A/N:I'm sorry! Please don't hate me! Thank you all for the reviews. You've all been wonderful people. I won't blame you if you decide not to read this fic anymore but…I can change, baby! I won't leave you ever again! I promise! Give me another chance! ;_;

Also, drama! Woo!

Chapter Nine: The Dragonborn Travels to Ysgramor

The firelight from Vilkas' torch was violently snuffed out by the harsh arctic wind. Vilkas and Miura had been traveling for hours upon hours. Their destination: the tomb of Ysgramor. The last thing Miura would have expected was Eorlund being able to repair Wuulfrad. She did not doubt his abilities, being that he was quite possibly the best blacksmith in Skyrim, but she was still wrought with a mixture of disbelief and confusion.

So this famed weapon could help Kodlak somehow? That was all the reason Vilkas needed to charge through the open, icy tundra to find out, and she had to admit that she was glad to be traveling with him once more. When they'd first set out, he barely gave anyone time to prepare, saying that what they were doing was 'for Kodlak' and that there was no time to waste. His misguided anger had been replaced with determination to fulfill Kodlak's last wish. The others naturally followed along with their own burning desire to see this through but the group had inconveniently been separated due to a run in with a few wraiths the night before.

Despite his feelings on the issue, Miura simply felt she needed to do her part. It was the only way she could think to atone for not being there for Kodlak when he needed it most. None of the other Companions were as hard on her as Vilkas was. In fact, many had praised her for bringing the witches' heads despite the folly it seemed to be. But to know that Kodlak may have been onto something after all eased Miura's heart just a little bit.

As she pondered this, the snow became thinner and thinner as the wind whipped her hair against her face. Vilkas had slowed his run before she could adjust her own pace and she slid freely against the ice under her. Vilkas quickly grabbed a hold of her arm and steadied her.

"Be careful. It's not safe ground to walk on. The ice could break and then…well, you know the rest."

His tone was guarded but a lot softer than she'd heard in what seemed like ages. If she dared to hope, it almost sounded like he was worried for her.

"I didn't notice." She whispered, mostly to herself. She should have noticed, considering where they were. It was just so difficult to keep up with Vilkas. The beast within him knew nothing of rest, as she herself could attest, but where her burden made her more tired his would push him to go harder. That was most likely the reason he'd ever agreed to become such a monster, but she could also tell that there was pain in his eyes. He wanted to rest, probably more than she did, but wouldn't allow it. Kodlak's wish was more important.

Miura continued to inch across the ice with Vilkas close by to make sure she didn't keel over. Both took care to look around for the colder brethren of the Sabre Cat that was known to stalk these parts. Miura winced. More cats. She'd seen some a little ways back but none seemed to stalk their path so far. It would be almost comical to try to fend one off on a slippery block of ice. Luckily, there were still none in sight.

"We may have to swim across at some point," Vilkas hissed as they approached the end of the land.

A vast expanse of ice water appeared through the snowy wind with very few drops of what looked to be land here and there. And then beyond was a much larger island with a much more noticeable structure. They were close, but not as close as Miura had hoped. Vilkas began maneuvering across to one solid-looking piece of ice and beckoned her to follow. For a while they continued to do this until the small bits of land ran out and there was a great gap of water between them and their next solid soil. Vilkas jumped first, muttering curses as he began to swim. He only slowed when he realized that no one was following him and shouted out until he saw Miura's lithe form sink into the water.

"There's a shrine there, of Talos. Imperials would have to freeze their blood to dare tamper with it," he bit through his chattering teeth. He wasn't sure if Miura has heard him, but he was sure she was still moving by the sounds of splashing behind him.

When both rose to the surface, the wind nipped at their wet forms. Miura was too cold for coherent thought, clutching at the soaked fur over her armor as if it could warm her like it once did. Vilkas seemed only slightly inconvenienced as he trudged through the snow to catch a glimpse around the rising path. Overhead was mighty Talos.

"Wraiths!" Miura suddenly shouted. Sharp icicles darted towards them.

