The Dragonborn Chronicles
The Dragonborn Chronicles - (Prequel to Enduring Patience)
Summary: Annabel meets a mysterious dark elf with amazing healing abilities and ends up making a deal that her prideful dragon blood just couldn’t resist. This is part one of two. [=
Characters: my FDB Annabel Lee, Erandur, Karita and Thoring.
Quests Referenced: ‘Waking Nightmare’.
Exhausted – and freezing! - our dragonborn finally stumbled across the threshold of Dawnstar. Being born a Breton, she was built very short and so the trudge through all the deep snow all the way from Winterhold had taken its toll. Her wearied muscles, joints and bones protested with every single step she took.
But, she’d finally made it! Annabel had overcome giant ice wolves, serrating ice wraiths and a particularly nasty frost troll during the trek, and had survived mostly unscathed. Her desire for the heat of battle had been satiated for the time being, and now all she yearned for was a hot meal followed by a warm bed to crash into afterward. Skyrim was such a beautiful place, filled with so many untold wonders, but was also so damn cold!
As Annabel hurried along towards the village’s inn, she noticed a slightly-gaunt, dark-haired man in red robes conversing –or arguing- with a Nord woman in hooded robes. She appeared to be giving him some sort of warning, which he seemed to be not too keen on heeding. Then, he started babbling something about a mystic dawn..mythic dawn? Whatever the case, she was way too tired to bother with investigating right now.
Stepping around the worried Nord and her Imperial escort, she willed her aching legs and feet onward towards Windpeak Inn. Her grimace of pain melted into a smile as the warmth of the haven enveloped her. Thank the gods! The place was minimally filled and there were fine smells wafting through the air, of roasting beef and onion, sweet pies and the comforting aroma of the roaring fire-pit.
Annabel’s stomach growled loudly in anticipation and she laid a bruised hand against it as she made her way to the counter. There was a very beautiful, blonde Nord woman standing to her left who regarded her with a courteous smile and nod as she passed by.
Annabel smiled back before turning her attention, taking in the rest of her surroundings and subconsciously gauging any potential threats around her. To her right, she noticed a Dunmer in priests’ robes that had a somewhat… disheveled look about him, like he was very worried about something in particular, or had a lot on his mind. His blood-red eyes pierced hers, and for a moment she could not look away. His mouth was pressed into a thin line and he did not say a word…but still, he definitely just seemed so…haunted.
“Hello there!” the barkeep exclaimed, and she finally broke eye contact with the dark elf. Her stomach viciously grumbled again and her hand tensed against it, but even that small action caused a lot of pain for her sore muscles and she couldn’t help wincing.
She quickly ordered her food and paid for a room for the night, requesting for her meal to be delivered. The barkeep, Thoring, was a friendly, young Nord man that didn’t seem to mind obliging her, and she thanked him for his kindness. She was starving, but still kind of happy that it’d take a minute so she could also have a few moments to catch her breath, to change out of her heavy armor and be able to just unwind a bit. Being the savior of Nirn was a very demanding endeavor, not for the faint of heart.
Annabel, smiling again, turned and headed towards her room. She was faced again with the barmaiden, Karita, and briefly paused to admire the tall beauty. She had lovely, strong facial features, bright blue eyes and even a few freckles splattered across her small nose. The short dress she wore, which was rather revealing, clung to her curvy body exquisitely. Naturally, the nord was a whole head taller than she, but that didn’t intimidate the drogonborn the least bit.
As she passed by her again she silently wished that Karita would be the one to deliver her supper to her room, and she also idly wondered if she was a worshipper of one of her personal favorite Aedras, the goddess of beauty and passion herself, Lady Dibella.
Soon as she entered her room she closed the heavy wooden door behind her and crashed into the bed like dead weight. She lay on her left side so as not to cause any more pain to her injured body. It was a wonder that damned frost troll hadn’t swiped her head clear off her damn shoulders! It had certainly knocked the hell out of her, though, before she was able to finally deliver the killing blow. Annabel closed her eyes and concentrated on leveling out her breathing, trying to slow down her escalated heart rate. It still pounded vigorously within her chest from the leftover adrenaline rush of the battle. She could even hear it in her ears.
