AN: Hey everybody! Thanks for checking out this story-been working on it for a little over a year. I don't want to talk too much about this fic before you start reading, but I wanted to point out two things. First is this story will update every Sunday night at 9pm EST, give or take a half hour for the site to process the new chapter. No exceptions unless a break is announced. Second is this is not a one-shot, even though it looks like one by the end of the first chapter. This first chapter follows the Imperial questline, but the following chapters will carry an original plotline.

So, enough announcements. Story time!

"They say if there's no song, there's no hero. The heroes of Tamriel only know white and black; no gray allowed. The bards sing of righteous fury and valiant victory. The end of the Civil War is a song the bards won't sing. It's a song of anger strong enough to decimate giants, a song of sadness that could create an ocean. It's a song of shameless lust and crippling loss, of courage and redemption, of crime and honor. It's definitely not a song the bards sing-only the nightingales do."

Hadvar breathed a sigh of relief as the prison carriages crossed the walls into Helgen. It had been an arduous fight to bring Ulfric Stormcloak to his knees, and the march to Helgen hadn't helped his aching body. The ambush near Darkwater Crossing was ingenious and certainly guaranteed victory to the Imperial Legion, but the Stormcloaks fought with an impressive tenacity. After an intense and blood-ridden battle, the Legion rounded up the surviving Stormcloaks to be executed in Helgen.

Hadvar caught sight of the black-robed high elves and tried his best to hide his glare. Even though the White-Gold Concordat demanded the Thalmor's presence in Skyrim, it didn't mean Hadvar had to like it. Most Imperial soldiers felt the same way, but all knew that if they didn't tolerate the presence, the Dominion would bring their wrath down on Skyrim. It was a truth the rebels failed to realize. He glanced along Helgen's familiar walls. The Legionnaire had made more than a few discreet trips up to the town a couple of years ago. Hadvar's uncle was never supportive of his choice to date Vilod, so Hadvar had made several "away on assignment" excuses to come to Helgen. He looked about the main plaza. Here was where the civil war would come to an end.

The prisoners' carts were parked by the town square and the rebels were starting to file out. Hadvar's superior officer handed him the list of prisoners and ordered him to take roll call. It gave Hadvar such delight to call Ulfric Stormcloak to the block. Not so much to call Ralof, his childhood friend, to the same fate.

The third name, Lokir, tried to make a break for it. Hadvar turned around as Lokir barreled past him, only to be shot down by Imperial archers. And then his life ground to a halt.

There, leaning on the rail just outside the inn, was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

She couldn't have been older than 20 or 21. Whatever skin showed from her grass-green dress was flawless, and her black hair waved as she chuckled at a joke the innkeeper's wife had made. Her verdant green eyes caught Hadvar staring, and she offered a confused wave. Hadvar took the hint, swallowed, and turned back to his work.

After all prisoners were called, Hadvar took his position near the executioner. He stole a glance at the black-haired woman again. This time, he caught her staring. She politely averted her eyes and continued her conversation with the innkeeper's wife.

The execution seemed to be going well initially, but all Oblivion broke loose when they reached the second prisoner. As the executioner raised his axe, a big, black….thing landed on the watchman's tower. The force of the beast's landing forced many to the ground, and its roar knocked off any stragglers.

"Dragon!" someone cried.

The next few moments were a blur of running, dodging blasts of fire, and jumping over crumbling rubble. The next thing he knew, Hadvar was shouting at a boy named Hamming to run to safety. But the massive dragon landed right in front of the boy. Hamming was paralyzed by fear, as the dragon opened its mouth and drew a breath. Before the worst could happen, someone grabbed the boy's arm and pulled him toward safety. Hadvar realized it was the woman from before as she dove for cover from the dragon's fire. Her attempt landed her face-planted into the ground next to him.

"Are you okay, miss?" Hadvar asked as he knelt next to her. She lifted herself onto her forearms, spitting dirt out of her mouth.

"Yeah I'm fine." she grunted. He was happy she was okay, but he had more pressing matters to attend to. There was still a dragon ravaging the town.

"Gunner!" Hadvar called. "Take care of these two. I have to find General Tullius and join the defense." The Imperial soldier ran off. He didn't get too far, though.

"Hey!" A hand grabbed his forearm. Hadvar turned to see the woman holding his arm. "In case you haven't noticed, that's an Oblivion-damned dragon over there! D-r-a-g-o-n! Unless you can pull Akatosh out of your boot, the town's lost." Hadvar looked around the ruined town. As much as he hated to admit it, the woman was right. None of their attacks seemed to even bother the dragon, and the black beast's white-hot breath had melted almost every stone building. Even if they had miraculously driven off the dragon, Helgen would still be a pile of burning rubble.

The soldier was jolted from his reverie when he was slammed into the ground. Hadvar looked up and saw that the woman had shoved him out of the way of a stray fire blast.

