Chapter One: Hello There!

Lena Nirvana was a bit miffed. She had spent the last four months in this ever so strange land with no luck whatsoever in using her magic to return to Skyrim. Due to having the blood and soul of a Dragon, she wasn't exactly known for her patience. While she enjoyed the warmth of the area she was in, all her stuff was back in Skyrim, which was really the only reason she stayed in that ice box of a providence. That and her many friends, though if she ever returned home, she'd pack everything and everyone up and come back to this place.

Okay, so introductions were in order. Lena Nirvana was a twenty-one-year-old female of mixed race decent. Her mother was Liara Nirvana, a half High Elf, half Wood-Elf woman who had raised her daughter in the Summerset Isles until they had been driven out by the Thalmor. Lena's father had been a Nordic man named Bertrand; a large man with black hair who had been built like an ox, but had a heart of gold. The man had joined the Imperial Legion when Lena had been barely eight years old. He had died in the fighting that had ensued after Ulfric Stormcloak had killed High King Toryyg in an attempt to prove the Empire weak.

As a result of her mixed heritage, Lena looked like an exotic human rather than having the alien appearance of the elves. Her Bosmer and Altmer blood mixed to give her golden brown skin, making it seem as though she was a pale human who had spent a very long time in Elsweyr. Her eyes were a beautiful shade of golden green, upturned like a cat's rather than the overly large, walnut appearance that most of the elves possessed. Her midnight black hair was cut just below her shoulders, with a single braid on the left side of her head that fell to her chin. Due to her elven and human blood, she was built not like a mammoth the way the Nords were, nor like the twigs that the Elves were. Instead she was built like a jungle cat, lean and powerful, built for the perfect fusion of speed, agility and strength. Being a werewolf helped with her physical build. Plus…her ears weren't as pronounced, so as long as she kept her hair down, no one would realize she was an elf.

Her personality on the other hand wasn't like her mother or her father. Her mother, while a bit depressed from Bertrand's death, was elegant and kind-hearted. Her father had had the sternness and pride of a Nord. Lena, on the other hand, was a mischievous little shit, her eyes always dancing with laughter and mischief. Always looking to make people laugh through stupid pranks and terrible jokes. Her fighting style echoed her personality. Decked from head to toe in the terrifying Daedric Armor, she carried a Daedric Greatsword; all of which she had forged herself, and she had named her blade 'Stormfang', after she had enchanted the weapon with electricity; that she swung around with one hand as easily as an Orc swung a twig (or a Wood-Elf). She danced back and forth, using her Beast side to greatly enhance her strength as she moved like the wind, despite the heavy armor and weaponry. She also carried a Daedric Bow called 'Ember', since she had enchanted it with flame power.

As mention before, she was a werewolf, though her Dragons blood had made the wolf into one hell of a powerhouse. So that was a thing.

Anywho, she had purple warpaint over her left eye. A mark over her brow and two under her eye over her cheek bone. Her back had a dragon tattoo that she had gotten after she had discovered that she was Dovahkiin.

Now as to what happened to her. She had been exploring Redwater Den with her best friend and lover, Serana. The werewolf had told the Vampire about the weird blood spring that was in the ruins under the skooma den and Serana, ever the excitable teenager (despite being several millennia old,) had insisted they explore it, this time with Harkon's Bloodstone Chalice in hand. They had cut through the vampires that had taken up residence since the last time Lena had gone to through the place. The blood sucking idiots hadn't stood a chance against the Dragonborn and a master Necro- and Cryomancer who doubled as a Vampire Lord. So, they had entered the main room and had been about to see what would happen if they dunked the chalice into the blood-red water (Lena couldn't help herself, even with Serana telling her that it was a terrible idea. Not that the crazy woman listened) when Lena had spotted something she had never seen before. A smooth black stone with veins of crimson across the surface. The tribrid had picked the rock up, intending to sell the stone to Belethor in Whiterun, and had gone back to dunk the chalice in the water. Terrible idea. There had been a blast of thunder, a flash of silver light and then nothing.