She couldn’t hear the sounds of the tavern beyond the closed door so she focused on the silence; basked in it, really, and in the overall safety of her current environment. After another moment of disconnection, she snapped out of it, sat up and then reached into her bag for a potent healing potion. The taste was neutral, familiar, and she expertly gulped it down in one swig. It eased the throbbing pain of her wound, but a dull ache still remained. It was more tolerable, at least.
Annabel began to slowly remove the outer cuirass of her Ebony Mail, which had actually taken the majority of the impact and would need to be repaired, along with her mages’ hood, so that she could inspect the injury more closely. A large cut, nearly 5 or 6 inches in length, ran from the tip of her right shoulder down towards her breast bone. There were smaller cuts adjacent to the main one, but they weren’t nearly as severe. The wound inflicted from the frost troll’s long, disgusting claws was not a pretty site. She could still see just a bit of tissue in the crevice despite having downed another healing potion, her last healing potion until she was able to craft some more. Unfortunately, she currently lacked the proper ingredients needed for such a brew.
But at least the potion had managed to get the majority of the bleeding stopped. Otherwise she might’ve still been out there in the cold, stumbling along the stony shoreline, bleeding to death and delirious, and falling into that lonely lovers’ nest to freeze to death… Annabel shuddered at the thought. Thinking about dying alone like that, shedding crimson upon those red mountain flowers that represented such lovely passion until she was no more made her feel so…desolate.
It was a very unwelcome feeling.
She carefully removed her warm but tattered undershirt and chucked it to the far corner of the room, leaving her in her bindings; no amount of repairing would be able to save it. Biting down on her lip, she contemplated whether to stitch up her wound herself, or seek the assistance of a healer. Frost trolls were filthy, rancid creatures and so she was greatly concerned about the high risk of infection.
Tsking softly to herself, Annabel grabbed an aged but clean piece of cloth from her pack and held it against the gash. Soft knocking rapped against the door and she absent-mindedly muttered for whomever it was to enter. The door opened, but she didn’t glance up yet. “Just sit the food here on the table, please.”
“That’s a nasty wound you’ve got there, Sera,” came a deep-timbered voice in response that definitely wasn’t as female as she’d originally hoped for. She looked up to find the dunmer in priest’s robes standing before her, holding her garlic and onion scented meal. He did ask she requested, placing the tray upon the small table beside her bed. He picked up the bottle of Black-Briar Reserve, pulled the cork and then held it out to her. “On the house.”
Annabel laid the now-soiled cloth aside and excepted the exquisite and expensive mead; the good, strong stuff. “Thank you.” She took a few long swigs, savoring the moderately spicy blend.
“Of course.” The dunmer responded as he regarded her wound inquisitively. “If I may have your permission, I can assist you with your injuries by performing a healing spell.”
She paused with the mead bottle raised half-way to her lips. “A healer? How fortunate! Yes, please proceed, Priest; I can pay whatever you require.” Annabel set the wine aside and held her arms out, allowing him access to the wound.
He knelt beside her, gently grasping her forearm just below the elbow with one hand while holding his other over the gash. A faint, amber-colored light emanated from his palm as his gray hand hovered close to her ripped flesh. The lacer-ations itched as his powerful magic caused her flesh to knit itself back together, but she knew better than to try and scratch at it, instead turning her attention upwards to count the knots in the wooded ceiling to distract herself. She started to feel kind of… weightless, and warm, and the light chiming sounds tickled her ears.
“I’m afraid this one will scar, Sera,” he murmured, and for some reason his voice sounded much farther away from her than she knew he currently was. The continued exposure to his magicka was stirring a slight euphoric sensation within her and she closed her eyes, basking in it. He said something else, but she didn’t even hear him. All of the pain, along with that damned itch, had diminished and Annabel felt a wide, pleased smile spread across her lips.
The warmth of his spell stopped suddenly, and she opened her eyes to look at him as he stood back up. “Hm?”
He smiled at her; a curt smile, but a smile, nonetheless. “I said do you have any more bandaging handy? I’ve healed your injury to the best of my abilities, but it’ll still need to be covered, at least for a day or so.”