"How about we stop staring into space and start getting out of here?" She held out her hand to help him up.

"You're right." Hadvar said as he took her hand. "There's a keep just north of here. If we can get inside, I'm pretty sure there's a discreet way out of this town." The woman dusted some dirt off her dress.

"Sounds great to me." She dusted off her dress again. "Let's go before we're dinner."

The next few minutes were a blur of dodging more blasts of fire, falling debris, and dragon. The woman had no weapon, but she kept up quite well.

The duo ran into three Stormcloak soldiers twenty paces from the keep. Hadvar recognized one of them and his face curled into a snarl.

"Ralof, you damned traitor!" the Imperial soldier shouted. "Out of my way!"

"We're escaping, Hadvar." The Stormcloak named Ralof called back. "You're not stopping us this time!" Hadvar was about to jump at Ralof, but an elbow nudged him.

"Just a friendly reminder," the woman commented. She pointed towards the black beast. "Dragon. Hungry dragon." Hadvar sighed and ran into the keep.

The woman managed to slip through the keep's door just as the dragon released another burst of flame. She leaned against the door, panting.

"Looks like we made it." Hadvar breathed. "Was that really a dragon? The bringers of the End Times?"

"Unless that was a mutant pony, yes." Hadvar pondered for a brief moment in which one was more probable: mutant pony or resurrected dragon. He glanced at his partner again. She was dressed in civilian clothes, clothes which didn't offer much protection in a fight. He needed to find her some armor if she was going to survive.

Hadvar looked around the room. They seemed to be in some sort of barracks. The north side of the room had beds. The other side was a sort of kitchen and armory. Hadvar spotted a chest in the armory section and proceeded to open it. Much to his luck, there was still some Imperial light armor inside.

"Here." He said, tossing the woman the armor. "Put this on." She caught the armor and proceeded to inspect it.

"Hmm." she told herself. "This should do…" She paused, catching Hadvar's stare. She cleared her throat. "Do you mind?"

"Huh?" Hadvar was confused. The woman gave him an impressive "you're-an-idiot" look.

"It might be fine to watch your fellow Legionnaires change, but you're in the presence of a lady." Hadvar took the hint and turned around.

"My apologies, Miss…?"

"Anali."

"Anali?"

"No, don't pronounce it like that." Anali gave a wince. "Ah-naal-ee." Hadvar awkwardly cleared his throat. The rustling of fabric and leather stopped. "Okay, I'm done over here. Where'd you go?"

"In the kitchen." Hadvar replied. "I'm looking for a salve or something for these burns." Anali's head poked out from the side of the bookcase.

"What on Nirn makes you think you'll find it in the kitchen, of all places?" She asked incredulously.

"I don't know." Hadvar replied. "I just kind of look everywhere for everything, I guess." Anali rolled her eyes and adjusted the bracers of her armor.

"Well, you don't need a salve anyway." She said. "Let me see." Hadvar walked over to her and rolled up his sleeve. It was covered in gouging scrapes and expansive burns. Anali took one look at it and gently placed her soft hands on either side of the wound. She slowly pushed her hands over the wound. Restoration magic flowed from her fingertips and seeped into the burns. They were closed within seconds of exposure to the magic. Hadvar inspected his newly healed arm.

"I didn't know you could use magic." He said. Anali shrugged.

"I learned it while I was in the Synod." She replied. "It's a useful skill to learn."

"I'm assuming you're not as skeptical of its uses as the Nords are."

"That's because I'm an Imperial, probably."

"Well, anyway, thanks."

"No problem." Anali walked to the gate on the far side of the room and plucked two iron swords from a nearby rack. "So," she said, fastening both blades to her belt. "Are we ready to go?"

Over the course of traveling the keep, Hadvar quickly noticed he and Anali worked well as a team. He tended to charge blindly into battle. She preferred to use her intelligence and speed to handle things from a distance. He was the brawn, and she was the brains.

As they fought through Stormcloaks to reach the exit, Hadvar discovered that not only could Anali fight, but she could fight with a variety of weapons. Her default weapon was the two swords she dual wielded. If the enemy was at a distance, Anali would use either fire magic or a bow, whichever the opponent was weaker to. Hadvar asked her after the third skirmish where she had learned to fight like that. Anali replied that she'd picked up bits and pieces throughout her time living in Cyrodiil.

"Is that where you're from?" Hadvar asked.

"Yeah." She replied. "I have a place in Cyrodiil, but came to Skyrim to visit my sister. I apparently picked the wrong town to rest in."

"You can say that again." Hadvar smirked.

"I apparently picked the wrong town to rest in." Anali repeated, grinning from ear to ear. She seemed to like making jokes like that. "You didn't seem to have much better judgment."

"Well it's not like General Tullius could foresee a dragon attack."

"True. I guess the old codger was just unlucky."

"Old codger?" Hadvar winced.

