((AN: Man, I haven't updated this thing in ages. :/ But, since I changed it to also include Skyrim drabbles, I figured I should finally submit one. x3 Again, the particular character in this is my own created OC I'm playing in the game now, plus my own take on one of the followers and a few ideas from the game itself, and how my Dovakiin would act toward it all.

Also, the extra characters aren't actually based on any specific quest...I made 'em up myself. :B

Hope you guys enjoy! ^^ And also, those of you who follow me for my Avatar stuff, I promise I'll have something new to put up soon, or at least I'll try. xP My writing muse is being fickle again.))

Skyrim: Why I Fight

There are times I must sit and wonder why the threads of destiny have to be so specific for most people.

Sure...everyone around me in the cities I visit that walk with all manner of facial expressions and calm gaits do not think much about their lives...other than the simple day-to-day errands of finding food, maintaining their homes and businesses...just living.

I have met a few people who've known differently. Up in the cold, dark mountains near Winterhold, there is a Dunmer woman named Aranea Lenith who tends to a shrine of Azura, a Daedric deity. Her entire life, her entire purpose, was to adhere to the visions sent to her by Azura...and whenever she does not follow me in battle at my request, she is always back on that lonely mountain, certain that fate has nothing else in store for her. No higher purpose than that of staying under the lifeless gaze of a statue of a deity that has long since abandoned her.

And then there is me, and this whole vast web of fate that I've been a part of ever since I stepped across the border of my ancestral homeland—my father's land—and accidentally landed myself in the back of a prison cart.

Really, looking back on it all...it's just hard to imagine wanting to live life as I see fit, when I've been thrust into the center of a battle that will determine the fate of the Empire. The fate of Skyrim.

Dragonborn, chosen one, for the fate of the world.

Am I really destined for nothing more than fighting?

What do I fight for? The land, my life, the lives of my people?

I am not a dark person by nature, not in the least...but these thoughts cannot help but cross into my head every time I take a moment to rest and let my mind wander.

It was a particularly cloudy day during my next bout of these thoughts, as I sat on a rock near the roadside in a deep green forest. I was fairly near a city, I believe, but I didn't yet look at the signpost that I'd stopped near. I had bitten halfway into a sweetroll, and then stopped to stare off into space, I suppose. I do not remember much else after that, not until I'd heard a concerned female voice addressing me.

"...What ails you, my Thane?"

I shook my head and glanced up toward my current follower and loyal housecarl, Lydia of Whiterun, who had been given to me as a guardian by the Jarl of the city after helping to save it from a dragon attack. She was wearing the Dwarven armor I'd found in my journeys and that I'd given her, strong and sturdy (though I made a mental note to stop by the blacksmith in town for some touching up on it), and looked ever the capable warrior as always. Her face was hard and dangerous, but her eyes were friendly as they were cast toward me in inquiry.

Though Lydia always insisted on calling me by my honorary title, to me she was a traveling companion, a friend, and had always been a good person to talk to. I doubt that I will ever become used to being addressed like nobility, or a hero fit for stories...I was always just a simple young woman of Nordic blood, yet with a fair love for magic and a knack for silence and the bow. A woman who simply happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. So very close to losing my head along with the Stormcloak prisoners, my neck on a block that smelled of fresh blood, an axe ready to come down...

Involuntarily, as I do now whenever I think back on that fateful day in Helgen, I raised my hand to rub the back of my neck. I brushed a fallen leaf out of my short brown-blonde ponytail in the process, as I had taken my helmet off for comfort at the time. "Nothing, Lydia," I hummed. "I am just losing myself in thought, as I tend to do."

"As you tend to do an awful lot," she agreed, still regarding me with a concern that I thought almost sisterly, though I know it was mostly out of duty. Her head turned as she bit into a haunch of venison. "Not that I can blame you, truly."

I smirked. "Well, don't envy me too much."

"Envy?" she scoffed. "Oh yes, how I would love to have your job, Dragonborn."

"Come now, it's glamorous," I continued to goad, the utmost sarcasm staining my voice. "There is nothing like being the one person in this whole existence that can permanently kill dragons, and thus be the only thing between existence and destruction, and all the while carefully planning how to be used in a power play between the Stormcloaks and the Empire."

"Do not forget being chosen as an assassination target," she added bluntly, "by the Dark Brotherhood."

"Oh Nine, do not remind me," I snarled, holding my forehead in my hand. "Those damned Thalmor. I still laugh when I think of that note I plucked out of the poor fool's pocket."

