing good boots as opposed to some kind of stupid slipper. It also meant she’d been allowed to keep her daggers, which were a reassuring weight on her hips, but, she knew, would be wholly inadequate against something big or tough enough. Like a giant. Oh, Stendarr, please let them not run into any giants.

AJ finally came to a stop, looking up at a gargantuan pine. Rainbow slowed as she approached, also looking up at the pine. Was there something special about it? AJ hadn’t seemed to be looking for anything specific, but you never knew. Her eyes shifted back to the Nord, and drifted down to her belt; it was new, like her own, and there, next to AJ’s mace, was her Axe of Whiterun.

“So,” Rainbow said, taking a step forward to stand beside the Nord. “Nice tree.”

“It’s a Charek Pine. Good lumber tree,” Applejack said, her voice subdued. “Big one like that‘d bring in good money at Gerdur’s mill.”

“I bet.” Rainbow tilted her head to the side, and gave her friend a sidelong look. “Gerdur’s a week’s walk off that way, though,” she said, pointing in the general direction of Riverwood. “So that’s not why we’re out here.”

“No, it ain’t.” The Nord’s hand shifted from mace to axe, drawing the thane-symbol from her belt and weighing it in her hand. “My pa had an axe like this. Not a thane’s axe, mind. Just an axe.” She tossed it lightly into the air, caught it, tossed it again, catching it in a different place each time; back of the axe-head, butt of the haft, by the haft just under the head, half-way up. Rainbow raised an eyebrow; she hadn’t known AJ had that kind of dexterity.

“He called it his best friend. Let me and m’ brother practice with it. Taught us how to use it.” There was no warning; one moment, the axe was coming down into her hand, the next, it had thudded into the wood of the pine, a brief flare of green betraying its enchantment.

Rainbow gave a low whistle of appreciation. “Nice throw.”

“Mm.” She looked over at AJ; her friend was just staring at the axe, unmoving. Too bad it was just the two of them out here. Pinkie was a lot better at this kind of thing than she was. Still, she was here, and so it fell to her.

“So,” she said, stepping over to a convenient rock and taking a seat. “You gonna tell me what’s eating you, or am I gonna have to guess? Because I have to warn you, AJ, I’m terrible at guessing.”

The Nord sighed, and took a seat beside her. “It can’t be that hard to figure out.”

Rainbow arched an eyebrow at her. “No? ‘Cause, see, my first guess would be that you’re angry because he made you a Thane, but that’s a terrible guess.”

AJ gave her a skeptical look. “You can’t be serious.”

She wasn’t. But she didn’t want to guess. “Sure I can.”

AJ shook her head. “He called it out in front of the whole court, Rainbow. Named me Dragonborn to the most important people in the hold. The whole city will know by morning, all of Skyrim by the end of the month.”

“So you’ll be well-known. Like that wasn’t gonna happen as it was, what with killing a dragon and all.”

Applejack snorted. “This ain’t like that, Rainbow.”

“You sure?” she asked. “I’m not really seeing the difference.”

“There’s a world of difference between ‘someone who killed a dragon’ and ‘Dragonborn,’ Rainbow,” AJ said softly. “The first is someone you respect. Someone you tell stories about. Someone you look to as an example. I don’t mind all that.”

Rainbow leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. “Dragonborn isn’t?”

“Is and isn’t. It’s like …” She sighed. “It’s hard to explain. I’m not even sure I understand it myself.”

“Well, try anyways?”

“I am! Look, did you see how they looked at me after he named me?”

Rainbow nodded. There had been a marked difference in the crowd. The mood before had been admiring and proud, which was exactly as it should have been, given that they’d killed a dragon. A giant, scaly, toothy, fire and frost-breathing dragon who’d shrugged off having a tower fall on him. She shuddered, but shook it off. Thing was dead. Turned into a skeleton, even.

But after the Jarl had named her Dragonborn … if she thought about it, the looks the crowd had had were a little unsettling. They’d gone past admiring and right into awestruck, for the most part. A few, though … a few had looked almost hungry. Reminded her of some of the street rats back in Cyrodiil, how they’d stare at the bakery, or just hang out near the stores, just to get a chance at looking at some of the food. And turning that look on a person … she shuddered again.

“You don’t look at Dragonborn for examples. You look at ‘em like they’re kings. Or emperors. Or gods.” The Nord dropped her face into her hands, and Rainbow reached over and placed an arm over her shoulders. Just like last night. AJ didn’t want it. She couldn’t really blame her, either; so far, the upsides were rather difficult to see, if they existed.

She frowned. You know, if she didn’t want it … “You don’t have to go through with it, you know.” Applejack looked up her, brow furrowed in confusion. “Well, you’ve done enough, haven’t you? We told them about Helgen, we got them their stone, and we killed their dragon. Far as I can tell, we’ve done more than we had to, and if you want to just pack up and go home, no one has any say to the contrary.”

“The Greybeards-“

“Hang ‘em,” Rainbow said, cutting her off. “Old men on their mountain, right? They don’t know you, aren’t your family, aren’t your friends, aren’t your partners. They have no hold on you. You don’t want to do this, AJ, you don’t have to.”

AJ said nothing in response; she just turned her eyes to the axe, where it still lay in the tree’s trunk, her brow still furrowed. Her expression was of thought, though, and not of confusion. Rainbow decided to just sit there, hand on her shoulder, and let her think. She’d said her piece.

Waiting was hard. And AJ was a slow thinker, or something like that. Rainbow paused in her dagger play, and looked over at her friend, where she still sat on the rock, still looking at the axe. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought she was part of the rock, some kind of very life-like statue.

“Patience, Dash,” she whispered to herself. This was some kind of major life-changing decision the woman was thinking about here. Kind of like when she’d decided to skip out on Cyrodiil. Or earlier, even, back in Bravil. She’d never really thought about those decisions, though. Or most of them, really. “Yeah, and that worked out so well, too,” she muttered, balancing her dagger on her forefinger. Where would she be if she’d taken the time to think about things? A few things she certainly wouldn’t have changed, but others … yeah, some stuff had been really stupid. Really, really stupid.

She looked over at AJ again, and blinked. Something had changed; she could see it in the line of her friend’s body. She sheathed her daggers, and wandered back over, AJ looking up at her as she approached. The Nord turned her gaze back to the axe, and muttered something Rainbow couldn’t quite hear. “What’s that?”

AJ looked up at her again, and Rainbow blinked. The change was in her face, too; there’d been fear, or some cousin to it, all through it before, and that was gone. She looked, now, kind of like she had when she’d tossed herself in front of the dragon, or when she was sighting on her bow. “All the world will burn,” she said, and Rainbow blinked again.

“What?”

“The old legends, the ones Granny taught me when I were a babe, talk of dragons,” the Nord said, rising from her seat. “They say the dragons return at the end of time. When it’s time for the world to die.”

Rainbow frowned, brow furrowing. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

AJ laughed. “Neither do I. But the dragons are here, and I don’t think they’re just here to mark the end of time. I think they’re here to actually end it. All the world will burn.”

This was … morbid. And rather unsettling. “So … what?”

“So,” said Applejack, as she walked over to the tree, “here I am. Dragonborn. Something out of legend, right when dragons are coming back. Someone who can take their souls.” She placed a hand on the axe’s haft, and looked at Rainbow. “Coincidence?”