“Oh, oh yes,” she replied, only slightly flustered, and her prideful nature hoped he hadn’t noticed. She retrieved more bandage wraps from her pack and handed them over. The dunmer expertly dressed the now-thin, reddened line that had been a jagged slash just a few moments ago.
Annabel tightened and flexed her shoulder, testing the muscles. It barely even hurt when she stretched both arms up above her head. “Thank you so much!” she smiled up at him before turning to retrieve her coin purse. “I’ll gladly compensate you for your services. How much coin-“
“I do not want coin, Sera,” he stated. “Instead, if I may, I’d like to ask a favor of you.” His voice was deadpan, completely serious, as that desolate, pleading look crept back into his crimson eyes.
“Of course, friend, ask away,” Annabel replied, taking another long swig from the mead bottle before sliding over on the bed towards her food. She picked up a large piece of roast and began devouring it; the meat so tender she was practically able to inhale it.
Erandur sat down in the wooden chair across from her, pressing his fingertips together and gazing steadily at her. “The people of Dawnstar are in grave danger,” he began. “On the clifftop overlooking this village is a ruin known as Nightcaller Temple where lies a very powerful and wicked evil that must be destroyed once and for all...”
Annabel slowly ate her dinner while he explained how all the inhabitants of Dawnstar had been having terrible nightmares, every single night, and the cause of it all was an evil presence by the name of Vaermina, the daedric prince of dreams, nightmares and evil omens.
“Whoa,” she responded, sitting her plate aside. “Ok, how can I help?”
“This evil lies deep within the temple’s inner sanctum, and I’m unsure if I can make it there on my own. You seem like a very capable warrior so, please, will you help me reach her malevolent influence?”
“I will,” Annabel replied, feeling her heartbeat speed up in excitement at the thought of another adventure, plus the bonus of helping people in need.
This time his smile was genuine, and she really liked it; his eyes were nice and warm, inviting, like a roaring fire during a frigid night. “Thank you so much, Sera! I promise I’ll do my best to see that you don’t come to any serious harm.”
She laughed on the inside but only smiled widely on the outside. This dark elf had no idea who he was currently in the company of. Some lowlife daedra was no match for the dragonborn! “You’re welcome. So, may I have your name, healer?”
“Forgive me! It’s Erandur. I am a devoted priest of Lady Mara.”
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Erandur.” She stifled a yawn. “I’m Annabel Lee, but you can just call me Anna.”
“Sleep as well as possible, Anna,” he replied, picking up her dirty plate. “I’ll explain the details to you in the morning.”
“Ok, thanks, Erandur.” Annabel settled down more comfortably on the bed and pulled the furs over her. See you in the morning, then.”
He didn’t say anything in response, only gave her a small, grateful nod before turning and exiting her room, softly shutting the door behind him.
It didn’t take very long for Annabel to fall into a fretful, difficult sleep. To be more accurate, she fell into a nightmare…
The sky was red, dark red. So dark, it looked like it’d been stained with blood. There were still stars up there, but for some reason both Masser and Secunda were nowhere to be seen, which made things a lot darker, but also made the billions of stars stand out against the crimson shade of the sky. And she stumbled around in this near-darkness feeling almost as blinded as a Falmer, unsure of where she was headed but knowing that she had to keep moving; could never stop moving, not even for a second.
If she did, the World-Eater would surely snag her!
Of course Alduin was here. As if a ghost, he always haunted her. Not only did the brute invade her thoughts on a daily basis, but now it seemed that even the sanctity of her very dreams was no longer safe.
I WILL SWALLOW YOU UP WHOLE, LITTLE DOVAHKIIN, he teased. YOU WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO ESCAPE ME!!
She didn’t turn to look for him, didn’t dare seek him out, just kept onward. Not that she was afraid of him, her instincts just told her to stay on her toes. In the distance she could make out the shape of…another person, and once she got just a bit closer she discovered it to be Erandur! The sight of him instantly gave her hope; maybe he would help her!
After she finally reached her companion, however, his body quickly morphed into Alduin’s and she found herself face to face with the firstborn of Akatosh. In one swift motion he leaned down and swallowed her up whole. There was no pain, just overwhelming and all-consuming darkness.