"I still laugh when I remember putting an arrow in the bastard's throat," Lydia huffed. "Kill the Dragonborn. Not on my watch, he won't."

I had to chuckle, and feel ever relieved for her presence. As my guardian, she took her duty seriously, and fought tooth and nail at my back many a time...often to the point of her own near-demise, which I in return often tried to prevent.

"No," I said at last, the mirth running out of me. "I know you would not want my duties." I sighed and let my gaze wander to the sky, wondering if I could spot one of the moons behind a sliver of an opening in the clouds. "I may only shoulder this burden alone."

Her dark eyes settled back onto me, serious. "You are not alone. I and many others would gladly march into the maw of the dragon Alduin alongside you; you know that."

"Yes. For me," I pointed out, my own hazel gaze dark with the shadow of my cobalt face paint. "But who fights for the world? For the people?"

"We all do. It is not just you, but your cause. It is for what you stand, that we too fight."

"My cause," I nodded once, remembering the words describing my duty from both the Blades, and by the Greybeards. Both agree only on one single thing. "To protect this world from being consumed in fire, as it were. Still...as I go along in fight after fight, dungeon after dungeon, kill after kill...I guess it bothers me sometimes, and I wish to forget that cause."

Lydia looked to speak, but after a pause, turned her head and said nothing. Observing my companion, I knew that it bothered her too, willing as she always was to fight and protect. In the case of all good warriors, deep down, there was little satisfaction, little cause, to be found in an endless career built with blood. At least I knew one person eventually bound for the eternal bliss of Sovngarde, the afterlife. Maybe more.

"There is still a fair chance that you will be able to live as normal a life as you wish," she mused after a long moment of silence and eating. "I have always believed that your fate is merely a guide. Your life is yours to do with as you will."

I nodded absently. Deep within my core, I knew that she was right. The only thing stopping me from living that life was my own sense of justice...of where order and chaos lay, and the decisions put upon me.

I reached into my pack right then, and my fingers clasped around a jewel. As I pulled it out, I admired its stark and shining features with an impassive face. The gemstone in the center, bluer than the high point of the day sky, seemed to draw me into its depths.

Lydia glanced over, her head tilted. "An Amulet of Mara? My Thane, is there someone I should know about?" she teased in a surprisingly childish manner, eliciting a short laugh from me.

"Not yet," I smirked back, still gazing at the simple-looking enchanted jewel that was used for courtship in Skyrim. "I had bought it on my second visit to Riften, when you were taking a break and watching the house back in Whiterun. I thought..." I felt my face soften. "I thought to have one, as a sign of hope that someday I may be able to wear it and find an admirer."

"You do not want to wear it?"

"Not until the brunt of this entire journey is taken care of," I sighed and placed it back into a safe pocket. "Knowing what I am, my husband would probably be targeted. It would be a risk as it is anyway, seeing as the only temple of Mara is in the damned-infested Riften, of all cities."

"I do not know about that; I think having a temple dedicated to the Divine most associated with love stands like a spot of hope in that city," she pointed out. "And besides, I never knew a Nord to let themselves be concerned with what might happen. It is our way to live hard, die young, and love for now."

"So I have seen," I shrugged and rolled my eyes, remembering the attitudes of some of the Nordic men we had met. "My father is a Nord, but my mother is of Breton ancestry. I imagine I inherited my mindset from her in regards to love; my parents have always had a deep bond. I would not wish to lose my husband either, whatever the circumstance." I shook my head. "Surely you wouldn't."

Lydia laughed. "I would not worry too much for the man I would choose."

I quirked my eyebrows; this, she'd never mentioned. "So there is someone I should know about then, my loyal subject?" I said with a grin tugging my lip.

Her face instantly crimsoned, but she kept her composure. "...No."

"You cannot lie to me," I laughed, "I have seen the way you eye the young men that frequent Jorrvaskr."

"The Companions?" she snorted. "They are beasts."

"You are much like them, still, so you would get along," I pointed out, enjoying the fact that I had brought out her embarrassed side. Lydia was more the warrior than I was...in ways, I was more timid. To see my stoic housecarl nearly stammering was a riot. "I certainly hope that you have not...invited anyone to the house while I was away."

She sent me a narrow-eyed glare. "You wish for me to put a dent in that Scaled armor?"

"Are you threatening me?"