“When you put it that way …” she said, and AJ nodded.

“Seems mighty unlikely, hm?” She pulled on the axe, and it popped out of the trunk, flashing green in the Gown-lit night. “I don’t want it, Rainbow. But here I am. Dragonborn. And if I don’t do anything, who will?”

Rainbow thought for a minute. Dragons. Who could take them on and hope to win? A king, maybe, with his armies. But Skyrim’s king was dead, or so she’d heard, and the Empire wasn’t in any great state to take on things like dragons. And the elves … well, maybe they could, but you couldn’t trust the elves. “I don’t know,” she said.

“Right.” AJ looked at her axe, running her thumb over the horse of Whiterun. “I like this world, Rainbow. It’s got my family in it. I don’t want to be Dragonborn, but I am. And if I don’t try … how could I face Apple Bloom?”

Rainbow nodded. Figures that little girl was the deciding factor; you didn’t have to spend long with Applejack to figure out just how damned important her sister was to her. “So you’ll be going to answer the Greybeards, then?”

Applejack nodded, and placed her axe back in its belt loop. “It’s the best option at the moment,” she said, turning to look up at the sky. “At the very least, I need to know why they called me.”

-oOo-

She watched, silent, as the two women walked away, and her chance to speak went with them. Such odd fortune, that those two had come to this spot, on this night, when she was there to hear them. She gave a sigh as they disappeared over a rise in the landscape, and reached over to give her companion a scratch. The cat twitched an ear and looked at her, its eyes questioning. “Well, I didn’t want to interrupt.” It continued to stare at her, and she sighed. “I know. I shouldn’t have listened. But,” she said, “I’m kind of glad I did.”

-oOo-

Pinkie waited, her eyes locked in a single direction, as they had been for nearly a full hour. Applejack and Rainbow Dash certainly knew how to take a long time; but then, it was some pretty heavy stuff they had to consider. She didn’t mind the wait, actually. It gave her time to be still, and to let things settle. After all, they weren’t the only ones with things to consider.

She was fairly sure she knew what they would decide; Applejack, after all, was that rare creature who you could absolutely depend on to step up and take responsibility, most especially for the things that she and she alone could do. If it needed doing, and Jackie could do it, then she would do it. Simple as that.

Rainbow, on the other hand, was a little bit more difficult to place. If it was her in Jackie’s place, Pinkie wasn’t sure of Rainbow would go for it. If she did, it would most certainly be for different reasons. She liked glory and recognition; you only had to get her to tell one of her stories to figure out that out. Not that she ever lied about what she’d done. Rainbow earned her glory. The question was, would she decide to stick around?

Probably yes. Something more than just fame-seeking must have motivated her to go and face that dragon. Certainly something more had made her pull that draugr off of AJ, when her daggers did jack diddly squat, rather than run away. Come to think of it, she hadn’t abandoned AJ when the giant attacked, either. Rainbow would go, too.

As for Pinkie? She was going to go. That she knew. Thing was, as with so many things she did, she knew what she was going to do without really knowing why, and this wait had given her the time to think about it. She would probably follow these women into Oblivion itself; she had already followed them to her near death, and never questioned it. But why?

It was an interesting question, and not one she could easily answer. There was Atahbah’s push, of course, and Ri’saad’s suggestion, but neither of them had made the decision. Unca Sheggy had whispered of fun, and they had looked like, and it certainly had been fun; but it hadn’t been Unca Sheggy who’d gone and followed them, and lured off a giant, and then asked to join up with them.

She tilted her head, ears twitching forward. Actually, that had been just plain curiosity. They were interesting, those two; one of the few who came into the camp and didn’t sneer, or weren’t grumpy-guts the entire time, and with Atahbah’s prodding and Sheggy’s whispers, she’d figured, why not? After that? Well, they’d said yes. They’d chatted. They’d sang. They’d eaten together. They’d fought together.

That was it, then, she decided, and straightened, eyes tracking two distant figures. They’d traveled together, and they’d become friends. They liked her, and she liked them. Oh, she liked her Khajiit friends, too, but most were in in Elsweyr, and here, only Khayla was best friend material. Ri’saad and Atahbah were older, and Ma’randru-jo was all serious and full of himself. They didn’t need her, either. Rainbow and Applejack did. And that, she decided, grinning to herself, was why she would go with them.

She rose from her perch, moving for the first time since she had started her vigil, and ran forward to meet her friends. She’d had enough of waiting.

-oOo-

Applejack placed a hand on the horse’s head, gently stroking and making a cooing noise. The dun whickered in response, shoving her head into the caress, and the woman smiled. Golden Harvest. It was a good name, she thought; Jervar must have picked it, given the proud way he’d said it when she’d asked.

Her eyes flicked over to her friends, checking to make sure they were handling things okay. She was pleasantly surprised; Rainbow was a touch awkward, but her horse, a dapple grey by the name of Bright Eyes, was clearly of a cheerful temperament and was more than willing to make up the difference. Pinkie’s cream colored Junebug was either a very mellow horse, or Khajiit simply smelled enough like humans that their resemblance large cats wasn’t an issue. Certainly, none of them were acting nervous around her.

She returned her attention to her own horse, giving the mare a pat on the neck. She was a beautiful horse; they were all beautiful, really, and princely gifts. The Jarl had been generous, and, she thought, just a touch devious in the giving. After all, what better way to speed her on her way to whatever her dragonborn destiny held than to give her a horse to bear her there? Not that she would complain. Oh no. She had not thought to own a horse in her lifetime, and certainly not one so grand as Golden Harvest.

“You like her, then?”

She turned toward Jervar, and nodded, giving him a smile. “You and your father raise good horses.”

The man grinned, and nodded. “I’ll make sure to tell him you said so. He’ll like that.”

“All set, Jackie!” Pinkie said, already mounted on Junebug’s back, and Applejack nodded.

“Thanks again, Jervar,” she said as she swung herself into the saddle, and the man nodded.

“Safe travels!”

“You know,” she said, as they crossed the bridge towards Riverwood, “you girls don’t gotta come with.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Rainbow. “But I am.”

“Same here!” Pinkie said, a grin on her face.

Applejack looked from one to the other, frowning a bit. Did they really get what was in store? “You sure about that, girls? This isn’t gonna be something quick, like getting the Dragonstone. For all I know, this could take the rest of my life.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Rainbow. “That’s alright though. I didn’t have any real plans for the next five years as it was.”

“It’ll be an adventure! Pinkie likes adventures.”

She blinked. Just like that? Really? “Y’all absolutely sure, girls? I mean, this is my … thing. I’m the one as got saddled with it. You two ain’t got any obligation to-“

“AJ,” said Rainbow, her flat tone cutting the Nord off. “I said, I know.” She turned to face her, eyes narrowed. “Like I said, I really didn’t have plans. But more importantly, AJ, I’m not gonna just up and leave you right when it’s getting tough. You gave me a place to stay when I got out of Helgen. You went with me to face that dragon, and as I recall, the Jarl didn’t ask you to do it, he asked me. You didn’t ditch on me, so what kind of friend would I be if I ditched on you? That’s just not cool. Not cool at all.”