Lena had woken up a while later. Though she was no longer underground with her lover next to her. She wasn't next to some crazy spring that gave Vampires a temporary boost in power. Nope, she was in the middle of freaking nowhere, in the middle of the night, feeling as though a giant had just sent her one of the two moons, her Daedric helm lying next to her head rather than on it. She had heard an odd purring noise and felt pressure on her armored chest and had looked down to see something that had knocked the breath out of her.

A baby dragon, unlike any she had seen before was lying on her chest, fast asleep, looking as though everything was right in the world. What had shocked the tribrid was that the dragonling didn't invoke the primal hunger that came with being Dovahkiin. Nope, instead she felt a sense of protectiveness that she hadn't experienced before. Okay, she was extremely protective of Serana, especially since her psychotic dad had wanted to kill her just to make Vampires the top dogs in the world. (hehe, dog puns). But that was the protectiveness one felt when those they love were in danger. With the dragon, she felt…the only way she could explain it was possibly the way her mother had looked at her after her father had left.

The dragon itself was, as she said, different from every other dragon she had seen (and killed) before. For one, it was a quadruped, not biped the way the dragons she fought on a daily basis were. Its scales were like black crystals, shimmering from the starlight overhead. The dragons she usually fought had scales that looked like stone, dull and stiff. The little dragon was the size of a small cat, with a long, serpentine neck that ended in an angular head with a set of ivory horns at the back of its skull. Tiny fangs poked out from the tops and bottoms of the dragon's lips, its forked, pink tongue poking out as well, nearly making Lena snort in amusement as she spotted it. A line of tiny spikes traveled down its back to the tip of its tail, the tail itself looking like a long, serrated whip.

She must've made a noise, because the little reptile had yawned and cracked open beautiful crimson eyes. The dragon's eyes looked like crimson jewels, with wide pupils that made it look so cute and innocent. The cuteness level only skyrocketed as the tiny reptile jumped up and poked her nose in Lena's face, purring loudly as she rubbed her head against Lena's nose. The half-elf had giggled and pulled the lizard away from her, taking care not to let the talons of her Daedric gauntlets tear the membrane of the dragon's wing. She had held up the dragon in front of her face, just high enough to see what gender it was. She didn't see a bulge down there so she assumed the dragon was female.

"Hello, little one." she had said with a smile. The dragon responded by licking her nose, causing the woman to squeal and hold the dragon away from her face as she sent a mock glare at the baby. Lena had nearly dropped the dragon when she felt the feeling of childish amusement brush against her brain. Her eyes turned to the dragon. "Was that you?" she asked her.

The dragon gurgled as another emotion, this time hunger, brushed against the surface of her mind. "Well crap."

And now here we are in the present day. The dragon, who Lena had named Ophelia after her best friend growing up, was now about twice the size Alduin had been the last time the Dragonborn had seen the big, black bastard. Ophelia's scales were stronger than ebony armor, her talons sharper than a dragon bone blade. Her wings, blacker than the midnight sky they were, were absolutely massive, stretching to damn near eighty feet wide. Lena was not afraid to admit that she wanted to fly with the dragon. Ophelia's fangs were each about a foot and a half long now, jutting from her jaws to give the dragon a terrifying visage, the fangs were now as sharp if not sharper than Stormfang's tip. The horns on the back of the dragon's head had grown much longer, now having a slight upward curve to the ivory spikes. The spikes going down the black dragon's back hadn't grown as much, though they could still severely injure anyone stupid enough to impale themselves on the bones. Lena noticed a reasonably sized space between the spikes on Ophelia's back, a perfect place to sit when flying.