"What, he doesn't come across like that to you?" Anali looked back at him.

"Of course not! He's the general of the Imperial Legion!"

"He's not even a tiny bit old to you?"

Hadvar crossed his arms as they walked. "I have nothing but respect for General Tullius." He said.

"That's not what I-you know what? Never mind." Anali sighed. "How about we focus on how to get out of here alive?"

Once the duo finally escaped Helgen, Anali and Hadvar celebrated with a hug. Yet it ended in an awkward tackle when Hadvar pushed them out of the dragon's line of sight.

"How did I not see that?" Anali wondered aloud. "It's a huge black dragon! How did I not see that!?"

"I don't know," Hadvar replied. "I guess you were too excited to see the sunlight."

The two of them disentangled from each other. After looking around to gain their bearings, Hadvar proposed a solution.

"Riverwood's not far from here." He said. "Why don't we rest up at my uncle's place there and figure out our game plan?" Anali thought for a moment.

"I was headed for Falkreath." She replied, fixing her collar. "While I'd love to meet this wacky uncle of yours, my sister will be worried sick about me if she isn't already. I'd best be on my way."

"All right." Hadvar said, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice. "I'll walk with you, at least until we have to part ways."

"No way." Anali breathed. "What did you do then?" They had been traveling for over an hour and there hadn't been a dry bit in conversation.

"There wasn't much else I could do." Hadvar replied. "My pesky cousin Dorthe and her friend Frodnar had tied me to the inside of the barrel by the time I woke up. Only my legs were free, so I could only waddle around in the barrel. I tried to get through the door to the house, but I couldn't fit. And I haven't touched any ale since."

Anali burst out laughing. "So tell me, just how awkward was it walking around town in a barrel?"

"About as awkward as being seen bathing."

"That's ah… that's pretty embarrassing."

"You'd better believe it was."

"And definitely not the worst thing that's ever happened to you." Hadvar was taken aback. Yes, Anali had prompted what the worst thing was before, and he responded with the barrel story. He thought he'd efficiently dodged the question.

"Come on." Anali snapped him out of his reverie. "You're a soldier." She pointed to the Helgen ruins behind them. "We literally just survived the first dragon attack in eons. Do you understand how crazy that is? And you're telling me the worst thing that's happened to you was when your cousin tied you to the inside of a barrel? I'm calling shenanigans."

"My superior officer was there!"

Anali ignored his comment. "Tell you what-I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." Hadvar was about to reply when he realized where they were.

"This is your stop." He said. "Falkreath is that way-" he pointed to the forest, "so we'll have to pick this up another time." Anali glanced warily at him before beginning to walk away.

"We're not done here." She called over her shoulder. "We'll pick this up when I join the Legion."

"Of course!" Hadvar called back. "I'll see you in Solitude!" So he had persuaded her to join up. Good. The Legion could use more free-form fighters like her.

At least, that's what he kept telling himself as he walked the rest of the way to Riverwood. No. It was not because he just wanted an excuse to see her again.

Hadvar did see Anali again. A month later, he was assigned to the platoon sent to retrieve the Jagged Crown in Korvanjund. His heart leapt when the saw the familiar black-haired woman appear behind Legate Rikke. As the rest of the platoon waited for Legate Rikke to be briefed, Hadvar gave Anali a hug.

"Well, look who it is!" He said. "I'm glad you decided to join us. The Stormcloaks don't stand a chance now!" Anali chuckled.

"Yeah, don't get your panties in a wad." She replied, playfully punching him in the arm. "There's only so much one can do, but with two…"

"Double the dead Stormcloaks." Hadvar finished, grinning.

"It's good to be here." Anali nodded.

"I'm glad you'll be in there with me." Hadvar said. "I don't like the looks of this ruin. And I'm not talking about the Stormcloaks..."

"So… You're just talking about the super sketchy architecture? Aw, do you need a teddy bear?" Hadvar reddened.

"N-no," he stammered. "You know what I mean, Anali." She waved him off, smiling.

"Of course I know what you mean." Anali said. "I'm just teasing you." She looked towards Korvanjund. "Yeah, something's definitely up with that ruin. What do you say we watch each other's backs?"

"Deal." Hadvar glanced a look at Anali's waist. She had changed swords since the last time he saw her.

"Those are new." Hadvar commented, pointing at them.

"Oh, yeah." Anali replied, drawing an orange blade from her hip. "I'm not stuck with those flimsy iron things we found in Helgen. Now I've got some real steel to back me up. But this Dwarven one," she gestured to the orange sword in her hands, "is my favorite. Beirand crafted it specially for me. He even inscribed my initials on it." Hadvar took a closer look. Sure enough, the letters AC were carved into the Dwarven metal just below the hilt.

"Fall in!" Legate Rikke barked. The platoon quit chatting and snapped into line. Anali took her place beside Hadvar and flashed him a smile. They were partners again. Legate Rikke paced back and forth in front of the troops.