Applejack stared, mouth slightly open. Her eyes slipped over to Pinkie, who giggled. “Pinkie Pie wouldn’t ditch her friends either, Jackie,” the Khajiit said, winking at her. “And like she said, it’ll be an adventure! A ballad for the ages!”

The Nord managed to pull her mouth closed, and turned her attention back to the road, their path still well lit by Kynareth’s Gown. For all her determination back at the pine tree, she’d felt like someone had strapped a boulder to her back. Now though … now it didn’t really seem so bad. “Rainbow … Pinkie …” she said, her voice a touch husky. “Thank you.”

“Hey. That’s what friends are for, am I right, Pinkie?”

“Yep, you are!”

-oOo-

“’Tis a good axe, sis,” Big Macintosh said, turning the weapon over in his hands. “Good balance. Enchanted?”

Applejack nodded, her eyes on Apple Bloom. The little girl had hit it right off with Pinkie on their last visit, and the two were currently having a great deal of fun kicking a hacky sack back and forth. Pinkie executed a particularly complex series of juggles and kicks, much to the girl’s delight, and Applejack smiled.

“Horse of Whiterun on the blade,” he said, running his thumb over the insignia. “That stone ya went to get must have been mighty important.”

She shook her head. “They ain’t give us those for getting the stone.”

Macintosh looked over at her, a look of surprise on his face. They’d done something more hazardous than barrow-delving? “Shoot, sis. What’d you three do?”

She sighed. “You won’t believe it.”

“Maybe I will, and maybe I won’t,” he said, handing the axe back to her. “Ain’t gonna leave it lie, though.”

“I know.” She fixed him with a sharp gaze, and told him, completely straight, “We killed a dragon.”

Big Macintosh stared at her for a moment, slowly chewing on his haystalk. He knew his sister, and she was a terrible liar. Any time she tried to fudge, it’d be writ plain on her face. So either she was telling the truth, or she’d learned how to lie, because none of the tells were there. “Nope,” he said. “Don’t believe it.”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “I told you.”

“Nah, I believe you. Just don’t believe it.” He turned his eyes to Apple Bloom at a squeal from the girl, who was now attempting to flee from the menacing Pinkie by climbing a tree. Not the wisest of choices. “How’d you take it down?”

“Luck, mostly. And we had help; Jarl’s housecarl and a score of guards. But mostly, mostly, it was luck.”

Mac scratched his head, giving her a sideways glance. There was a lot more to that story, for certain sure. “And when are ya heading back out, then?”

“Tomorrow, I thi- wait.” She turned to look him straight in the eye. “How’d you know?”

“Couple o’ things,” he said, “but mostly it’s that y’ ain’t makin’ plans to stable the horses.” Applejack blinked. “How long you gonna be, AJ?”

Her face fell. “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s … complicated.”

He grunted. “Must be. What happened?”

She told him. He stared. Once again, there was no trace of a lie on her face, and the Greybeard’s call, well … everyone had heard that. But this … his sister? Dragonborn? Sure, she was special, he’d always known that, but this was something else. This meant … different things. “You sure it’s you? And not Miss Dash? Or her?” he said, tilting his head in the direction of Pinkie. Applejack shook her head.

“I hate to admit it, but a part o’ me wishes it was.” She turned her eyes to the Khajiit, frown on her face. “Then it wouldn’t be on me to do it. I’d be the one insistin’ on helpin’ a friend, and somehow that’d make it easier.” She shook her head again. “This whole thing is confusin’, Macintosh. I still don’t get why me.”

He sighed, and put a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t get it, either. You belong here.” She gave the barest of nods, and he squeezed. “You’ve made the decision to go, though, haven’t you?” Again, she nodded.

“Dragons won’t stop themselves. And, well …”

“Apple Bloom,” he said, simply, and she nodded. “It’s alright, sis. I won’t say the farm won’t be the worse for you bein’ gone, but I can run her alright. An’ the town’ll pitch in. We’ll be alright.”

“I know.” She hung her head. “I just wish I didn’t have to go.”

“Me too, sis. Me too.”

Applejack spread the blanket out and smoothed the wrinkles, nodding her thanks to Pinkie for her help in the process. It was not long before the food was set out, and everyone was seated comfortably and eating quietly. It had been Granny’s idea, as usual, for the Apples (honorary members included) to go for a picnic in the lee of the Guardian Stones. She smiled, watching, as the old woman engaged Rainbow in a lengthy history lesson, and snickered at the inevitable headslap when her friend’s expression started going blank.

Granny hadn’t asked if she was staying, or going. She’d taken just the one look at her, and the new horses, nodded her head, and started making plans for the picnic. It was rather familiar, actually. The last time they’d come here was right before Big Mac had left for his stint in the Legion. Then, as now, they had picnicked here. There were no prayers said. No entreaties to the Aedra, nor to the Daedra. So sacrifices, no rituals, no tearful requests for promises that no honest person could make. Just family, food, and the Guardian Stones.

Applejack laughed and ruffled her sister’s hair, drawing a grin from the girl. Let the Guardians worry on fate. Helgen, High Hrothgar, and the Greybeards could wait until tomorrow; today, she would spend with what she loved.

Interlude - Distant Omens

A chill ran down his spine, despite the relative warmth of the hall. The frigid winds outside were kept at bay by stone and enchantment, but Winterhold was aptly named. The frozen hand of Winter had gripped this place in ages long past and never seemed to let go completely, even in the height of summer. Tolfdir set his quill down and rubbed his arms reflexively. The parchment before him was one of a dozen or so similar pages that were swiftly stacking up on his desk, and his wrist and fingers had gone numb some hours ago.

"Master Tolfdir?" The old man turned to find the source of the voice, and smiled warmly when he found it.

"Ah, Miss Sparkle! Come in, do come in." He gestured to a seat just inside the door. "Please, have a seat." The woman nodded in appreciation, pulling back the hood of her robes as she settled into the chair. She was a pretty woman; long dark hair, deep chestnut skin, and marvelously bright lavender eyes. Tolfdir still wasn't completely sure how those had come about. Her cheeks were flushed from the exposure to the icy winds outside, no doubt from time spent at the pinnacle of the Hall of the Elements.

"Twilight, my dear," Tolfdir continued, leaning against the table, "You've been spending more time up on that tower than is good for you. I know we have some strong healers in our ranks, but that's no excuse for you to go and catch cold."

"I'm fine, Tolfdir," Twilight replied with a smirk, before noticing the stack of paper on his desk. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Not at all, not at all. My fingers could use the rest, and the reports can wait a bit. Now, what can I do for you today?" The Breton seemed to consider her words carefully before answering.

"Have you heard about the dragons, Tolfdir?" she asked. "The stories filtering north from Whiterun and Falkreath?"

"I'd have to be deaf as a stone not to have heard," Tolfdir chuckled. "The rumors are on everyone’s lips these days, especially the Novices. It seems to be the only thing they talk about." He gave Twilight a searching look. "If you're here to ask if they're true, I know no more than anyone else." Twilight shook her head emphatically at the suggestion.

"No no, Tolfdir. Nothing like that. I've actually come to tell you that... well... I know they're true." The older mage raised an eyebrow at that revelation.

"How can you know that for certain, Twilight?"

"I saw one," she answered, almost nonchalantly. This time, both eyebrows shot upwards in alarm and a worried frown tugged at Tolfdir's mouth.

