Not Alone (A Skyrim Fanfiction)

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

     Around midnight Odahviing landed in the center of the Stormcloak camp with a thump that rocked the ground and caused a myriad of shouts and screams.  I dashed out of the command tent and was almost bowled over by two panicking soldiers.  “He’s a friend!” I shouted over the din.  “Hold your fire!”  Odahviing merely swished his tail.

     “Hold your fire!” I shouted again, just to make sure everyone had heard me.  The soldiers finally quieted down, although many had bows already drawn and the rest had hands on their sword hilts. 

     I don’t know what I had expected, but I had somehow thought that Odahviing would be a little more discreet than this.  Maybe circled overhead and roared until he had my attention, not just landed in the center of a hostile camp.  It was too late for anything else now, though, so I cut to the point and asked, “What did you find?”

     The torchlight glinted off the dragon’s scales as he shifted his weight.  “The Dragon Killer is indeed in Helgen, Dovahkiin.  Many souls in one body emit a beacon like the burning sun.”

     The ranks of soldiers exchanged glances, muttering quietly to each other, confused looks on most faces.

     “Quiet,” I ordered in annoyance, half toward them and half toward Odahviing.  Dragons apparently didn’t know the meaning of private conversations or confidential information.

     “There is more, Dovahkiin.  I have flown far and wide, high and low, and yet never have I smelled as many different dragons in one place as I scented over Helgen.  I saw none of my brethren, yet they are there, out of sight.  I estimate their numbers to be greater than ten.”  Contrary to the dragon’s last statement, this one merely brought stunned silence.

     “Ten dragons?” I voiced in disbelief.  “Where by all the gods did he find ten dragons?”

     “I do not know, Dovahkiin, but you are sorely outmatched,” Odahviing pointed out unhelpfully.

     I bit back a sarcastic reply.  “Thank you,” I said instead.

     “You are going to lose this fight, Dovahkiin,” the dragon pointed out. 

     There were ominous mutters in the ranks.  “Quiet,” I ordered again, but with no real authority behind the order.  It was true.  Why not go ahead and admit defeat?  Unless we received reinforcements soon we were going to lose Whiterun, and if the Imperials took the city and destroyed a good part of our army in the battle we had no chance.  “Do you have any suggestions?” I asked Odahviing rather tartly.

     “Allow my brethren and me to fight with you.”

     Odahviing was just full of surprises tonight.  “And why would you want to do that?” I asked, my voice full of suspicion. 

     “Those of us who lived in the First Era remember Miraak and his thirst for power.  If the Dragon Killer defeats your Stormcloaks, he will seek to enslave the dragon race.  I and others will not allow this to happen.”

     I hesitated.  My list of allies had grown exceptionally thin, and how could we fight dragons except with dragons?  I looked around me and saw varying degrees of fear, confusion, and realization.  Well, if I had wanted to keep a low profile as the Dragonborn that hope was just shot to Oblivion with a Daedric arrow.

     “Very well Odahviing.”  I raised my voice so that all surrounding us could hear.  “Welcome to the Stormcloak army.”

     He raised his head high into the air.  “I shall go in search of other dragons who will understand the need for them to fight.  We will defeat our enslaved brethren and rid this world of the Dragon Killer.”  He raised his wings and took off with an earthshattering roar.