As I step through the rugged wooden gates of Riverwood, the air is thick with tension, and the chill of the mountain wind bites at my skin. Suddenly, a voice pierces the stillness, full of urgency and fear.

"A dragon! I saw a dragon!" An older woman stands on her porch, her face pale and wild, eyes wide with the terror of what she has witnessed. Her hands tremble at her sides as she gazes toward the jagged silhouette of Bleak Falls Barrow as if the mere sight of it could conjure the beast once more.

A younger man lingers in the street, his brow furrowed in annoyance as he rolls his eyes skyward. "What? What is now, mother?" His tone is sharp and dismissive as if he's heard these wild tales too many times.

"It was as big as the mountain and black as night!" she insists, her voice filling with raw emotion. "It flew right over the barrow, I swear it!" Her gaze darts between the sky and her son, pleading for him to understand.

"Dragons, now, is it? Please, mother," he scoffs, crossing his arms defensively. "If you keep on like this, everyone in town will think you're crazy. And I've got better things to do than listen to more of your fantasies." With that, he turns on his heel, striding away with a hasty gait, leaving her behind.

A wave of sympathy washes over me, and I want nothing more than to comfort her, to tell her that she isn't mad—that dragons are as real as the mountains looming over us. But Ralof nudges me forward, and I know I must follow, even as my heart aches for the woman's plight.

As I step onto the small wooden bridge that arches over a babbling brook, her voice calls out one last time, filled with desperation. "You'll see! It was a dragon! It'll kill us all, and then you'll believe me!" Her words hang in the air like a prophecy, a chilling echo that cuts deep into my soul. I want to cry for her, but the tears refuse to come.

Crossing the bridge, I catch sight of an elf trudging in the opposite direction, his arms laden with firewood. His expression is a mask of anger, his jaw tight as if he's carrying the world's weight on his shoulders. Perhaps the heaviness of this cursed land makes everyone here seem so grim. I can't help but wonder what horrors Riverwood has faced and whether the dragon truly is upon us.

"Did I see you talking to Sven?" A stranger's voice cuts through the morning air's chill, pulling my attention away from Ralof. He stands there, brow raised, as if he knows me. "Maybe not... never mind. But I'd stay away from him if I were you."

Sven? Who is this man? I glance at him, confusion swirling in my mind. He shrugs dismissively and continues, leaving me with more questions than answers.

Shaking off the encounter, I sprint after Ralof, who has nearly reached a woman standing near the edge of the village. As I draw closer, the resemblance is unmistakable; this must be Gerdur, his sister.

"Gerdur!" Ralof calls out, his voice booming with relief, and he rushes to her side. She turns, her eyes lighting up with joy, and in an instant, she wraps her arms around him, pulling him into a fierce embrace.

"Brother! Mara's mercy, it's good to see you!" Gerdur exclaims, holding him tightly. Her eyes scan his face for any signs of harm. She cups her hands around his chin and frowns, concern etching deeper lines on her brow. "But is it safe for you to be here? We heard that Ulfric had been captured..."

"Gerdur..." He gently pushes her hands away, a gesture meant to reassure her. "Gerdur, I'm fine. At least now I am."

Her scowl deepens as she begins to check him over for injuries, her hands moving to inspect his arms and shoulders. I linger a few paces away, unsure how to intrude on this heartfelt reunion.

"Are you hurt? What's happened?" she presses, her voice a mix of worry and relief. Then her gaze shifts, and she spots me standing there, my face flushing crimson under her scrutiny. "And who's this? One of your comrades?"

"Not a comrade yet, but a friend. I owe her my life, in fact." Ralof's words hang in the air, and my cheeks burn with embarrassment. He owes me his life? This man has a way of offering compliments like sweet rolls at the inn.

Ralof turns to me, offering a warm smile before his expression sobers again as he looks back at his sister. "Is there somewhere we can talk? There's no telling when the news from Helgen will reach the Imperials..."

Gerdur's brow furrows deeper, worry etching lines across her face. "Helgen? Has something happened...?" The tremor in her voice reveals the fear that grips her heart. Ralof shakes his head firmly, a silent reminder that this isn't the place for such discussions.

"You're right. Follow me," she replies, her voice steadying as she gestures for us to follow. She leads us away from the lumber mill, guiding us to a secluded area dotted with weathered stumps and remnants of felled trees. Ralof sinks onto one of the stumps, placing his hands over his head and sighing deeply, the weight of the world clearly pressing down upon him.

"Hod! Come here a minute. I need your help with something!" Ralof calls out, breaking the tense silence. A man working in the mill peeks over the edge, his blonde hair glinting in the sunlight—strikingly resembling Ralof and Gerdur. I wonder if he's family.

"What is it, woman? Sven drunk on the job again?" Hod chuckles, but the humor dies quickly, the tension hanging thick in the air.

"Hod. Just come here," Gerdur snaps, her impatience evident. The moment Hod sees Ralof, his eyes widen in surprise.

"Ralof! What are you doing here?" he exclaims, his voice filled with astonishment. "Ahh... I'll be right down!" He quickly stops the mill and rushes over to us, his brow furrowed with concern.

I position myself next to Ralof, still perched on the stump, when a little boy comes barreling toward us, his face a mask of excitement.

"Uncle Ralof! Can I see your axe? How many Imperials have you killed? Do you really know Ulfric Stormcloak?" His eyes sparkle with admiration, but I can see the shadow of worry lurking behind Ralof's smile.

"Hush, Frodnar. This is no time for your games," Gerdur scolds gently, though her voice carries an undercurrent of affection. "Go and watch the south road. Come find us if you see any Imperial soldiers coming."