"Where? I thought the rumors said they were staying well south of Windhelm!" Twilight raised a hand to slow her mentor's train of thought.

"It's okay, Tolfdir! The rumors are still true! I saw it while using this to look at the Throat of the World last week." She reached into her satchel and pulled out a collapsed length of metal tubes made of Dwemer metal, proffering it to Tolfdir. It was a portable spyglass, and a rather good one at that. "I saw one fly through my field of view. Since then, I've had three more sightings, all in the same area."

"Three separate dragons?" Tolfdir asked, looking for clarification. Twilight shook her head uncertainly.

"I can't say for sure. They were too fast and too out-of-focus to be absolutely certain. It could have all been the same dragon, for all I saw, but it was definitely a dragon." Tolfdir's frown redoubled.

"So... the ancient legends come to life..." His expression went vacant for a few moments before he blinked and shook his head. "This is dire news indeed. I'll be sure to let Arch-mage Aren know as soon as he's free." He expected Twilight to dismiss herself, but instead she was looking at him expectantly. "Something else on your mind, Miss Sparkle?"

"Yes, actually," she answered, seeming rather excited. "In light of this new information, I would like to request the formation of an official expedition to the areas near the dragon sightings in order to study th-"

"Absolutely not," Tolfdir interjected.

"I ... what?" She seemed startled. Clearly she hadn't expected that response.

"The College is far too busy right now, my dear, especially with the excavation of Saarthal in full swing. The Masters have too much interest vested in those ruins to follow you on such a venture, and the apprentices and novice students..." He shook his head vehemently. "They are not ready for a challenge on the scale of dragons, if half the legends are true. I will not allow them such risks. I'm sorry, Twilight, but your request is denied. An official expedition is out of the question."

"But... but, I..." She seemed to collapse in on herself, slumping down in her seat, head hanging. She looked... crushed. Tolfdir sighed heavily, running a hand through his thinning white hair.

"No, Twilight. An expedition is impossible... but you know the College always encourages personal projects." That caught her attention, her head rising sharply.

"Oh! But... alone?"
Tolfdir nodded confidently. "You're a skilled mage, Miss Sparkle. I dare say, you're the brightest student of the arcane we've seen here in a long time. So long as you stay alert and keep your wits about you on the road, you should be fine."

"You know ... You're absolutely right, Tolfdir! I can do this myself, and I'll move a whole lot faster on my own. Thank you so much!" She rose sharply from her seat, giving her mentor a quick hug before grabbing her spyglass and striding quickly for the door. "I'll make sure to get you my notes before I leave so you can present them to the Arch-mage!" The door swung open and shut before the Master could reply. He stood there for a moment, smiling and shaking his head.

"I'm sure you will, my dear Twilight. I'm sure you will." He sighed and turned to his desk once more, lowering himself into the chair. "Now then... where was I?"

It was a clear day, for once. Not a single snowflake fell from the sky. A good start to her journey. "Well... here I go. Ready Lyra?" Her horse snorted, bringing out a smile from Twilight as she stroked her neck. "I'll take that as a yes. Let's head on out, then!" With a light snap of the reigns, Twilight began the long trip, heading south towards where the Throat of the World stood proudly on the horizon; heading south towards the dragons.

Chapter 5 - The Steps

Helgen. A shiver ran through her at the sight of its gates. Its walls still stood, and the gates were closed, the scorched wood looking surprisingly sturdy. There was little doubt that others had been through here after the town was sacked; whatever had not burned or been taken by the few survivors would have been looted by now, if Skyrim was anything like the rest of Tamriel. “Are you sure there’s not a way around?” Rainbow asked, eyeing the gates with a growing trepidation.

Applejack shook her head. “Not without going all the way back to Whiterun, heading toward Windhelm, and circling around the base of the mountain. No good roads on that path, either.” Rainbow grimaced. That’d be a whole lot of wasted travel. Helgen sat right in the middle of the only easy pass through the mountains on this side, too, meaning that it was through there or nowhere. She sighed, and nodded, patting Bright Eyes on the neck as she dismounted. “Let’s go, then.”

They entered the town cautiously, the humans with their bows out and Pinkie with her axe, her giant ears standing at full attention. Not a one of them bore anything other than a grim expression, and for good reason. The fires, and the dragon, had ravaged Helgen, leaving not a single building untouched. Roofs had collapsed or been torn off, walls had been knocked over, and not a single building did not stand open to the elements. Even the keep was no exception: a great gaping hole in its upper levels bore testament to the power of a dragon.
Rainbow forced down a shudder. She could see it all, still; the fire, the shouting, the screaming, the fighting, the running. Not that she would let that stop her. She was Rainbow Dash, dammit, the fastest hands in all of Cyrodiil, and probably Skyrim, too! In the past month, she’d taken on bandits, a giant, the walking dead, and a dragon, and not only lived to tell the tale but triumphed over all of ‘em! Okay, she’d had help, but still. This wasn’t gonna get to her.

She came to a dead halt, staring at the ground. There was an elongated scorch mark on the cobblestone, where dragon fire had permanently seared the road. It was the outline of the fire’s target that had her staring. She could remember, as she had fled, turning just long enough to see … to see …

She jumped at the hand on her shoulder, barely managing to suppress a yelp. Turning, she glared at Applejack, who just returned the glare with a worried gaze. “You alright, sugar cube?”

“I’m fine,” she snapped, brushing off the hand and stomping forward, making very sure not to look at the ground again. Not that it was getting to her. She just didn’t want to look at it. Who would right? It was just morbid, to stare at things like that.

Pinkie’s warning cry whipped her around, just in time to feel the breeze of the arrow as it passed by her ear. She had her own arrow nocked and her bow drawn in the work of a moment, but she had no target; the streets were bare of enemies. “T’ the horses!” cried Applejack, who was already moving to mount hers, and Rainbow was quick to follow suit. They were their best bet to escape.

She did not see where it came from. One moment, she was running for Bright Eyes, praying that the horse wouldn’t shy from her, the next, she was on the ground, her body painfully stiff, unable to do anything but take the shallowest of breaths. With her eyes locked open, she could only watch as Applejack suddenly stiffened in her saddle, and began to slide. She would have winced as her friend crashed heavily to the ground, but even that little motion was denied her.

Pinkie. She couldn’t see Pinkie. She could only see the bandits, armored in fur and hide, half of them lizards, as they cautiously approached the panicked horse. None of them were dumb enough to come from behind, unfortunately, but none seemed willing to actually get in range of horse’s front kick either. And where was Pinkie? Was she caught, too? Had she escaped? Oblivion take it, if she could only move!

The world moved; someone was rolling her over. She soon found herself staring into a pair of leering, crimson eyes. The Dark Elf’s hand moved into view, glowing green with magic, and she felt her body stiffen once again as he touched her face, which explained what had happened. She glared at him. Magic was cheating, dammit!

The elf chuckled. “We’ve struck some nice prizes, boys!” he said, drawing a smattering of laughs and cheers from the other bandits. “Get the women disarmed and tied, and make sure not to spook the horses. Those are valuable animals.” As the bandits set to work, the elf looked down at her, and grinned a worrisome grin. No, she definitely did not like the look in his eyes.

-oOo-

“You see a way out of this?” the Nord whispered.