Lena was rather surprised when Ophelia started to speak around three months old, not through her mouth as Lena was used to, but with her mind. That had caused the half-elf to choke on the ale she had picked up from the nearby village called Furnost. Her personality was almost opposite to Lena's. The dragon was a bit more serious than the mischievous tribrid, but did have her moments where she cracked a terrible joke that had Lena roaring in laughter like a drunken Nord. She was also less confrontational than Lena was. Lena had no issue whatsoever about getting into fights, as her many scars would tell you. Ophelia preferred to defuse the situation via a nice chat over some tea (don't ask how many tea leaves it took to make enough tea for a dragon of that size.) It was almost as though she was meant to balance the Dragonborn out. Though oddly, they hadn't met any problems at all from the locals. No one had spotted them nor attacked them out of the blue, so Ophelia hadn't been pushed to fight anyone. Yet.

On that note, the black dragon was aware of Lena's purpose in Nirn. From what the Arch mage had been able to figure out, some form of powerful magic had bound the two beings together, mind and soul merged together on a ridiculous level, though Lena couldn't remember how it happened. Ophelia had refused to speak to Lena for three weeks after she had seen one of the dragon slayer's nightmares about the dragon that had leveled Rorikstead. When she finally spoke, Lena explained that most Dragons of Nirn were bloodthirsty monsters obsessed with conquest, well except for Odahviing and Paarthurnax. The black dragon had accepted that, though she had made Lena promise not to kill any innocent dragons. Ever. Lena had agreed immediately, having already agreed to that with Paarthurnax when he left to make a dragon enclave. She was a warrior through and through, but she knew when to stay her blade.

Lena was more than aware she wasn't on Nirn anymore. If she was, Masser and Secunda would've been in the night sky, along with the Aurora Borealis that she had come to love about Skyrim. Instead, there was only a single white moon hanging in the void, along with there being a crap-ton more stars in the sky. Probably why this land was so much more comfortable than Skyrim or the Summerset Isles. However…something had affected Lena on another level entire. Her magic had been super-charged, making it so she could use high level Destruction spells for hours on end before she needed to stop. And then her Mana would recharge far faster than it should've. Not to mention that her magic was no longer normal. When she used her fire magic, the flames were black-red rather than golden red. Same went for her lightning. Her ice simply looked as though someone had mixed shadow and ice together. (A.N. - The way the ice looked in Rise of the Guardians during the short fight between Pitch and Jack)

After that revelation, she had decided to test her Dragon Shouts. Same thing. Her Unrelenting Force was easily a hundred times as powerful, blasting objects the size of her mansion in Solitude several hundred feet. She couldn't wait to test it out on some bandits or maybe these 'Urgals' she had heard so much about. Her Fire Breath was no longer just a plume of fire, it was now a massive jet of flame even more powerful than any the Dragonborn had ever seen before, the pillar of flame capable of burning through five feet of stone within three minutes or so. And so on, all her Shouts had become much stronger, though the draw back was that even with her amulet of Talos, it still took time for her soul to recover from her Shouts.

All that aside, Lena was worried about Serana. The crystal she had enchanted to track the vampire said that she was in this 'Alagaësia' as the country was called. What concerned the werewolf was that Serana usually drunk from the Dragonborn herself when she needed sustenance. Werewolves could simply eat normal food if they got hungry, Vampires didn't have that luxury, they needed blood to survive. Lena was worried what might've happened to her lover if she couldn't find a willing donor, as the vampire never took from the unwilling. On the bright side, she knew the general direction of her lover, thanks to the tracking crystal. According to some of the locals in the area, (and the map she had stolen from a rather drunk fellow in the local inn) Serana was in the area known as the Beor Mountains. So that was where she was heading.

Ophelia was rather excited to meet the vampire in person, having only seen the dark haired Night-Walker in Lena's memories. The black dragon had been bouncing in excitement as they walked through the Hadarac Desert.