"Listen up, soldiers!" She called to her troops. "Ulfric the Pretender wants the Jagged Crown, but we're not going to let him have it. General Tullius has sent us to retrieve that crown before Ulfric's men do. Stormcloaks have already camped out at the ruin. It's our job to dispatch them and retrieve the crown. The Stormcloaks don't know we're here yet, so we have the element of surprise. Move out! Let's hit them hard before they know we're here." Legate Rikke drew her sword and headed towards the tomb. Anali and Hadvar glanced at each other again.

"Here we go." Anali said as she drew her bow. "Here's hoping there aren't too many Stormcloaks or creepy draugr in there."

"Here's hoping." Hadvar seconded as he unsheathed his sword.

There were a good eight Stormcloaks patrolling the entrance of Korvanjund. Hadvar was placed in the front lines of the Legion's strike force, and Anali was behind him in a support role. It didn't take long for the Stormcloaks to spot the oncoming Imperials. Soon the ruin was host to a civil war skirmish.

Hadvar cut a Stormcloak to the ground and raised his shield to block another's warhammer before it connected with his head. A quick stab from beneath the shield landed Hadvar's sword in the rebel's stomach and the Stormcloak dropped to the ground. A third rebel charged, only to be shot down by a familiar arrow.

"Why don'tcha keep your head up for once?" Anali called as she nocked another arrow. The rest of the troop dispatched four more Stormcloaks. The last one by the entrance went up in a burst of flame, courtesy of Anali.

"Good work." Legate Rikke said as the Legion troop gathered in front of the doors. "They didn't know what hit them. But don't underestimate the Stormcloaks. Many are ex-Legion. They may be traitors, but they know how to fight. Come on. Let's show them what real soldiers look like." The troop of eight went inside the ruin. No sooner had they taken five steps inside Legate Rikke held out her fist, signaling a halt. A small force of rebels stood in the entrance chamber, watching the flames of a campfire. The Legion's troop approached quietly at a crawl, until Legate Rikke gave the signal to strike. Within minutes, the Stormcloak force was eradicated. The Legion's troop pressed on, moving from one chamber to the next.

"Phew." Anali said as they stopped for a quick break. "Things seem to be going our way."

"Well it's certainly not going theirs." Hadvar said as he took a swig of water from a deerskin and passed it to Anali. She drank a bit and passed it back to him.

"How are you holding up?" Anali asked. "Any wounds I should know about?"

"I'm fine." Hadvar replied. "What about you? Are you hurt?" Anali shook her head.

"Nope." She said. "Still in one piece."

After a bit more time resting, Legate Rikke gave the order to move out again. It wasn't long until the force came to a suspicious chamber. One smaller room had a short hallway leading into a much larger antechamber, complete with raised walkways surrounding the lower level.

"I don't like the looks of this." Legate Rikke said as she examined the doorway. "Perfect spot for an ambush. Ten to one they're just waiting for us on the other side."

"But there isn't any other way through, Legate." A soldier spoke up.

"Patience." Legate Rikke responded. "The Legion always finds a way. I'd rather take a moment and look around than walk blindly into an ambush." Her eyes scanned the force. "Anali." She called.

"Yes, ma'am?" Anali's voice was crisp.

"See if you can find another way through. We'll charge in to help as soon as we hear fighting."

"Yes, ma'am."

Hadvar couldn't believe his ears. Legate Rikke was sending Anali to scout out an ambush by herself? What if the rest of the force didn't come in time? Anali wore the lightest armor of the force. There's no way she could survive against several Stormcloaks alone. Hadvar's concern was apparently evident, as before he knew it Anali was talking into his ear.

"Don't worry." She whispered. "I'll be fine. You stay here and do as you're told." With that, Anali headed back up the stairs and jogged through a hall on the second floor. And then there was silence.

The rest of the force waited. And waited. And waited. As the seconds passed into minutes, Hadvar's mind raced. Were there any Stormcloaks at all over there? Were they hiding? Did they slit Anali's throat before she could cry out?

Sound finally came in the form of a deafening explosion. The force rushed in to assess the situation. The entire left side of the walkway was engulfed in flames. Burning Stormcloaks littered the walkway. Fearing the worst, Hadvar's eyes searched the upper level, desperate to find Anali's figure. He found her two swords engaged in fierce combat with two Stormcloaks on either side of her. Hadvar was on the walkway in a flash, charging at the closest offending Stormcloak with a fearsome battle cry. The Legionnaires shield knocked the rebel to the ground, and Anali used her newly freed hand to add leverage to the other Stormcloak's weapon lock. Anali and Hadvar's backs touched, protecting each other's blind spots. Anali broke the lock by sliding out from under the battleaxe's trajectory. The Stormcloak's inertia forced him to stumble forward, giving Anali a wide-open shot at the back of his neck. She took it.