Rainbow did not respond immediately. The bandits had been rather professional in their ambush, but typically lazy in their follow-up. Granted, the bandits outnumbered them ten to three and had made sure to take away their weapons. But putting them all together, with only their hands bound and no gags? Sloppy. And not one of them knew how to really tie someone up. Applejack looked over at her, frowning. “What’s with all the squirming?”

“Shh,” she hissed. “I’m almost free.” Applejack raised an eyebrow, but thankfully kept her mouth shut. With a final pull, and a low grunt of satisfaction, Rainbow was free, her bracers sliding over her hands and off her arms. The fools hadn’t had the wit to tie the rope around skin. Then again, they probably hadn’t ever had to bind someone like her.

With her hands free, some of the panic that she had been forcing down lessened. Unfortunately, their situation was still not all that much better. They were still weaponless, outnumbered, and that mage could just paralyze them again at the first sign of trouble, which was why she still her arms uncomfortably behind her. Still, it was progress. She spared a glance to her right, at her other friend. Pinkie had been rather disturbingly quiet since getting hit by the mage’s spell; from what she could tell, the cat had been the first of his targets. “Pinks?” she murmured. “You alright?”

The Khajiit twitched an ear in her direction, but did not respond. At least not with words. Rainbow’s eyes widened as something soft and distinctly furry slid down her arms, lingering at her free hands. She’d forgotten just how … versatile … the tails could be. That was definitely a signal; knowing Khajiit, and Pinkie in particular, she wouldn’t be surprised if her friend had gotten out of her bonds faster than she had. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

A quick look confirmed that the bandits were still busy dividing the spoils, rooting through their saddlebags and bickering over who got what. The mage was preoccupied with the horses, apparently wanting to get on their good side as quickly as possible. They were in the clear for the moment. “Okay,” she muttered, “what are our options?”

“We can’t take ‘em, can we?” asked Applejack, her tone dark.

“I don’t think so. We’d be better off running.”

The Nord grimaced. “That don’t sit right.”

“Ten to three, AJ, and we’ve got no weapons.”

“I’m aware of that,” Applejack murmured. “It still don’t sit right. Plus I don’t think I can outrun an arrow.”

“Well, best’d be to sneak out while they ain’t looking.”

Applejack gave her a sidelong glance. “I don’t sneak well, RD.”

Rainbow considered this. It was true. Applejack really didn’t sneak very well. She had a heavy trod, especially in that armor of hers, and while it wasn’t as clanky as it might have been, there was still some serious danger of it making too much noise. She gritted her teeth. This sucked. They had no options. They’d had more against the dragon, dammit; but then, the dragon hadn’t ambushed them. And they’d outnumbered it. Even if that hadn’t really mattered all that much in the long run. Stendarr’s grace, what were they going to do?

“One’s coming this way,” AJ muttered, and Rainbow opened her eyes. One of the lizards, a large, green-scaled male, clad in what amounted to little more than leather rags, was heading towards them with a scowl on his face. Or at least, she thought it was a scowl; it wasn’t exactly easy to read their faces. He halted directly over them, looking down at them with a suspicious glare.

“You were talking. Prisoners do not talk,” he said, his voice raspy. Huh. She’d half expected him to hiss.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dash said. “I thought since, you know, you’d just kinda put us here, without, like, telling us that, that it was okay.”
The lizard’s eyes narrowed, and his scowl deepened. Or she thought it was a scowl. Yep, had to be a scowl. Good, that meant she could get to him. “Prisoners do not talk,” he hissed.

“Uh huh. And yet, I’m talking. Talk talk talk. Blah blah blah.” Applejack was looking at her like she’d gone crazy. Maybe she had. There wasn’t really any kind of plan behind this, just her gut. It had never steered her wrong before. Well. At least not disastrously wrong. Except for that one time. Two times. Er. Three.

Shit.

She’d made him angry, which was, she supposed, what she’d been going for. She just hoped no one was going to be stupid and try to stop him from hitting her. She could take it. Which, she had to admit, as the world spun around for a half-second, didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like a bitch. “Prisoners.” Ow. “Don’t.” Ow. “Talk.” Hells.

The lizard turned to walk away, and she frowned. That wouldn’t do. The problem, of course, was Applejack and Pinkie Pie. More Applejack, really. Pinkie was just giving her a knowing look. Applejack was the one with the black glower. She fixed her with a gaze, and pointedly shook her head. “Don’t do anything,” she mouthed. AJ opened her mouth, and she shook her head again.

“Hey!” she called, and the lizard stopped, stock still. “Still talking, here. Who taught you to hit, pussywillow?” He turned around, stalking slowly towards her. She sneered at him. “Can’t have been anybody any good. I’ve been hit harder by a twelve year old girl!” That was actually true. Except the girl had used a tree branch.

It took all her resolve not to go for the knives on his belt. Not yet. She could take the hits. Why, though? Why was she doing this? What was the plan here? Provoke the guard, get the crap beat out of her, and then … what? She blinked, as the next blow failed to come. That didn’t seem right. It had only been four hits; guys like this usually went for broke.

She shook her head, bringing the world back into focus, and had to hide a grin. The mage had acted. Of course. Of course. That was the plan. Right. What was the elf saying? Undamaged? Yeah. Undamaged. Don’t hurt the merchandise. Like the horses, they were worth more healthy. Now if her ears would just stop ringing, she could maybe get on with the next bit. What was the next bit? She blinked. The next bit apparently involved the elf suddenly collapsing. What the hell?

The lizard seemed to be equally shocked. He didn’t stay that way for long, though, as an angry buzzing sound heralded his own sudden collapse, his head landing at Rainbow’s feet. She stared, dumbstruck, and winced as a wooden arrow clattered to the ground beside her. Arrow? No arrowhead, though. But an arrow.

She blinked, as pink fur obscured her vision. “Pinkie, what are you-”

“Help’s here, Dashie! Come on, time to go!”

Oh. Oh! She grinned, and nodded, going straight for the daggers on the lizard’s belt. Not as good as her daggers, but better than nothing. And yes, help had certainly arrived. Two more of the bandits had fallen, and the rest were looking for the source of the sniper. No one was paying them any attention. So much the better.

A fifth collapsed to the ground as she watched, and she giggled as the rest finally wised up and took cover. “Ready, girls?” she said, testing the heft of the daggers. Not the greatest balance, but serviceable.

“Ready,” said Applejack. She didn’t have her maces, but the way she was clenching her armored fists, that probably didn’t much matter.

“Ready!” said Pinkie, grinning, which had the side effect of showing off all her very pointy teeth. She didn’t have her axe, either, but, Rainbow thought, eyeing the Khajiit’s outstretched claws, that probably didn’t much matter either.

“Right. Let’s kick some tail.”

-oOo-

Applejack dragged the last of the bodies to the middle of what had once been the square, and tossed it onto the pile. The battle had been short, and brutal; without the advantages of magic, surprise, and numbers, the bandits hadn’t lasted very long. She flexed her fingers, staring at the body. There was the bloody imprint of a fist on his face, from a blow that had broken both jaw and neck. It had been easy. Far too easy. She hadn’t expected the blow to connect, and when it had … She shook her head. More and more, she was realizing just how much her brother had taught her.

“You checked their belts, right?” asked Rainbow, who had walked up behind her.