Lydia blinked, apparently surprised by the stern tone my voice had taken. She immediately turned and sat up straight. "Apologies, my Thane."

I could not hold my angry look; I broke into a laughing fit. "Oh, lighten up. You are still more friend than vassal to me, Lydia."

The warrior shook her head slightly, disagreeing with that notion as she always has...but she still had a mirthful grin, and I knew that I had indeed reached that level of friendship...lately she had felt free to banter with me more with each passing day, which was somewhat unheard of between nobility and servant. "I am relieved at least to see you brought out of your more dire thoughts," she relayed.

"They will return," I hummed, resigned. "But moments like this make the duty more bearable. And adventuring is fun in aspects."

"You do snicker in a crazy fashion when your arrow takes down a Draugr in one hit," said Lydia.

I shuddered. "Well, I hate undead, you know that. But it is the fact that I walk through all of those ruins, discover the legacy of the land, living all of the tales I had been told as a child...and then, the thrill of coming upon a dragon's Word Wall, and feeling the knowledge awakening..." I flexed my hand, smiling slowly. "That makes it worthwhile."

She chuckled. "Therein lies the silver lining to your oh-so-dire fate."

"I suppose."

The rest of the meal, and thus the break in our journey, was spent in a more fulfilled kind of silence. But we did not have much time to gather our things before a high-pitched cry pierced the forest.

We stood instantly on our feet, eyes locked to the direction from whence it came. Lydia had already drawn her blade...my right hand was resting warily on my enchanted katana, Dragonbane. The source of the scream appeared quickly from being silhouetted in the trees, revealing a young girl, perhaps from the nearby town. She did not look to be much older than ten. Her skirts and shoes were in tatters, and her fair blonde hair was loose and slick with sweat; more than likely, she had been running for quite a way, and very fast.

"A child!" Lydia gasped, replacing her sword.

The girl collapsed in front of us onto her knees and panted for breath. "I...it...help...help, please...!" she choked out between gasps for air.

I knelt down and gathered her up gently, my hands on her shoulders. "Peace, child, peace...you are safe."

She swallowed and allowed herself to finally regain her composure before looking up at me with wide, deep blue eyes. "Are you adventurers? You have to be, you've got weapons and stuff; oh, please help me!" the girl rattled.

"Easy, easy..." I soothed. "Yes, we are traveling adventurers. Pray, calmly tell us what is happening. Are you hurt?"

"N-no," she stammered. "Just scratched up a little."

"Take some water, little one, and some potion," Lydia gently coaxed, handing her one of our light red bottles. "What is your name?"

She gulped down the liquid before answering. "My name is Jola..." her eyes widened as they met mine. "And please, will you help? Something...a dragon, it was a dragon, it flew over our camp...my daddy told me to run and find help...I heard a real loud roar and saw fire...I think..." she was now practically in tears. "I think it might have ate my dad and my cousins!"

"Dragon?" Lydia and I chorused, glancing toward each other in urgency.

"Yeah," Jola confirmed with a nod. "It was big and brown, and noisy, and flew in circles above the camp."

"Sounds like one, then," I said with conviction, already having decided on my next actions as I placed my horned Scaled helmet back on. "Will you take us to where you last saw this dragon?"

She nodded again with a relieved smile and turned, pointing. "Our camp's this way, near the river."

With only a moment to gather our things, we followed the girl back through the sparse trees and vegetation along the frozen ground. I had my bow ready, certain that I would have to bring the beast out of the sky; so did Lydia as she wordlessly followed along.

"I don't know if it's still there," the girl nervously admitted as we kept walking. "I'm scared of what the camp looks like now though."

She made sure we stayed rather close as we walked; not that I would have strayed far from a child that I could protect. Much to Lydia's chagrin in our earlier journeys, I liked to take the time in each new city to stop and play with the children. It helped me to retain my sanity, to return me to better, more peaceful times...memories of my own youth. And seeing those young faces, innocent to all of the crisis in the world around them, playing with wild abandon under every bright day...well, it reminded me what I really fought for.

It reminded me of the child in Helgen who was frozen solid, who could only watch as his father lay bleeding and dead, facing a monstrous black dragon while Stormcloak and Imperial alike called for him to run.

"Worry not," I smiled, bringing myself out of those memories. "Whatever happens, we will make sure that you end up somewhere safe. Do you have family somewhere, perhaps?"

She nodded tentatively. "My mother and my aunt should still be at our house in Morthal...my daddy and uncle took me and my cousins out to teach us camping and hunting."