Hadvar made to execute a shield bash, but the rebel on his side dodged the strike. The Stormcloak retaliated with a swing from his mace, but his weapon only met Hadvar's shield. Hadvar tried to strike with his sword, but ended up with the same fate. With both sword and shield preoccupied, Hadvar went with what he thought was the next best option.

He brazenly head-butted the rebel in the face.

The edge of his helmet connected with the base of the rebel's nose. The Stormcloak staggered backwards from the force of the blow, and Hadvar took the opportunity to drive his sword through the rebel's chest.

The rest of the straggling Stormcloaks that weren't caught in the fire blast were quickly dispatched by the rest of the force. Legate Rikke wasted no time in locating Anali and marched up to her.

"We heard an explosion." Legate Rikke snapped. "What on Nirn happened?"

"Oh, that." Anali replied, sheathing her swords. "Well, the Stormcloaks didn't notice me entering the chamber. So I took a quick look around, and noticed the majority of them were standing in a puddle of oil. I looked up and saw that a fire pot was hanging above them, so I shot an arrow at that. You, uh… heard the rest, ma'am." Legate Rikke crossed her arms over her chest.

"Well," the legate said. "I suppose that's one mystery solved. Come on. Let's move out." Legate Rikke walked away.

"She seemed abrasive." Anali said, turning back to Hadvar. "Is she mad at me or something?"

"I think the legate's always like that." Hadvar replied. "You get used to it."

"Anali! Hadvar!" Legate Rikke barked, standing by some strange, circular door with Nordic carvings.

"Guess that's our cue to go." Hadvar said, walking towards the superior officer.

"I need you two to find a way past this door." Legate Rikke said when Anali and Hadvar rejoined the group. "I'll be checking out these carvings on the wall. Let me know if you find something." The legate walked off. Hadvar turned to Anali.

"Any bright ideas?" He asked her. Anali narrowed her eyes, walking closer to the door. Her hand traced three indentations in the center of the door.

"It's as if something fits in here…" Anali mumbled to herself. She turned back to Hadvar. See if you can find any object with three small prongs." She told him. Hadvar glanced around. There wasn't much in the Hall of Stories, save two dead Stormcloaks lit by a torch. Hadvar took a closer look. The Legion hadn't killed these two… they were dead before the Legion got here. He took a closer look at their wounds. Frost burns were evident, as well as battleaxe gashes and warhammer dents. These wounds weren't made by Legionnaires. Hadvar peered closer. There was something odd next to one of the Stormcloaks He picked it up.

"Is this some sort of claw?" He asked, incredulous. Anali turned around. She took the ebony object in her hands. Anali looked back at the door.

"It looks like it…" Her voice trailed off when she saw the three claws on the black ornament. Hadvar saw what she thought and walked over to the door. He inserted the claw into the indentations and turned it a bit. Nothing happened.

"Well," Anali said. "We're on the right track. It's the claw that fits." She joined him at the door. "There must be something we're missing…" Anali took the claw back. She turned it over and inspected the symbols on the ornament's underside. "These symbols here don't match the ones on the door." She ran her hand over the surface of the door. Anali's hand caught on the lip of one of the symbols and the arc underneath it shifted slightly. Hadvar watched as Anali moved the symbols on the door to match the ones on the claw. She reinserted the ornament and turned the claw. The door sank into the ground.

"Huh." Anali said to herself. "That wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

"Good job." Legate Rikke said as she came up to them. "Tell you what- you can keep that claw as a reward."

"Well, thank you ma'am." Anali said, looking over the claw.

After spelunking for a bit once the door opened, the force finally found the fabled Jagged Crown. They had lost one or two men in the process, but Anali and Hadvar pulled through to the end. They protected each other throughout the battle. Once the Jagged Crown was finally in the Legion's possession, Legate Rikke ordered Anali to carry the crown to General Tullius, since she was the fastest of the force. Hadvar walked with her until the entrance of Korvanjund.

"So…" Hadvar said. "You're leaving us?"

"I guess so." Anali replied. "I wasn't officially part of this force. General Tullius just sent me here as an auxiliary. He'll probably want me somewhere else now."

"Well, take care of yourself, all right?" Hadvar put his hands on his hips.

"Yeah. You too."

"No I mean it Anali. Don't go running into any more ambushes. Go around instead."

"And I mean it too. Don't go head butting any more Stormcloaks. Try a sword."

It actually wasn't long before Hadvar saw Anali again. It was when Hadvar's regiment was stationed to Whiterun after Jarl Balgruuf finally accepted Imperial aid in the imminent Stormcloak invasion.

The platoon leadership had changed hands from Legate Rikke to Legate Cipius once it returned to Solitude, in preparation for Whiterun's garrison. General Tullius had been pushing to garrison troops in Whiterun for a while. He had been pooling platoon after platoon and threw them all under Legate Cipius' command.