Vilkas raised his weapon and hurled at the flickering crystal of ice. Miura only cringed as the blade went right through and inwardly groaned at the sight of two more coming closer. She didn't have an enchanted bow and not enough skill to create one. She didn't have the resolve that Vilkas had to blindly strike out at them until they fell. So, the next best thing was her own magic. She scowled. As much as she loathed doing this, it was sorry seeing Vilkas' strikes to nothing to the creatures. A warm glow surrounded her hands.

"Watch out!" She cried as she unleashed the first fireball. It exploded against the wraith, melting it instantly.

"What are you doing!?" he shouted, continuing to swing his blade around forcefully. There was only the sound of it clanking against the hard, cold creature. Two more fireballs whizzed past his head. The first fizzled out into nothingness but the other hit a wraith that was flailing around beside him. One to go.

Miura's fourth and final fireball hit the last wraith before Vilkas could express his anger and only fueled the flames of his disappointment. When he realized the threat was gone, he strode over to Mura and tightened his grip around her arm.

"Spells are for the weak. The elves use that stuff," he hissed.

"And they've become the most powerful of us all with their spells." She retorted, forcing her arm away from him. "Wraiths are weak to their counter-element. Unless I had one of those fancy enchanted weapons, there would've been not much else I could do."

"You could have shouted the thing to death. That's what the Dragonborn does, right?"

"That would be foolish! Fire was the only option. I did what I had to," she concluded.

Attempting to make her way ahead of him, Miura forced her feet though the untouched snow. Inches and inches built its way up from years of neglect. Not a soul had ventured here for a long time, she figured. But before she could gain a significant lead, she felt the point of a blade at her back.

"We don't need another battle."

"You can use whatever the hell you want as long as there's no magic." He stated in a low voice. Miura stiffened.

"Let's just go, Vilkas. We're almost there."

"Ah, so you are afraid. Typical."

Her eyes narrowed and she heaved a heavy sigh. This would bring them ever closer to nowhere and her wet clothing was already weighing her down. But it was clear Vilkas wouldn't back down. Miura turned around and pulled an axe that was strapped to her back.

"Prove yourself."

"We've done this before, Vilkas. We need to get to Ysgramor as fast as we can. This wind is hitting me like a shield to the face. If we don't get out of here soon, we'll freeze our fingers off."

She tried to reason with him but she knew that her reasoning only got her so far.

"It's always you and your damned spells. You hide behind them thinking that they give you real power," he sneered, slowly moving around her, waiting for his moment to strike. "The gods must have closed their eyes the day they allowed their blood run through your veins."

It hurt her to hear this. Every word hit her like an actual blow.

"Please, Vilkas. I don't want to fight you like this."

Before she could say any more, he rushed at her. The sheer force of his hit sliding her backwards through the snow. Her tiny axe could only hold so much of his force back and metal slid of off metal in the fierce wind. Vilkas tried to land another blow at her but she leaped back in time to avoid it. Ache burned at her arms as she raised her axe again. She could feel them weakening and tried to keep them steady as she sidestepped.

"I want you to show me whatever it was that Kodlak saw in you!" he cried, running towards her.

Others would blame it on the wind scratching ice and snow into her eyes. Kinder folk would say it was the weight of the water clinging though her clothes. But Miura knew it was he own weakness. Her axe flew aimlessly until it landed with a thud into the heaps of snow. Vilkas used his pommel to knock her to the ground.

"I yield! I yield!" she shouted. The tip of his blade lightly jabbed at her throat.

"Of course you do." He lowered his sword. Miura made no movement.

"I don't know why…huh…they chose me. I don't." she breathed, each breath ragged in the thin air.

A moment of silence passed between them. Ghostly whisperers of long dead heroes and the whipping wind provided the only sound in the cold wilderness.

"We'd better continue on. We're almost near the coast."

"Vilkas…I…"

Miura caught a brief glimpse of remorse on his unkempt features as he turned from her.

"I may have been too harsh with you. It wasn't fair of me. I'm sorry."

But he could not be as sorry as Miura.