"Good," Lydia said, echoing the relief we felt. "And as for the dragon, we can track it down...they fortunately tend not to stray too far from an area that they have sought to destroy."

Jola shuddered. "I'm glad I found some adventurers close by then, to help fight it. My dad and uncle are good fighters, but a dragon might be too strong for them."

"They often are, for most," I murmured, remembering how I felt with my first dragon battle. Exhilirated...but at the same time, terrified. As terrified as my first look into Alduin's blood-red eyes and yet determined enough to stand against one beast.

"Know what would be nice though...if we ran into the Dragonborn too."

I nearly stopped at her comment, my eyebrows raised. "You know of the Dragonborn, huh?"

Jola smiled. "I think everyone does. She's a legend. She killed a lot of dragons, and protected so many people from harm. They say she's going to save us all. I like to pretend I'm her, when I play, because she's so brave. She wouldn't have run, like I did." She glanced back up toward me with hopeful eyes. "Think we'll find her too?"

Amused, and very much flattered by this child's display of awe at my deeds, I shared a brief glance and a smile with Lydia and wondered whether or not I should reveal myself. The look she sent me back seemed to say to me, "this is your show."

I chuckled and turned back to the girl. "Well, we might. Wherever a dragon is rumored to have attacked, chances are, she'll be on her way. I certainly know."

Jola blinked up at me and tilted her head. "Oh, you know the Dragonborn?"

"Actually," I drew with an anticipating smile, "You could say that-"

Suddenly, a thundrous noise in the distance cut me off. We all stopped, frozen on the spot as we had walked out of the forest and into a large clearing.

The sound of the beast's familiar, deafening roar went through my blood like the ocean crashing into a rock. It called to something deep within me, like a challenge. Every time I heard that sound, I had to stop and run toward it, dropping whatever I was doing otherwise...and at the same time, the human part of me would be scared stiff, shouting to the back of my head. Run while you can, you fool!

No. Never.

I could see the charred remains of the camp near the water, with only one tent standing. I could smell the soot, and sense the very heat through the stark frozen air. I only hoped that there were still people left...at the very least, the father of the little girl now clinging to my leg in utter terror.

For there, flying above in a slow circle, was the dragon. Each roar sounded like thunder. Each wingbeat a lash against the wind.

Lydia immediately drew her bow and stepped forward, loosing an arrow to gain its attention. Its head turned against us on its next circle, and it loosed another angry roar that seemed to freeze my blood and boil it all at once.

And then I stepped up, my eyes facing his as he whizzed over us, murmuring "Yol" and turning its fire breath against us. We jumped out of the way, leading it away from the camp...yet I could hear the dragon turning again toward us, cursing me in its tongue. "Dovakiin!" it snarled.

I kept my bow on its form. "Lydia," I whispered harshly, "Stay back and keep her safe. I have this."

"Are you sure, my Thane?" she answered, gently taking a shivering Jola by the shoulders.

"Yes. He is just a common fire dragon," I assured, flashing a short grin to the both of them. "Pushover."

"Please be careful," the girl whimpered.

"Just wish me luck," I said. Without much pause, I rushed forward.

Now, to all the world, it was just myself and my quarry, the otherwise magnificent Dovah that had chosen to cut an innocent family down in the wake of its fury.

I loosed an arrow upward, and missed the edge of its wing by inches. Cursing, I waited until it circled again and spewed its breath toward me. Narrowly dodging, I loosed another, and this time it struck true into the breast.

I was vaguely aware of a couple of other men nearby coming to my aid, brandishing swords for the next time it landed and throwing blasts of fire into the air. But I kept running it through with as many arrows as I could, though its fiery attacks often became too much, and I had to keep calling upon my healing magic to battle the intense pain licking across my skin.

But finally...finally an arrow struck a weak spot into its neck, and he faltered. Blood gushing through several spots in his scales, crashing down in a blaze of ashy brown. The earth rumbled as he took a hard landing nearby, nearly knocking us all off our feet.

Still, even on the ground, the dragon was formidable. Heat blazed in its eyes as it turned and crawled, blasting fire in an arc toward us. It downed one of the men helping me, though I was quick enough this time for a magic barrier.

Our eyes locked, dragon and Dragonborn, but to him I was no more than an abomination to their blood. An ancient incarnation of their foes and fears, the true rulers of the Empire, who could use their Thu'um with very little training.