Given the huge influx of soldiers into Whiterun, the barracks and Dragonsreach couldn't house all of them. Most of the Legionnaires ended up setting up camp outside Whiterun's walls, sharing tents. Hadvar was vainly trying to cook a rabbit's leg for a snack when he met his bunkmate.

"Hey." a burly Nord-about Hadvar's build-clad in Imperial heavy armor lumbered up to Hadvar's tent. "You're Hadvar, right?"

"That's me." Hadvar said, standing from his place at the fire pit. The Nord removed his helmet and shook his greasy blonde hair into the wind.

"Looks like I'm your bunkmate. I'm Quintus. Great to meet you." The Nord extended his hand in friendship, and Hadvar took it. "Know any girls you can hook me up with?" Hadvar blinked.

"Uh," Hadvar said, scratching his head. "Not really, man. There's not too many girls in the Legion."

"Oh, really?" A familiar voice sounded behind Hadvar. A feminine hand touched his shoulder. "Then what am I?" Hadvar spun around. It was Anali.

"Anali!" Hadvar squeaked, startled. "Uh, nice to see you here…" His timid response earned him a raised eyebrow from Anali. Quintus whooped.

"Wow!" he said. "You sure turn up nice ones! I need to hang around you from now on!" Quintus turned to Anali. "Hey, baby." he said. "Is there anything a strong Nord man can do for you this fine day?" Anali raised the other eyebrow, crossing her arms.

"Oh, there's plenty of things." Anali said. Hadvar couldn't believe this was happening. "But there doesn't seem to be any strong Nord men around. Such a shame." Quintus huffed.

"Well then." He said. "Fiery one, eh?" Hadvar had heard enough.

"Okay okay." He said, positioning himself between Anali and Quintus. "That's enough of that. She said no."

"I know." Quintus replied, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "I wasn't going anywhere further." Anali moved to examine the half-charred rabbit.

"You guys aren't going to try to eat that, are you?" She asked. Hadvar looked at her.

"What's wrong with it?" He replied. She held up the burnt meat.

"How about-I don't know-the whole thing? Did you even salt the meat?"

"Ummm… no?" Anali sighed.

"Okay fine. Wait right here, I'll go get you some real food." Anali trotted off towards her own campsite, leaving the two boys to themselves.

"So," Quintus said as they sat in front of the fire. "You and her?" Hadvar reddened.

"Uh," he said. "Nope. Not at all. Not in the slightest."

"It's okay, man." Quintus said. "I get it." He winked. Hadvar sighed. "This battle is supposed to be a doozy. If you don't make a move now, you may never get the chance."

"Come on, man." Hadvar protested. "Don't talk like that." Quintus shrugged.

"It's the truth." He replied. "Whiterun is strategically vital if either side wants to win this war. Ulfric just proved his own strength. Now he wants to open the war with an even more ferocious force-The Stormcloaks. See where I'm going?"

"Doom and gloom." Anali creeped up from behind the boys. "That's where you're going with this." She tossed the boys a rabbit leg each, then sat down in front of the fire with her own. "Why's that a bad thing? Hadvar and I have fought dragons. Stormcloaks should be a complete breeze."

"This won't be like Korvanjund." Hadvar said. "There won't be a few intermittent Stormcloaks here and there. We're talking waves upon waves of enemies barreling straight at us." Anali shrugged.

"Bah." She said. "Let them come. "It'll be interesting."

The next few days were filled with tense waiting. Wake up, go on watch, look for anything that dares to move, figure out if it's wearing blue, eat lunch, train, eat dinner, go patrol some more, and then bed. A simple rustle in the bushes had the Legionnaires on alert. As the days passed, the camp grew more and more restless.

On the eve the Legion had received the approaching Stormcloaks' whereabouts, Hadvar couldn't find Anali anywhere. He had checked her campsite, his campsite, inside Whiterun, Dragonsreach, the walls, and the stables. No one had seen her, or knew where she had gone.

He had finally found her near the river outside Honningbrew Meadery.

She was sitting on the riverbank, watching the fish swim by. Her Dwarven sword gleamed in the sunset. If Hadvar had a way to capture that image and hold onto it forever, he would.

"Hey." Hadvar said as he walked up to Anali. She turned around.

"Hey," she called back. "What are you doing here? Isn't it your watch?"

"I was looking for you." he replied. "You seemed to have vanished out of thin air."

"Me?" Anali asked, incredulous. "Vanish? No. I can't sneak around a troll for the life of me." Hadvar smirked as he sat down next to her.

"We'll have to try that out sometime." He said.

"Yeah, no." Anali replied. "I vote we don't do that." Hadvar laughed. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the first peace they've had since arriving in Whiterun.

"So," Hadvar finally said, turning back to Anali. "Shall we address the mammoth in the room?" Anali blinked slowly, staring at him.

"Well," she replied. "Given that we're not actually in a room per se, and instead sitting in the mammoth's natural habitat… Bah, whatever. What is this theoretical mammoth in the room?"