We're going to find your lover? The dragon asked in her elegantly accented voice. (A.N.- Ophelia sounds like Kate Beckinsale, for those who are wondering)

"Yes, Ophelia. For the eighth time since we left Furnost, we are going to find Serana." The warrior woman grumbled as she walked under her dragon's wing. "Asking the same thing over and over won't make us find her faster."

The dragon gave the equivalent of a sheepish smile as she looked ahead. The sun was just starting to set, but until then, Lena would still be cooking in her armor. She hadn't had the common sense to purchase some breaches or tunics, so she was stuck in the black Daedric armor until she did. They had been walking for about five days now, flying a bit here and there before Ophelia would get tired from carrying a woman of her weight with that much heavy equipment on. So, they were walking as the sun went down.

As the two walked, they talked, reveling in each other's presence. Lena spoke about her mother, her friends in the guilds she had taken over, how she had met Serana on her first mission for the Dawnguard. Ophelia listened in an enraptured silence, asking questions here and there to get a better grasp of her partner's personality and history. She was like a giant scaly child. Lena loved it. By the sun had set and the cold had set in, they had stopped talking, simply enjoying each other the best they could. Frankly, Lena was surprised that she had accepted Ophelia into her life so easily. Odd protectiveness or not, she should've had a bit of an issue with raising a Dragon, considering what Akatosh had created her to do.

She was shaken from her thoughts as the voice of an angry male echoed over the desert sand. She looked to Ophelia and the dragon locked eyes with her. Without a word, both nodded and lowered into crouches, creeping across the sand toward the voice, the dragon slayer taking her bow from its hook on her back as she moved.

Peaking over the edge of a sand dune, Lena nearly dropped Ember as she spotted her target. Two males argued at the edge of the small camp, human from the look of them, a female on the ground, either asleep or injured, she couldn't tell from a distance. A pair of horses, one white, the other gray, stood just off from the camp. What caught her eye was the dragon. Like Ophelia, this dragon had crystalline scales and four legs and invoke a sense of protectiveness from the Dovahkiin. Unlike Ophelia, this dragon was a brilliant sapphire blue, the campfire causing a kaleidoscope of color to shimmer across the sand. The dragon was a bit smaller, but just as elegant as the black by her side. Leaner too, built for speed and agility, whilst Ophelia was built for speed, agility and power, much like Lena herself was. The dragon looked distinctly annoyed with the two humans as the shouted at each other.

"It took us five long days to get here! What do you want to do, kill the horses? They're exhausted as it is." The dark haired one shouted to the light brown-haired boy across from him

"But if we do nothing, she'll die! If it's too much for the horses, Saphira can fly ahead with Arya and me; at least we would get to the Varden in time. You could catch up with us in a few days." The brown headed boy replied in earnest.

So, the girl's injured? We should probably head down there to see what we could do. Besides, there's another dragon like you! Lena looked to Ophelia in earnest. The black dragon nodded as Lena stood, placing Ember on the hook of the quiver. As one, the half-elf and dragon started to descend the sand dune. They didn't get more than a few dozen feet when the boys started fighting. Lena gaped at them as they grappled, coming close to kicking the wounded female as they rolled around in the dirt. Her hand curled into fist and glowed ruby red as a rumble rolled from her throat, she and Ophelia picking up the pace to keep the idiots from hurting the already injured female.

Once they were within fifty feet, Lena lashed her hand out, a shockwave of red light blasting across the desert sand to wash over both idiots and the dragon. All three froze in an instant as she rushed forward, Ophelia moving from her side to sniff at the paralyzed blue dragon. Lena ignored the boys, who were grunting and groaning as they attempted to break free of the paralysis spell, to no avail. She pulled her helmet off to set it by the fire as she knelt next to the injured woman, Arya if she remembered correctly. She was very pretty, elegant features and long black hair that looked to fall past her shoulders to the middle of her back. After quickly checking to ensure that the woman wasn't injured from the males arguing, she stood and turned to the boys, both of whom couldn't have been more than eighteen.