"This is for the child, and her family's lives," I snarled, and then took a deep breath. As I drew my sword, its maw snapped towards me...and I let loose.

"IISS...SLEN!"

As my voice echoed, the dragon's head snapped back, blasted with a furious wind of ice. Though it was not yet fully strong, the Frost Breath Shout was still enough to bring the fire-oriented creature into a short daze. As it was, I drew the Blades' sword Dragonbane and rushed it, electricity arcing along the silvery surface.

Its attempts at blindly snapping was met with parry after parry of blade to the maw. I was panting, aching, well past my body's level of stamina, yet I could feel nothing but the sword in my hand and the effects of the Shout, and the angry roars of the dragon as the sword's enchantment coursed across its body. Just a little longer...

As it rushed in for another snap, I leaped with a roar of my own and took to its head, stabbing wherever I could. The nose, the skull, the eye...

SHICK!

I tumbled from the dragon's head as it reared back, its death cry rattling the world around us. It fell next to me with a powerful CRUNCH, unmoving, its massive body settling.

And then, it started to dissolve. The scales and body of a flesh and blood creature disentegrated as if in fire, and I moved closer, knowing what was coming next.

Its essence, its body and soul, rose from its very bones and came toward me in a blast of light. I stood and breathed in, eyes closed, clutching the sword and taking in this familiar sensation...familiar, but still nothing short of mind-numbing. Its soul encased itself within me, and with it, the ability for me to someday use its power.

When the rush settled, I opened my eyes to view the dragon I slew...nothing more than a full skeleton, quiet and dead forevermore.

Only then was I aware of myself again. I released the breath I had been holding, and realized that I must have looked utterly blood-splattered and dirty. But that didn't matter as I met the eyes of the spectators. Two men, one holding his charred arm, were staring ahead at me with what I had come to know as disbelief. Lydia smiled with pride for her Thane as always, and Jola...

Jola was utterly dumbfounded. "You...you! The Dragonborn!"

I released a shaky chuckle. "So they tell me."

Astounded, the girl laughed and sprinted towards me, embracing me with profound happiness and relief. I laughed along, gently patting her back. Among all of the reactions I had gotten to my deeds, I had to admit that a child's was most heartening. I could only imagine what it was like to bring their stories and legends to truth...after of course, making sure that they were no longer in danger.

"Praise the Eight," the uninjured man stepped forward, speaking in that thick, rough Nordic accent. He bowed quickly to me, and I noticed that he too was covered in a minute amount of dragon's blood; at least, I hadn't really been alone in the fight. "My lady, you have my utmost thanks for dispatching this beast. And for keeping my daughter safe."

"I was glad that she found me, really," I replied with a polite nod of my own as she released me to become enveloped in her father's arms. I looked over the two of them. "Is everyone else safe as well?"

The man's face fell. "Two of my nephews were...were taken, after the initial attack. Their brother and sister should be safe in that tent," he pointed. "And my brother..."

I followed his slow gaze to the crestfallen Nord, who seemed to be doubled over more in pain of heartbreak at the loss of two children than the pain of a fierce burn of dragon fire. "My brother will need a lot of time to heal."

I clenched my teeth and hung my head. The victory of a fight was always heartening, yes, but in my days of adventuring I had also discovered that there was hardly a worse feeling than being there too late for someone.

Why do children have to ever be caught in this?

"I am truly sorry," I murmured, catching the father's eye again. "Is there something more we can do? Provide a brief memorial, perhaps?"

He nodded, gulping to prevent a sob from reaching his throat. "It would be an honor for us to have your aid and blessing, Dragonborn."

"It is only my honor to be able to help," I answered, just as sincerely, and turned back to Lydia. "Let us help clean up here, then."

She nodded. "I'm right behind you."

And so that is how we ended another day of our journey, helping a broken and injured family honor their dead and escort them to the safety of a nearby inn. Still my heart was just as heavy with their melancholy, but moreover, I knew from their hardy demeanors that they would pull through and live as best they could with the rest of their children, and their families.

Jola kept smiling as she regarded me, every so often asking questions about my adventures and whether or not some rumors of my deeds were true. And as I sat around a warm hearth with the family I helped, filling up with food and anticipating a good night's rest, I reminded myself of a few things that I had forgotten in my thoughts from earlier.

This is what I fight for. The simple people, families and children who would not be able to find their own destinies in this world if Alduin were to have his way.

So help me, he will not.