"Why'd you run away out here?"

"Oh." Anali said. "That." She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess the camp just got to me."

"How so?"

"...You were right." Anali said after a moment of silence. "This is definitely going to be the hardest fight we've had yet. I'm… trying to figure out how to live through it."

"Hey." Hadvar replied. "Your training will kick in. Don't worry, you'll know what to do."

"That's not what I mean." Anali said. "Even if I know what I'm doing, even if I find a way to survive, how do I live with myself afterwards? I'd have taken hundreds of lives. And what if i lose allies? Friends? What if I lose you? How do I live with myself after that?" Hadvar placed his hands on her shoulders and looked Anali in the eye.

"You're not going to lose me," Hadvar said as he placed a kiss on Anali's lips. "Because I've got your back. Always."

"I guess we can't pretend we're just friends anymore, huh?" Anali said as he pulled back. Hadvar chuckled.

"No." He replied. "I guess not." In truth, they were never friends to begin with. They were partners-in both love and war-since the moment they teamed up against the dragon at Helgen. A heavy moment passed.

"You never told me what the worst thing that happened to you was." Anali said after a while. Hadvar huffed.

"I thought you forgot about that." He said.

"Nope." Anali said, grinning. "There's a lot of things I don't forget. This is one of them. We're just going to sit here all night until you crack open."

"It's kind of a long story."

"We've got time. It's only what, seven-thirty?"

"Fine." Hadvar sighed. "My father used to be a good man. He was a Legionnaire, but had really changed after his last tour. He became an alcoholic and started beating me when I was a kid. My mother had spent her time fantasizing about the day he'd come back from tour, and didn't want to believe what he had become. So she turned a blind eye, and never did anything about it. So yeah, that's the worst thing that happened to me. My drunk father beating me to bits."

"You said he was with the Legion." Anali said. "And you're a Legionnaire now."

"My father was a good man before his last tour, and he'd been in the Legion a while beforehand. I was looking for more structure, and found it here. Besides, this war is bigger than the squabbles I had with my father. I need to do my part."

"Well," Anali said. "You never have to worry about something like that again." She placed a kiss on his lips. "Because I've got your back. Always."

They never went back to the camp that night.

The Stormcloaks were knocking on Whiterun's door a few days later. It was early morning, about 5:00 AM. Hadvar and Anali stepped out of Hadvar's tent to find the first volley of fireballs flying past them. The camp was chaos in minutes. The war horn sounded as soldiers ran to their positions. The pair exchanged a quick peck and ran to their own positions-Anali to the wall and Hadvar to the vanguard.

"You ready for this, man?" Quintus said as he took his place beside Hadvar. Hadvar huffed.

"As ready as I'll ever be." He replied. Hadvar ducked under a flying fireball. "Pleasant weather for a war, no?"

"They're here!" A Legionnaire on the wall shouted. "Coming in from the farms!"

"Protect the barricade at all costs!" Legate Rikke shouted. The Stormcloak vanguard reached the stables, battleaxes drawn. "Archers!" Legate Rikke commanded. "Fire at will!"

The first volley flew out in a straight line, then the arrows turned to a rain of death. The volleys thinned out some of the oncoming Stormcloaks, but those who weren't hit reached the blockade. They were tearing through the wood in minutes.

"Vanguard!" Legate Rikke shouted. "Phalanx formation!"

The vanguard barely had enough time to line up their shields before the Stormcloaks were crashing into them. The line took the force of the impact, then started pushing back. Slowly but surely, the phalanx forced the Stormcloak warriors back into the archers' line of sight. The Imperial vanguard held the Stormcloaks in place while the archers rained arrows from above. All seemed to be going well. That is, until a flaming boulder crashed into the bottom of the gate roof. The boulder fell on top of the Imperial vanguard, breaking the shield line. The Stormcloaks rushed through the injured vanguard and into the auxiliary lines behind them.

The semi-ordered situation had turned to utter chaos. The Imperial Legion's trademark lines had turned to a mess of Stormcloak and Legionnaire. Everyone was fighting everyone.

Hadvar recovered from the stagger from the fireball. He looked over and found Quintus, his leg trapped under the flaming boulder. Hadvar didn't think twice. He ran over to the boulder and began to push. The huge rock was still hot, but Hadvar ignored the searing pain in his hands. He saw a Stormcloak charge at him, only to receive an arrow in between the eyes. Hadvar looked up and saw Anali nock another arrow. With one final heave, the boulder finally rolled off of Quintus' leg. Hadvar helped his friend up and led him to the health tent. When he turned around, Hadvar saw Stormcloaks swarming in through the wide-open gateway. He didn't know what to do. So he did the first thing that came to mind.

He ducked his head and charged.