She nodded, patting the coin purse on her own belt. “They didn’t have much. Probably hadn’t been here very long. What about the rest?”

“Tied. Properly. Though I’m not sure it matters with the mage,” she said, frowning. Applejack raised an eyebrow.

“What do ya mean?”

“His neck’s broken. He’s alive, but…” She shrugged, and Applejack nodded. Nobody lived very long with a broken neck.

“What’ll we do with ‘em?”

Rainbow shrugged again. “You know local law better’n me. What’s the penalty for banditry?”

She sighed. “Depends on the Hold. Usually doesn’t matter, though. Not many bandits get taken alive.”

“Well we can’t take ‘em with us. And we can’t let ‘em loose.”

“Aye.” There was really only one option. It was not one she liked. As much as justice had called for it, she had taken no pleasure in the execution of Gedel. Nor would she take any pleasure in this. “Road law calls for their execution,” she said, and was relieved to note that Rainbow looked no more pleased with it than her. “We should take care of that as quickly as possible.”

“Yes. We should. And then we can go looking for our shadow.”

“To thank him,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Right, Rainbow?”

“Hopefully.” The Imperial replied, her voice tight. “I’d really rather a friend than another enemy.”

She stood, silent and still, in the shadow of an empty doorway, watching as the two humans pulled the captured bandits to their feet, and walked them over to a wall. It was not hard to guess what they were doing, not when the Khajiit was laying out their bows, a single arrow beside each. Three prisoners. Three arrows. One shaft per body. Road law.
She watched, still, as the Imperial tied the bandits to a wooden beam, to keep them in place, and as the Nord removed their gags. The women had honor; but then, she had known that already. She faded back into the shadows as they picked up the bows, averting her eyes and simply listening instead. She winced as the Nord barked the order, and trembled at the sound of arrows striking flesh, sinking to her knees.

It had been necessary. Like the smart cat, that kills the hunter when he sleeps. But that did not make it easier for her.

It had been necessary. She knew that. But that had not made it easier to nock the arrow and draw the bow. The temptation to miss, to let the shaft go wide, had been huge. But then she’d looked into the bandit’s eyes, and seen his sneer. If she’d let him go, someone else would have paid the price. So she had not.

She sighed, looking over at her friends. Rainbow looked angry; but then, she would be. She hated to kill outside of duels, and the bandits had forced her hand. And Pinkie … she looked deflated, almost, with no smile on her face and her ears laid back against her head. Even her tail hung low, as if she did not have the will to lift it. It had been a trial for each of them.
They were free now, though, and thanks to an unknown archer. One who used blunt-tipped arrows. And who was, hopefully, still in the area. “Pinkie,” she said, and the Khajiit looked at her. “Any clue where the archer is?”

Pinkie thought for a moment, her ears flipping up and her nostrils flaring. After a moment, she shook her head. “Pinkie smells smoke, man, mer, and lizard, but hears nothing but us. Our friend is hiding, or flown. Do we go searching?”
Dig through the ruins of Helgen, looking for a maybe ally who hid from them, and did not want to be found? She looked to Rainbow – the woman’s eyes were firmly on the gate out. “No,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “’Twould take too long and we’d probably find squat. Better to move on, I think.”

“Pinkie thinks so, too.”

She watched, as they readied the horses, her fingers clenching and unclenching in the soft fur of her companion. This, too, had been a chance, to go out there and meet them. Perhaps the best chance, after saving them from capture. She could have told them any story: that she was a ranger in service to Falkreath, a hired scout for either Imperials or Stormcloaks, a simple hunter who had happened by, or even on her way to the mountain, to see what the shouting was all about.

But she had let it pass. Again. And they were leaving.

She couldn’t bear the looks, or the questions, or the wonderings. Any lie she told would fail, and the truth would make them suspicious. They would turn her away, and that would hurt. But she couldn’t leave them, either. Not with her knowing. Not with hearing what she’d heard and seeing what she’d seen, and following them this long.

“Sorry, Angel kitty,” she whispered to the cat beside her. “We’re not going to talk to them.”

-oOo-

“Didn’t you say you grew up here?” Rainbow asked, as she handed Bright Eyes’ reins to the stablehand.

“Aye,” AJ replied, giving Golden Harvest a reassuring pat on the nose. The horses had been understandably skittish even after they’d left Helgen, requiring frequent stops to calm their nerves with soothing words and rubdowns. It had helped when they’d stopped at a stream and taken the time to wash, cleansing themselves of the stink of battle and death. Another few days, and they’d reached Ivarstead. “Granny’s old farm is here,” she continued. “Uncle on my mother’s side took it over when we moved to Riverwood with Gerdur.”

Rainbow raised an eyebrow, looking from AJ to the inn’s sign, and back again. “So, why are we staying at the inn, then?”

The Nord scratched her head, eyes shifting to the side a touch. “Well, it ain’t quite neighborly to drop in so late without having sent ahead. And we’ve got the funds for it from the Jarl, anyway, so might as well give it to ol’ Joe (Innkeeper’s name placehold). Pilgrim travel’s been down, what with the war an’ all.”

“Uh huh.” That sounded reasonable enough, but Applejack was looking shifty, which meant she was hiding something. Girl couldn’t lie for anything, not even when she wasn’t really lying. “And?”

“Aaand … nothing?” Terrible at it. Her nose was wrinkling, even. Rainbow slugged her in the arm, shaking her head.

“Like I’m going to believe you’d pass up the chance to visit family after you dragged us into a giant fight just so you could see your cousin in Whiterun.”

“Oh, now come on! That giant wasn’t supposed to be there, and they don’t usually attack like that, anyway.”

“Yeah, but we still went toward it.” With a roll of her eyes, she reached out to grab the woman’s arm and pull her around, just before they could enter the inn. “Come on, AJ. What’s the issue?”

Applejack’s eyes narrowed, and she yanked her arm from Rainbow’s grasp. “I ain’t really feel like explainin’ it, alright? Stop pushin’.”
The Imperial stared as her friend bulled her way into the inn, boots heavy on the wooden floor. “Eesh. I was just askin’. Don’t gotta snap.”

“She doesn’t like the answer, I don’t think.” Rainbow turned, one eyebrow raised at Pinkie.

“What do you mean?”

“Hmm,” the Khajiit mused, scratching at her chin. “Well, if she liked the answer she wouldn’t have any problem sharing it, so since she doesn’t want to explain it she must not like it all that much, and that means it’s probably something she’s not all that proud of or that she thinks might hurt somebody or something like that, so she gets prickly when she’s prodded because she’s not happy with the answer and because she’s not happy with the answer she’s also not very happy with herself. Make sense?”

Rainbow blinked. She thought she’d caught all of that. Or at least the gist of. “Uh … yeah. Basically don’t push her on it right now?”

“Pinkie thinks that would be best.”

Rainbow nodded, and moved to enter the inn – only for the door to open as she reached for it, and someone to come rushing out, just barely missing crashing into her. “Excuse you!” she said, stumbling back – but there was no response. The blue-robed woman was already off the porch and heading for the stables, moving with the urgency of purpose. Rainbow blinked; the hell could be so important you’d miss almost smashing into someone?

“Bah.” She flicked her hand at the woman’s retreating back, and strode into the inn. Not worth chasing down for an apology, anyway. She had enough problems to deal with. Like a moody Nord.

