It had been nearly four years since Fjorkvar Dark-Heart battled the World-Eater Alduin in the land of the honoured Nordic dead - Sovngarde. His life had taken a mediocre turn, once the leader of every guild in Skyrim, he had put down his sword and placed his armour upon the various mannequins around his home as a reminder of his past accomplishments. Now he spent his days farming, caring for his wife Ysolda and their two children or drinking in The Sleeping Giant Inn reminiscing about his travels. On very rare occasions he would climb the 7,000 steps to High Hrothgar and spend hours in conversation with Paarthurnax. The land of Skyrim, still hurting from the Civil War was continually being raided by the Thalmor, day in and day out hunting the Talos worshipers. Fjorkvar felt increasingly guilty as the weeks passed for his part in murdering Ulfric Stormcloak for an Emperor that he would also kill. While he never kept up to date with current events he knew that the Thalmor had control of Tamriel and they used this influence to embarrass the civilians of every other race any chance they got. But within himself he understood that he could march through hundreds, maybe even thousands of Thalmor agents in the end he would put his family in danger and the Empire just wasn't worth that risk.

It was Morndas, the 17th of Last Seed, 4E205, the fourth year anniversary of the day Fjorkvar first came face to face with Alduin. Not a day he celebrated but a day he would always drink a little more on, a day where he would see all those faces of the people in Helgen who were unprepared for a dragon attack, a day that ate at him every moment of his existence. Fjorkvar stood atop of his tower in the manor he had built near Riverwood after dinner with his family; he would look out into the distance, spending hours pondering whether all those years ago he should have travelled into Bleak Falls Barrow, maybe he should have gone back to Cyriodiil when he had the chance. His pondering this year however was cut short by the voice of his Housecarl Rayya.

"My Thane, the flowers have arrived. Would you like me to accompany you on the trip this year?"

His focus remained on Bleak Falls Barrow.

"No Rayya, but thank you. Are the children in bed?"

"Yes my Thane they are awaiting your bed time story."

"Okay, I'll be down in a moment."

Rayya took her leave, Fjorkvar stayed for a few minutes more as dark clouds gathered above and the skies opened up.

"We will meet again old friend."

Fjorkvar climbed down the ladder back into the warmth of his home. He walked into the bedroom where his children laid, sitting down in the chair next to the fireplace and recounted one of his adventures from his time in the Companions. Within the hour both were asleep and he took his leave. Walking through the main hall into the room directly across, he opened up the armoury doors. He casually walked up and down the room browsing each piece of armour, and remembering the events attached to them all. Finally he came to a stand still, in between two of his rarest sets on his left the Daedric armour he wore when he killed the feared vampire lord Harkon at Volkihar Keep and to his right rested a set of Dragon armour, that not only was put together by the bones of those dragons that fell to him in battle but also the very set he wore to bring an end to the First-Born of Akatosh. The stench of death poured from this set, while it seemed no one else smelt it, it was a fresh scent that Fjorkvar could never kick. It was the last thing so many people in Skyrim saw before they were slain whether for justice, revenge or just pure greed. It was the final image for Grendel the Kind, Ulfric Stormcloak, Titus Mede II and the entire Silver Hand amongst others. A suit born of death which continued to breed it across Skyrim. Fjorkvar still undecided heard a soft voice from behind him

"I always preferred your dragon set my love."

He turned to see a smile upon Ysolda's face

"Don't you remember how special this set is?"

All he could recall was the women and men that died in front of his eyes while he wore it.

"You crafted this the day before our wedding. You wanted to wear something that everyone who attended would not forget. We both turned up in white that day, which took the towns folk by surprise. They all thought you would wear that black one over there. But instead you turned up like a knight in shinning armour, well a knight in bony armour. So you should wear this one. It would be a mark of respect to those that died in Helgen at the hand of that monster that you slayed and all his brethren across this land.

Ysolda still with a smile hugged her husband.

"Never forget that you saved this land."

Fjorkvar couldn't think of anything to say back to his caring wife, so he whispered in his wives ear.

"Thank you my dear, don't wait up for me tonight."

She let go of her partner, kissing him on release. They both took a moment to smile at each other as she turned and walked away. He suited up, placing the Dragon armour on his body. Trying to adjust to its weight as it had been much too long since he had worn it last.

He left the armoury closing the doors behind him. Turning around Rayya greeted him.

"Your horse is waiting for you my Thane."

"Thank you Rayya, what about the flowers?"

Rayya hesitated.

"Well after some, let's say physical altercation. He finally came round to the idea of carrying them."

"He should be use to it by now right?"

"You would think so, also don't forget these."

Rayya handed Fjorkvar his weapons made of dragonbone. He took a moment to hold them.

"Feel weird huh?"

Fjorkvar nodded.

"You'd better get going"

Fjorkvar walked towards his front door, he stopped suddenly.

"Thank you Rayya"

He opened the door and in front of him stood Shadowmere, covered in baskets of flowers. A burst of laughter spilled out.

"I always said you needed to brighten up."

Shadowmere's posture changed and rage in his eyes was very clear. Fjorkvar noticed this and started to pat his stead.

"Settle down, this will all be over soon. Just get me to Helgen and I'll get this stuff off you and go back to your uncolorful self, deal?"

Shadowmere's posture once again changed this time to a more comfortable stance; Fjorkvar Dark-Heart saddled up once again patted his horse on the side of the neck.

"Come on then. Let's get this over with."