When Annabel started awake, for a few disorienting seconds she couldn’t remember where she was and had trouble distinguishing her dream-world from the real world.
“Thank the gods,” she sighed, willing her pounding heart to steady and her breathing to even out. Her body was damp from sweating under the thick furs and it made her shiver in the cold room. What a dream…
She chalked it up to being very stressed and over-worked lately – well, pretty much ever since she’d found out about being the dragonborn. Of legend. Her life had definitely gotten a lot busier after that.
There was no window in this small room so she had no way of knowing what time it was. Sitting up straighter in bed, she stretched her arms and shoulders out first, then her legs. She went to get up out of bed but then immediately jumped back up under the furs after her bare foot touched the floor – It was freezing!
Annabel retrieved her bag from the floor and put on a pair of warm socks, then her comfy shrouded boots before getting up. It felt really good to stretch out her hips and legs. She also slid on her Jesters’ clothes and an enchanted hat that gave her an extra edge to her archery skills. After slinging her bag onto her back she opened the door and exited the room.
The barkeep from last night was working on getting another fire started. No wonder it was so damn cold in here!
“Good morning,” he said to her, smiling widely. He was just a bit too chipper for her liking this soon after waking up.
“Morning,” she replied, stopping beside him. “Do you happen to have the time?”
“It’s a quarter ‘til nine, lass.” Thoring began walking back toward the counter after he was through, and she followed, stopping on the correct side of the partition and waiting for him to walk around. “Now, would you care for some breakfast? It should all be ready soon.”
“Sure!” Annabel grinned. “What’s on the menu?”
“Pine Thrush Egg Omelets with bacon and cheese, along with fresh oat bread and a snowberry and jazbay grape fruit salad.”
“Oh, my; that all sounds wonderful!” she admonished, reaching into her pocket for her coin purse to pay for her meal.
The barkeeper held up a hand while gently shaking his head. “No, lass, keep your coin. Your meal will be on the house.”
Annabel, surprised, gave him a suspicious eye. “Oh, well, how very kind of you. I really appreciate it!”
“Erandur told me that you agreed to help him rid us of this accursed affliction that’s been plaguing our small settlement for some time now.” Thoring’s eyes were as wearied as someone’s who hadn’t slept properly in a long time, but I could still see hope shining through. There were small bags underneath them, even though the fellow didn’t appear to be that old.
She nodded, studying his face. “That’s right. I had a very nasty wound when I stumbled in last night.” She pulled her shirt over and down some so that he could see the pink, jagged scar that now marred her tanned skin. “He used his magicka to heal me all up and in return I agreed to accompany him to this desecrated temple.”
He looked so relieved he just might start crying. “Thank you! Thank you so much for your help!”
“It’s no problem,” Annabel replied modestly, even though the dragon blood surging through her veins soared with the praise. She gave him a comforting smile. “I’m pretty damn tough, I’ll journey through there with Erandur and take out any evil creatures that lay within.”
“Defeat this daedric scum and you can have free meals here anytime you want, lass!” he exclaimed. “I promise!”
“That’s so generous of you!” Annabel grinned widely. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we vanquish this Vaermina and both make it back in one piece!”
“Thank you for your concerns, but I believe it’ll be me that will need to protect you,” came a voice from behind her. She turned to find Erandur standing there, small leather knapsack slung across his shoulders.
Annabel gave him a sly grin. “We’ll both be protecting each other. How’s that sound, healer?”
He nodded once. “Perfectly fine with me, Anna. But I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure no harm befalls you.”
She didn’t know exactly why, but found that she really liked the way her name sounded when he said it. She cocked her head at him in thought. It was probably his exotic accent, or maybe just the kind way that he said it; or possibly even a combination of the two.
Either way, now was not the time to dwell on such matters, not when there were lives at stake.
“Thank you, Erandur. And I’ll do the very same for you.”
“Excellent,” the barkeep exclaimed. “I have the utmost faith in the two of you, and I know you will triumph!”
“Breakfast is ready,” Karita called out as she walked up the stairs, gaining our attention. She has one giant platter in her hands and quickly sat it down on the nearest table. “Help yourselves!”