They both stopped struggling as her fists came to rest on her hips and her golden-green eyes locked onto them.

"An injured woman in your party and you two are fighting like a pair of starving hounds over a scrap of meat. Shame on the both of you!" she snapped as she waved her hand and undid the paralysis. The males collapsed into a sorry pile of cursing and grumbling as they detangled themselves from each other. As they stood, she got a better look at both, though she noticed how 'Saphira' was sniffing Ophelia cautiously. The taller of the two had nearly black hair and gray eyes, his body built like an experienced swordsman, but tight as a whip, ready to leap at the first sign of trouble. The shorter of the two had light brown hair and brown, almost hazel eyes. He had the build of a hunter, lean and powerful rather than large and bulky the way Farkas was. He at least looked away from the armored woman as he realized what he and his…friend had been doing.

"Well?" she snapped, causing both of them to jump. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"

While she was angry at their recklessness, she wasn't as angry as she was fronting. To be honest, she was just screwing with them.

The shorter of the two answer. "Well…we got so caught up in our argument that we forgot about her…" he answered sheepishly, ducking his head as Lena narrowed her eyes at him. Her eyes flitted to the dark haired one, who met her eyes with a defiant look.

"Well, shame on both of you for forgetting the injured woman in your camp. Honestly, you're both lucky I don't slap you silly for that. Both of you nearly kicked her in the head at least three times before I stopped your idiotic fight," she hissed before turning back to the woman. "Now, I only overheard a small part of your conversation, but from what I did here, young Arya here is injured and you're heading to this 'Varden' to get her the help she requires to survive. Should I assume that she's been poisoned?"

She heard the boys gasp as she looked over the young woman's pale and clammy skin. Pulling off her right gauntlet, she pressed the back of her hand to Arya's forehead, nearly flinching at the unrelenting heat pouring off her brow.

"Yes, she was poisoned by the Skilna Bragh, a rare poison. The only cure is the Tunivor's Nectar, which is only found in two places: the Varden or in the forest of Du Weldenvarden with the elves. Du Weldenvarden is on the other side of Alagaësia, so we're heading to the Varden for help." The brown-haired boy replied quickly as Lena put her gauntlet back on with a nod.

"I have a few potions in my pack that might help slow the poison's progress, but since I've never even heard of the Skilna Bragh, I don't have anything to completely cure her."

She looked up to her dragon, who immediately abandoned her investigation of the blue dragon to trot over to the half-elf. Lena had made an enchanted pack that felt as though there was nothing in it, despite having her entire supply of Daedric arrows and her Daedric sword and shield, 'Frostmourne' and 'Blackwall' respectively, all her potions and filled Soul Gems stored within, and had attached it to the improvised saddle on Ophelia's back. Lena rose and looked through the bag as the boys stared at her, the taller boy reaching down to pick up her helm, which had him gasping as he lifted it up.

"Shade spawn!" he exclaimed as he turned the helm over in his hands. "What in the hell is this thing made of?!"

Both Dark-Hair and Brown-Hair looked to her as she rummaged through her pack. "Daedric metal. Heavy stuff, yes, but very effective for fighting… well, just about everything. Magic proof too, and that piece is enchanted to let me breath underwater." She explained nonchalantly as she pulled three Cure Poison vials out of the pack. "Do try to be careful with it. I'd rather not have to retrieve it because you went and dropped the thing down that hole at your feet." She smirked to herself as they both jumped back since there was indeed a large hole that most likely led to a water-filled cavern just in front of their feet.

"What is 'Daedric metal'?" asked the brown-haired boy curiously.

"Ebony ore with Daedra hearts in the forge with the ore." She said simply as she carefully lifted Arya's head and slowly poured the potion down her throat, stopping ever few seconds and rubbing her throat to stimulate the muscles, causing the girl to swallow even in her sleep. She nodded as she stood and approached the dark-haired boy. Without a word, he extended her helmet, which she took with a winning smile.

