The Last Dragonborn

Chapter 3

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It took me several hours to get Mjoll to Anga's Mill. The shadows were long and they were just finishing up work when we stumbled up the road. They charged me a ridiculous amount of gold for a creaky old hand cart that looked as though it hadn't been used in years. I tried to hire one of the men to help me push it but they all shuffled away no matter how much gold I offered. One mumbled after us about strangers bringing nothing but trouble. He wasn't wrong. Sometimes it seemed that was all I brought. The curse of the Dragonborn.

I helped Mjoll get settled in the cart and tossed our knapsacks in after her. By that time Mjoll was drifting in and out of consciousness sometimes mumbling softly, other times I had stopped to check her breathing. I tucked both our bedrolls around her, trying to keep her warm. Satisfied she was comfortable I set off downhill towards the city at a brisk trot. The pace didn't last. I may have the soul of a dragon but i don't have their strength and my shoulder still throbbed from the dragon attack. What little strength I had I spent half carrying Mjoll to the Mill.

By the time I crossed the river and the fires of Windhelm came into view it was long passed sundown. My arms were shaking and my legs burned as I pushed the cart up the last hill. I was forced to leave the cart near the stables. Only foot traffic was permitted on the bridge.

I hadn't been to Windhelm in years. Not since I discovered I was Dragonborn and declined Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak's invitation to publicly support his rebellion. I even made it a point to avoid the city while on Guild business. But here I was walking back across the bridge towards the main gate. In the dark the three eagle head statues that adorned the stone monolith seemed more sinister than I remembered. The bridge felt narrower as well and it seemed as though every guard was staring at me. The last time I was in the city Ulfric publicly labeled the dragonborn an enemy of the Stormcloaks and declared I was to be arrested on sight. So maybe that had something to do with it.

I slung Mjoll's arm and our gear over my shoulders and trudged towards the gate. It felt like the eyes of every guard were on us. I had no idea what I would do if they stopped us and tried to arrest me. There would be no fighting my way out of this. Begging for help sounded about right. I could feel Mjoll's strength leaving her. She had nearly stopped being able to help me at all by the time we entered the city.

Lucky for us the city's inn Candlehearth Hall was directly inside the gates. It was late enough, drunken revelers were falling over themselves both inside and outside the inn so we were able to enter without garnering too much attention.

I pushed open the door and leaned Mjoll against the wall near the stairs, setting our packs at her feet. The goat horn sconces cast only a flickering light. She was deathly pale. Her eyelids only fluttered at my words but she somehow managed to keep her feet.

I elbowed my way to the counter. The nord woman looked up. She blanched a little at the sight of me. Had I not been so concerned about Mjoll I never would have shown up in my Nightingale armor, it drew too much attention. It only took a moment for her to regain her composure and the shrewd business woman took over. "Got some fresh baked bread and cheese, if you're looking for a bite to eat."

"No thank you," I said as politely as possible. "But I'd like to rent a room."

Her eyes drifted over to Mjoll. "Just the one?"

"Yes ma'am," I responded, though I dropped enough gold on the counter for three rooms. I sincerely hoped the added gold would encourage her to keep her tongue about our presence in her establishment.

"Sure thing. It's yours for a day. First room on the left." She whisked the coins off the counter and replaced them with a key. Her movements were so smooth and fast even I had to appreciate her skill.