Hadvar blasted through the old barricade and shoved his sword through a Stormcloak's gullet. He bashed his shield into another's forehead. One...two...three...four Stormcloaks went down in a matter of three seconds. Hadvar was a tank, destroying rebel after rebel. That is, until he was knocked to the side and the world started spinning. Hadvar shook his head and looked up in time to see the Stormcloak commander raise his warhammer for another strike. He was about to bring down the blow when he erupted in a burst of flame.

Anali's blurry form was there in seconds, her Dwarven sword flashing through rebels while she handled magic in her other hand. Stormcloaks on her left would explode in flame while she cut through the ones on her right. Hadvar felt someone pull him back towards the health tent while Anali tried to force the Stormcloak swarm into a retreating position. She managed to get the majority of them in front of her when she threw a rune spell between the swarm and herself. The rune expanded into a wall of fire as Anali backed away with the clear intent of retreating. The Stormcloaks didn't seem to want to cross the wall of fire and continue their offensive, and Hadvar thought for a moment Anali had successfully stopped their advancement. That is, until a Stormcloak general rushed through her fire. Hadvar realized that the flame wall wasn't really a wall-it was a bluff, a bluff that the Stormcloaks had called. The last thing Hadvar saw was the Stormcloak force charging Anali before he blacked out.

Hadvar awoke to the ceiling of the Temple of Kynareth. He turned his head to see that he was lying in a bed, and that Anali was leaning in a chair next to him-arms crossed and eyes closed. Hadvar tried to call out to her, but only coughs made it out of his throat. Without even opening her eyes, Anali placed her hand on his forehead and casted a healing spell. She finally looked over to the nightstand nearby and picked up a glass of water. After she helped him have a drink, Hadvar could finally speak.

"You're alive." He croaked. Anali glared daggers at him.

"What else is new?" Her humorless voice held a hint of anger. "You, on the other hand, are a piece of work." Anali's arms were crossed again. Hadvar was confused.

"What did I do?" he asked. He was rewarded with a whack to the shoulder.

"What did you do?" Anali practically yelled at him. "Where do I even begin? Touching a burning boulder with your bare hands? Rushing into enemy lines by yourself? Are you stupid?"

Hadvar was at a loss for words. Might have something to do with the headache.

"That was absolutely unacceptable!" Anali continued her verbal rampage. "You were rash, reckless, stupid… Definitely stupid. Did I mention stupid? I thought..." Anali stopped mid sentence and rubbed her temples. "Forget it. I'm going outside. I need to get out of this room." She left through the main door, slamming it shut behind her. Hadvar turned his head to see classic Quintus sitting on the bed opposite him, a grin on his face.

"Well, that was a wake-up call if I ever saw one." Quintus said. "They say Oblivion hath no fury like a woman's scorn. How are you feeling, man?" Hadvar huffed.

"Like I was hit by a dragon." He said. "And then Shouted by said dragon." Quintus laughed.

"That sounds about right." He said. "Go easy on Anali, though. She's been sitting in that chair for the past 14 hours. I don't she's eaten or slept since the battle began yesterday." Hadvar looked at his friend.

"She's been sitting here the whole time?" He asked. Quintus nodded.

"Yeah, man." He replied. "She was really worried about you. I've never seen her that anxious before. Not even before the battle began. She called you 'selfish' a number of times."

Hadvar's eyes widened. Now it all made sense. "What if I lose you? How do I live with myself after that?" Anali's words from a few nights ago rang in his head. He was being selfish. He let the heat of battle get to him without considering how Anali would feel about his actions. He'd have to find her and sort things out with her once she'd calmed down. Hadvar turned back to Quintus.

"I take it we won, at least?"

After the Battle for Whiterun, the Legion started to separate Hadvar and Anali. The promotions they had earned placed them in different branches of the Legion. Hadvar started out with a command position with a small scouting force, ambushing Stormcloak supplies. Anali was enlisted with a troop of shock troopers called Troop IX, focusing in hit-and-run tactics against the Stormcloaks. They both still kept up with each other, syncing up their military leaves and writing letters to each other. As time passed, Hadvar rose through the ranks to command Fort Greymoor, which was a fact Anali often teased him about.

"You?" She'd say. "Commanding? We can kiss that fort good-bye. ...Congrats, by the way."

They cherished every moment they had together, since they seemed few and far between. Until the inevitable happened.

The day was the 21st of Frostfall. One of Hadvar's men told him some soldiers were waiting for him outside the fort. Hadvar went outside to find two grave Imperial scouts facing him, helmets in their hands. One held an orange sword in its scabbard. Their message was frank.

"Troop IX has been ambushed by a Stormcloak force while escorting a wagon." The other scout said. "There were no survivors."

Terrified, Hadvar grabbed the sword from the scout. With the worst premonition, he unsheathed the Dwarven sword enough to look at its hilt. The initials AC were inscribed on the base of the blade. It confirmed Hadvar's fears.

Anali Caerellia was dead.