"Thanks. I'm Lena, by the way. Lean Nirvana." She motioned to Ophelia behind her, the dragon's head tilted like a curious cat. "That's Ophelia. Don't worry, she's a big softy."

The boys exchanged a glance before the shorter of the two stepped forward. "I'm Eragon. This is Murtagh," he motioned to the dark-haired boy beside him. "And that's Saphira," he pointed to the blue dragon across the fire.

Lena smiled wider and extended her hand. "Nice to meet you, Eragon."

Eragon blinked and took hold of her hand, at which point Lena shook his hand excitedly before releasing his hand and extending her hand to Murtagh, who repeated the handshake.

Turning to Saphira, she gave a stiff bow before speaking. "Drem Yol Lok, Biilokah"

The dragon blinked as a shudder ran through her sapphire body and her eyes flashed to the Dragonborn as she walked over to stand by Ophelia. "So, mind if we travel with you to the Varden?"

Eragon looked from Saphira to Lena with a dumbstruck look on his face. "Two things. Why do you want to and what did you say to Saphira?"

Lena grinned. "Where I'm from, that is how you greet a dragon, providing he's not trying to kill you. It means 'Peace Fire Sky', which pretty much means 'Peace, Dragon', since dragons are creatures of the sky and flame. 'Biilokah' is her name in Dovahzul or Dragon tongue. It means 'Blue Sky Hunter'. As for why I want to travel with you to the Varden, a friend of mine is apparently in the area of the Beor Mountains. If the Varden is there, they might know where she is."

Eragon's face was blank for several seconds before he responded…or rather screamed. "THERE ARE MORE DRAGONS WHERE YOU"RE FROM!?"

Lena winced and rubbed her ear, as he had been loud enough to nearly blow out her very sensitive eardrum. "Yes, but they aren't the same as the dragons here. All of them are male and most are obsessed with destruction and conquest. Neither of our dragons would fit in there. Not to mention they're all much stronger than either Saphira or Ophelia. Now, we should get some rest. I'll take first watch while you two nap. I'll wake you—"

Look! An unfamiliar voice shouted in her head. She assumed it was Saphira.

They all snapped their heads around to where Saphira was looking, Lena's eyes narrowing at the sight of distant warriors. There were five hundred at the very least, dust billowing from their heels as they marched. A standard-bearer rode before the column of warriors in a black chariot, holding aloft a crimson banner.

"It's the Empire," Eragon said tiredly. "They've found us." Lena looked at the two boys. They were running on fumes. She had a few potions that might help, along with some tonics that would get the horses back into the right form to run for their lives.

"Yes…but those are Urgals, not men." Murtagh said in a confused tone.

"How can you tell?" asked Eragon.

Murtagh pointed to the standard. "That flag bears the personal symbol of an Urgal Chieftain. He's a ruthless brute, given to violent fits and insanity."

Lena grinned as she slammed her helm onto her head. "Killing crazy people? I'm an expert at that."

Murtagh shook his head. "No. we must leave, now. Those Urgals may not have been sent here for us, but they'll have seen us by now and that chieftain isn't the sort to let two dragons get away from him, especially if he's heard about Gil'ead."

Lena shrugged. "Not sure what Gil'ead is, but if they manage to catch up, we'll just have to kill them. I've been wanting to test myself against an Urgal for a few months now, so I'm kinda hoping that they catch up to us."

She looked to her right to see Eragon and Murtagh staring at her. "What?"

Ophelia spoke up. Maybe we can reason with them? I'd rather not spill blood unless absolutely necessary.

Lena shook her head at the black dragon. "Sweetie, did you miss the whole 'Given to fits and insanity' thing? Folk like that need to be put down, for everyone's sakes."

Lena reached into the pack again and tossed a pair of green vials to the boys. "Drink those, it'll give you an eight-hour burst of energy. I got something for the horses as well, so let's get a move on."