"Aw, Mama, I want to stay and talk with Uncle Ralof!" Frodnar whines, his small face pleading, eager to hear more tales of valor and adventure.

"Look at you, almost a grown man! Won't be long before you'll be joining the fight yourself," Ralof responds, ruffling the boy's hair with a warm smile, though the concern still lingers in his eyes.

"That's right! Don't worry, Uncle Ralof, I won't let those soldiers sneak up on you!" Frodnar beams, filled with confidence, then dashes off to heed his mother's request, his small feet pounding against the ground.

"Ralof, what's going on? You both look like you've been through Oblivion and back." Gerdur's eyes narrowed as she scrutinized us, and I felt her gaze weigh heavily on my shoulders. It was more an interrogation than a casual inquiry.

Ralof sighed, rubbing his temples. "I can't remember the last time I slept... Where to begin? The rumors about Ulfric are true. The Imperials ambushed us near Darkwater Crossing. It was as if they knew our every move. That was... two days ago."

He turned to me, his expression grim. "We reached Helgen this morning, thinking our journey had ended. They lined us up at the headsman's block, ready to swing the axe."

I swallowed hard, recalling the grisly sight of the Stormcloak's severed head. The memory churned my stomach.

"Cowards!" Gerdur spat, her voice seething with contempt. I dared not meet her eyes.

Ralof continued, his voice filled with righteous fury. "They wouldn't grant Ulfric a fair trial. Charged with treason for defending Skyrim! If they had, all of Skyrim would have seen the truth."

He paused, his eyes distant as if reliving the terror. "But then... out of nowhere... a dragon descended upon us."

A tense silence enveloped the room. Gerdur looked from me to Ralof, disbelief etched on her face.

"A dragon? You mean a real, live..." she began.

"I can hardly believe it myself, and I was there," Ralof said, shaking his head. "As strange as it sounds, that dragon saved us. In the chaos, we managed to slip away. Are we truly the first to reach Riverwood?" He scanned the surroundings, eyes flickering with hope and worry for his comrades left behind.

Gerdur nodded, concern etched on her face. "No one else has come up the south road today, as far as I know."

"Good," Ralof sighed, relief mingled with guilt. "Maybe we can stay hidden for a while. I hate to put your family in danger, Gerdur, but..."

He hesitated, the weight of his request heavy. I felt a pang of guilt myself, intruding on such kindness, a stranger among friends.

"Nonsense," Gerdur insisted, her voice firm yet kind. "You and your friend are welcome to stay as long as you need. Let me worry about the Imperials." She turned to me, her eyes warm and sincere. "Any friend of Ralof's is a friend of mine. Here's a key to the house. Stay as long as you like. If there's anything else you need, just let me know."

Taking the key from her, I felt a rush of gratitude and emotion. Tears welled up, surprising me with their intensity. It seemed foolish to cry over such a gesture, but someone once offered kindness without expecting payment or favor.

"Novella, what's troubling you?" Ralof asked, concern etched in his voice. He stood beside me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder as my sobs grew louder.

"I—I—" I stammered, my body trembling. "This is too kind."

"Nonsense," Ralof replied firmly. "You saved my life. Gerdur will gladly care for us. You're practically family now. Anyone who can stand against both Imperials and a dragon earns my respect." He rubbed soothing circles on my back, helping me steady my breath.

"Thank you, truly. This is more than I ever deserve," I said, my voice filled with gratitude.

Gerdur raised an eyebrow but chose not to pry into my past. Instead, she spoke with determination. "There's something you could do for us, for all of Riverwood. The Jarl must be informed about the dragon. We're defenseless here... We need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun. If you do that for me, I'll be in your debt."

Go to Whiterun? Memories of Elysia and me visiting the quiet inn there surfaced. We'd pick a few pockets and move on unnoticed. The caravan outside often greeted us with hot meals. I hesitated, not eager to revisit those days. But this was different—now, they needed help.

The air buzzed with quiet tension as we gathered near the smoldering ruins of the last skirmish. I glanced at Ralof, whose eyes were fixed on his sister, Gerdur.

"I can do that," I said, nodding.

"Novella, we are ever so grateful for your help," Ralof replied, his hand lifting from my shoulder as he turned to Gerdur. "Thanks, sister. I knew we could count on you."

Gerdur's brow furrowed with concern, matching her brother's expression. "I ought to get back to work before I'm missed, but... did anyone else escape? Did Ulfric...?"

Ralof smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry. I'm sure he made it out. It'll take more than a dragon to stop Ulfric Stormcloak."

Hod interjected with a nod. "I'll let them into the house and, you know, show them where everything is..."

Gerdur crossed her arms, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Hmph. Help them drink up our mead, you mean. Good luck, brother. I'll see you later." She walked off toward her house, her resolve evident.

"Don't worry about me. I know how to lay low," Ralof called after her, chuckling softly.

My stomach growled loudly, a reminder of my own needs. I clutched it discreetly, thinking how long it had been since I'd eaten. The woods at the border seemed a distant memory. I hesitated, then turned to Ralof, who sat quietly on a stump.

"Ralof," I mumbled, "do you think it would be terrible of me to ask Gerdur for some food?"

He looked up, smiling warmly. "Of course not! We are more than happy to feed a hungry comrade. Go down the street, and you'll find my sister's house. She can feed you and give you a place to sleep for as long as you need."

His sincerity was a balm to my weary soul. "Thank you again, Novella. It was such an honor to meet you."

With that, I watched as Ralof wandered down the path and out of sight; my heart was a little lighter, knowing I had found allies in this land.