-oOo-

“How many steps is it again?” Rainbow asked, shifting from foot to foot, her eyes on the path up the mountain. You couldn’t see much of the trail, really, since there were trees and rocks and such all along the way up, but she could see enough of it to know that it was a switchback trail. Left, then right, then left, then right. Gradual slope. Longer trek.

“They’re called the seven thousand steps,” AJ answered, adjusting the straps on her packs. She’d picked up a second one from some guy named Klimmek. Supplies for the Greybeards, because apparently being a shutaway hermit entitled you to free food from someone you never saw or spoke to ever. Nords.

“Seven thousand, huh?” It wasn’t really all that much, when you put it in perspective. She’d walked longer distances. Just in the past month, even. But those distances had also not been going primarily up, and were not wolf-infested, and were for reasons other than a bunch of old guys’ shouted summons. If this were Cyrodiil, or Morrowind, some enterprising mage would have set up a teleport service. But this was Skyrim. Here, you walked, and fought off wolves, bears, and bandits, and liked it because it gave you something to boast about in the taverns.

Actually that last bit wasn’t so bad. She could get behind boast-worthy stories.

“Well, I’m not sure it’s actually seven thousand. And it’s certainly not actual steps the whole way. But it’s, well …” AJ paused in her fiddling, her brow furrowing. “What’s the word here …”

“Dramatic.” The Nord nodded to Pinkie.

“Aye. Dramatic.”

“And impressive-sounding, which makes it better for stories.” Rainbow raised an eyebrow, looking the Khajiit over. Ears twitching, claws scratching at her chin … that little slant to her eyes, too. She was thinking up a song. “Up the seven thousand steps the Dovahkiin did climb, and every step was treacherous made by never-melting rime.” Yep.

The Khajiit grinned. “That line works well. You think so, AJ?”

Applejack, on the other hand, was frowning. “I guess. I hope it don’t come true, though – it’ll be a long way down if’n one of us slips on the way up.”

“Eh, we’ll be fine,” Rainbow said, starting forward. “Can’t be much worse than the climb to the barrow, right?”
Applejack sighed. “I certainly hope so.”

-oOo-

She froze. The rock had just moved, a subtle shifting that shook the snow from its surface. Three eyes blinked open in its dark, leathery surface, white fur rippling in the blowing wind. Slowly, the creature stood, levering itself up on arms as thick as logs. For a moment, all was silent … and then it opened its wide, toothy mouth, and roared.

Applejack stumbled backward, hands fumbling for her maces; she heard Rainbow’s shout of surprise, her question of “What the hell is that?” but she had no time to reply. The brute was already on her, swinging at her with a fist the size of her head. It missed by inches, the wind of its passing making her squint.

“Troll!” came the cry, and Pinkie’s axe flashed past her, slamming into the creature’s shoulder; now it was its turn to stumble backward, yelling its pained rage as the axe’s frost swirled over its skin. It wasn’t enough. An upward swing of its other hand, and Pinkie was knocked backward, falling to her back, her axe clattering to the ground. Applejack yelled, maces finally in hand, and bulled forward, aiming a staggering strike at its face, but it saw her coming, and blocked with an arm. Her mace struck hard, if not as hard as she wanted, but did little more than bloody the skin. It shoved, and she fell, feet slipping on the snowy ground and spilling her on her rump. The impact knocked the breath out of her, and she braced herself for a crushing blow.

The follow-up blow did not come – Rainbow had flanked the creature, her feet remarkably steady on the treacherous surface, and she struck hard, the point of her dagger sinking into the creature’s back. She crouched as a follow-up, slicing at its heel as its counter-swing passed over her head, and rolled to the side to keep out of its sight. Another stab at its leg, and it swung around again – but again, Rainbow was not there. She seemed to dance around the troll, dodging its strikes and drawing blood with every flash of her daggers.

A furry hand grasped hers, and she struggled to her feet with Pinkie’s aid. Giving her friend a nod of thanks, she gripped her maces, and stalked forward, looking for an opportunity to enter the fray. She did not have to wait long – a misstep on Rainbow’s part pitched her to the ground, and the beast reared up, ready to slam both fists down on the woman. Applejack rushed in, in tandem with Pinkie, her maces swinging around to slam into both sides of the creature’s skull, even as Pinkie’s axe slammed into its gut.

Her maces bounced, and the recoil stung her even through her gauntlets; a flash of blue told her the axe had struck true, but that barely seemed to matter as the creature swung round. Pinkie ducked the meaty arms by a hair’s breadth, but Applejack was not so lucky, the force of the blow smashing her to the ground and rattling her skull. The world went white, and for a while, all she knew was the roaring of the creature, the battle cries of her friends, and the cold of the snow on her face.

Her vision cleared, finally, and she tried to raise herself up – pain shot up her left arm when she tried to move it, nearly turning the world white again. She ground her teeth and shook her head, pushing herself up with her good arm to finally take a look around. It was hard; everything was spinning in front of her, wobbling to and fro, but she could make out the beast, stalking Rainbow, who had an arrow in her hand – an arrow? She must have lost her daggers. Pinkie was nowhe- no, there she was, pink fur against white snow. She wasn’t moving. Her heart skipped, but she shook her head again, and forced herself to her feet. Rainbow was in trouble. Where was her mace? At her foot.

She bent to pick it up, pitching both world and stomach every which way, and only barely managed to stagger back to her feet, left arm hanging limply at her side. She dared not move yet, not while her head was spinning; her breath caught as Rainbow ducked one swing, sidestepped another, each of them coming far too close. She had to help – she couldn’t help. Someone, someone had to help. Please, someone help.

The troll flinched, an arrow shaft sprouting from its arm. Applejack blinked in surprise; Rainbow stepped in, and jumped, her hand flashing down to drive the point of her arrow into one of the troll’s eyes. It staggered back, roaring in pain, and a third arrow sprouted from its neck, a fourth from its shoulder.

But it still wasn’t bleeding, and as a fifth arrow decorated its chest, it rushed forward, both arms swinging around to strike at Rainbow. The duelist scrambled back, but lost her footing; on her back, she could only roll as the troll’s fist came down, and could not dodge when it grabbed her leg with its other hand.

Applejack moved. The world pitched again, and she stumbled, but she kept her footing, recovering in time to strike. The blow went wild, glancing off the troll’s back; she stumbled backward in time to avoid the counterswing, backstepping more even as it moved toward her, dragging Rainbow with it. “Let her go!” she shouted, but it roared in answer, and swung at her face – again, she barely dodged. She couldn’t win this. Even with arrows peppering its hide, the troll wasn’t stopping; its flesh was too tough for her maces, and its wounds healed even as she fought it. There was nothing she could do. She was going to die. Her friends were going to die.

No. It drew its arm back, to smash her head in. She breathed in, the chill of the mountain air rushing through her. For a moment, all was still; the troll, fist clenched, beginning its swing, dirt-smeared white fur rippling in the wind, dark fluid marring its face, just below its ruined eye; Rainbow’s hair splayed against the dirt and snow, one leg held firmly in the troll’s grasp, the other sliding against the ground. The moment passed. The troll swung. And she yelled.

