It was one girl's dream to be a warrior when everyone in her small village wanted peace, but the predicted danger set the wheel of fate in motion. The murder of High King Torygg that divided Skyrim, the prophecy of the "World Eater", Alduin, and the manifold divisions that have wrought such damage upon the land unravel the tales of the one to defeat them all. "In their tongue he is called Dovakiin: Dragonborn." *I do not own Skyrim. Skyrim belongs to BETHESDA and the cover belongs to Lindsay Stirling*

Maybe it was the way his eyes were so brown you thought they were black. Or maybe it was the way he watched everyone, with his head slightly tilted forward and his left hand tense. Or maybe it was how he leaned against the wall, slightly away from everyone but still considered there. But I think it was the way his lips wrapped around the filter of the cigarette perfectly and his cheeks sucked in, to show slightly more of his striking chiseled jaw, and how the smoke seemed to stay around his face slightly longer then necessary, as if it didn't want to leave him. I fell in love with the way he smoked his cigarettes.