“Oooo, thank you! It smells delicious!” Annabel told her.
“Why thank you for your kind words,’ Karita responded with a warm smile. “Would you also care to try some of my freshly-squeezed apple or orange juice?”
“Apple, please,” Annabel told her before sitting down and beginning to stack a portion of everything onto her plate. Erandur sat down beside her, choosing the latter.
“Ok, I’ll be right back,” the barmaiden told them. “Please, enjoy your meal!”
Annabel grinned graciously at Karita as she walked away, then turned to Erandur: “She’s so sweet,” she comment-ed. “And gorgeous!”
“Indeed,” Erandur replied, glancing at Annabel curiously. He’d dedicated his life to Lady Mara a long time ago, but was still just a man, one that’d made so many damn mistakes. He couldn’t help wondering if his current companion preferred the intimate affections of other women rather than men or mer. It was absolutely none of his business, he knew that, but the mental images of her with the tall barmaiden still penetrated his mind.
And the fact that it turned him on made him feel horrible.
Quickly he shoved these feelings aside before beginning to shove his breakfast into his mouth. It was actually quite tasty, some of the best he’d ever had. Free meals here would be a blessing, indeed. Of course, Thoring and Karita had extended the same reward to him, as well. They were truly kind people.
“Sooo,” Annabel said to him in a much lower voice, “do you happen to know if she’s taken?”
His eyes widened as he swallowed down a bite of the berry salad and nodded, then told her: “Karita is Thoring’s wife.”
“Damnit,” she grumbled, more to herself than him, before continuing her meal.
Karita then returned with their beverages, placing the tankards down on the table in front of them.
The way Annabel gazed and smiled at the nord aroused him and he found it quite surprising.
“Anything else I can do for you, friends,” Karita said, beaming at both of them and obviously eager to serve or help in any way.
Annabel quickly glanced at me for confirmation before replying: “No, dear, we’re fine.” She sat down her fork to dig into her pocket, where she retrieved a small satchel of gold and handed it to Karita. “This is for you, a thank you for all of your hard work and excellent service.”
The other woman smiled graciously at her. “Thank you so much, m’lady! Such a generous heart you have!”
“Well, you’ve certainly earned it,” she replied, taking a good pull from her tankard. The juice was almost too sweet for her. Karita gave her one final gracious nod before wandering off to assist a few other patrons who were coming out of their rooms.
Erandur gave Annabel a look but didn’t say anything, only smiled at her and almost, she could swear that he almost chuckled! The two of them then continued eating in a comfortable silence until both of their plates were empty. Karita came round again to refill their cups and ask if they wanted seconds, to which they both politely declined before she moved the platter onto another table.
He wiped around his mouth with a piece of cloth before standing up from the table and then addressing her in a calm voice: “Well, Anna, are you prepared to now go face this treacherous task ahead?”
She didn’t even need to think about it. “I am. And I’ll follow your lead. For now.”
Her voice held a slightly playful tone that he found quite alluring, and he really liked the way her bright blue eyes lit up whenever she smiled at him. It seemed so genuine. Real happiness. Contentedness, something he’d been chasing after for years now. The sins of his past were many, and still haunted him in every moment, but especially in his dreams. He prayed to Lady Mara to keep them in her protective hands, and that defeating Vaermina and destroying the very source of her wicked influence over this plane would help ease his overwhelming guilt.
“You alright, healer?” Annabel stood beside him, testing the weight of her pack on her recovering shoulder.
“Fine, Sera,” he replied, instantly trying to mask the emotions that he knew were showing through his tired features. “Here, let me.” He took her bag and draped it across his shoulders.
“Thanks,” she told him. “Just let me change and I’ll be ready, ok?” Since her Ebony Mail was still damaged she opted for her Nightingale armor. The only weapon she equipped was her handy dandy little daedric dagger that stole life from her enemies with every strike. “Ready.”
“Alright. Let’s go.”
Together they exited the small inn and trudged up the bluff, towards the looming, decrepit Nightcaller Temple. Annabel didn’t know exactly what she was getting herself into or what to expect, but like promised she followed her companion’s lead. She felt pumped and ready for a good, bloody battle. The dragonblood inside of her would expect no less, after all.