“Fus!” A thunderclap of sound and a wave of force met the troll head on, slamming its arm to the side and snapping its head backward. It yelped in pain and surprise, its other hand losing its grip on Rainbow, who flopped to the ground, unmoving. Applejack stepped forward into an overhand swing, mace slamming into the troll’s head. It stumbled back farther, and she circled as it recovered, both eyes tracking her.

It seemed wary now, hunching down and actually taking a step back; smarter than she’d thought. Would it run? Could she just drive it off? No; there was still rage in its snarl, and behind its eyes. It would kill her, given half the chance, and then her friends, if they weren’t already- No. She would not give it that chance. She breathed in again, and it rushed her. Again, she yelled. Again, the thunderclap of force sent it stumbling back, and again, she followed with a blow to its head. It took a further step back, but one foot away from the cliff’s edge. It was not going to fall.

She heard the buzz, felt the wind as the arrow shot over her head, to slam into the troll’s middle eye. It yelped in pain, and took another step back – a sudden flash of pink, and there was Pinkie, the haft of her axe at the troll’s ankles. She heaved, pitching it backwards; its hands grasped at nothing, it roared, in shock, or anger, or just pain, and was gone. A moment later, the roar cut off, and all was silent.

She stared, eyes drifting from where the troll had fell to Pinkie; the Khajiit’s face was a mess, fur matted and bloody, snout bubbling with each breath, and yet she was smiling, pointed teeth all smeared in red. It was … well, terrifying. Doubly so when she slumped forward, and fell to the ground. “Pinkie!” she cried, stumbling forward, mace dropping from her hand as she dropped to her knees beside her friend. Pinkie’s chest still moved, back rising and falling with every breath, and Applejack breathed a sigh of relief. She was bruised, battered, but it didn’t look like anything fatal. Not so long as they could get to shelter.

She got to her feet, and once again the world pitched back and forth, and her stomach rebelled. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself around, taking her steps slowly, careful not to slip on snow or stone, and made her way to her other friend. The Imperial was in bad shape: raw, dirty scrapes where her skin had dragged on the ground, ugly bruising already showing where the troll had gripped her leg, shredding her trews, and her face looked no better than Pinkie’s, though the troll had never touched it. But she, too, was breathing; shallow breaths, but visible. They were both alive. They were all alive. She couldn’t rest, though. She had to get them to safety. Get them help.

She got to her feet – or tried to. Her legs refused to obey, failing halfway, and she fell hard to her knees, jarring her injured arm. The pain turned the world to white; she felt the chill on her face, the rough grit of the dirt, and then she knew no more.

Something was touching her face. It felt cool, and smooth; a light touch at first, almost a caress, then a more insistent grip, forcing her jaw to open. Panic wound through her, and she tried to fight it off, but her arms would not move. The voice came then, calm and soothing, murmuring words she should know but could not place. Something touched at her lips, wetting them. She swallowed; her throat was almost painfully dry. Drinking would be good. Yes.

It was warm, going down, and spread through her, washing away the pain she was only just remembering she felt, soothing every ache and bruise. She sighed in relief, and opened her eyes; there was a cup at her lips, sturdy pottery. Attached to the cup was an arm, covered in scales. Yellow scales. Her eyes rose, following the line of the arm, to should, to face, and finally to eyes of piercing blue. They flicked to the side, the scaled face shifting as their owner looked away. Pink … pink petals? Pink something fluttered with the motion, and then a flash of teeth. But there was that voice again. Calm, but worried. Soothing. It was nice. She closed her eyes. Just rest a bit. Then talk.

Interlude - Moonlight Whispers

They were encamped for the night, their tents pitched, the fire built, the horses set to pasture, and the wagon locked. She tended the pot, reaching over occasionally to give the stew within a swirl, or taking a small taste. Mostly, though, her eyes were on the stars and the moons, words and notes and pictures tumbling through her mind, one after another, each taking its place in the moonlight, then moving on to make way for the next. There was one that was persistent, however.

Skyrim was cold.

She shivered, and turned, so that the warmth of the fire would reach her other side, as well, and took another taste of the stew. Ah. It was ready. Pursing her lips, she gave a short, sharp whistle, and the others came running.

Bowl in hand, she returned her attention to the moons, allowing the stew, which was delicious, to warm her from the inside. Beside her, Ma’randru-jo told his stories to Khayla, as he always did, and across the fire, Ri’saad and Atahbah shared both seat and bowl, as they always did.

Habit did not take her this night, however. On other nights, she would take out her lute, and play, and sing, and sometimes there would be dancing. Or she would tell a tale, of tragedy, of comedy, of drama, of adventure - and the others would listen, as they always did. But tonight, there was a whisper in her ear, a tingle in her tail, a twitching in her whiskers.

So she watched the moons. And then, for just a moment, they disappeared. A shadow had crossed them, swift as a thought and just as transient, but she had seen it. “Hmmmmm. Well, Pinkie,” she whispered, scratching at her chin, “it looks like interesting times ahead.”

Interlude - Sanctuary

Was this the place, then? This hole, hidden away in the midst of a forest teeming with creatures and spriggans? Not what he’d expected, not at all, but he supposed if the Brotherhood were what he expected, they’d have gone the way of the Morag Tong long ago. Yes, this had to be the place. There was a door, a very ostentatious one, black stone and carved with disturbing images. Well. Disturbing to the average person, perhaps. He approached.

The door spoke. “What is the music of life?” How interesting. He’d doubted her, when she’d said to answer the door itself – still he doubted, wondering if perhaps there were a man behind it. But no, it was most likely actually enchanted – that seemed appropriate to a group like the Brotherhood.

“Silence, my brother,” he said, his voice deep and raspy, like most of his race.

“Welcome home,” said the door, and swung open. He crossed the threshold, a small grin upon his face. Home, eh? Would the others here feel the same thrill that he did, in the hunt and the kill? They must … else why would they be here?

“Sanctuary,” he whispered, feeling the shape of the word upon his tongue. It did, indeed, taste like home.

Interlude - Arboreal Premonitions

“Oh, my, you poor thing. Come on now, let’s have a look at that paw.” The sabrecat yowled at her, tail lashing, but did not object to her hands on its paw. The Argonian inspected the wound with a careful intensity, cleaning it in a meticulous fashion. “Oh, did you cut yourself on a rock? You need to be more careful. Here, now, I’m going to put a bandage on it, and you need to leave it alone for a few days, okay.”

The enormous cat’s eyes met those of the girl, and then looked away moments later, the creature heaving a sigh. “Now, none of that. If you don’t leave it on, you could open it up even worse,” she said, her tone kind and motherly. Deft hands wrapped the paw in clean rags, and tied the bandage off at the top. “You can take it off in a couple of days. Now go on.”

The cat got to its feet, gave her a nuzzle, and slipped off into the forest, leaving her beaming with joy. She was a pretty thing, as Argonians went, her golden scales smooth and lustrous, the pattern of small, rounded horns upon her head adorned with what looked to be petals of a most glorious pink. Save for the bow on her back and the rough clothes she wore, she would have looked perfectly suited to noble’s court.

She looked to the sky, a wave of unease coming over her. There had been odd shapes in the skies of late, winged creatures that could not possibly be birds, and did not look like anything she knew of. Each time she saw those creatures, her heart began to race, and she felt the urge to flee, to run, to hide. Something was wrong these days. She just hoped that nothing tremendously bad would happen.