This story was requested by my best friend, the very lovely Emerald_Parrish. I honestly love all these requests that take place in Ylva's early life, before she was a Companion. They're very fascinating, and I have had fun exploring Ylva's character further through these requests. As always, hope you enjoy!

-------

24th of Last Seed, 4E 201

"I can't believe it. You're... Dragonborn."

The words echoed in my head as I sat and waited for my audience with the Jarl. I slumped in my seat, left alone with just my thoughts to keep me company. My mind reeled as I tried to piece together what had happened after slaying that dragon alongside Irileth and her men.

The dragon's corpse started to burn, and the light from the fire rose up and flew straight at me. I tried to block the light, tried to escape it, but it slammed into me and began to consume me. I let out a cry as the heat overcame me. It burned through my entire being, setting my blood aflame. I feared for my life. Just when I thought my life would end in burning pain, a gust of wind kicked up and washed me in its cooling embrace. A feeling of strength swelled in my chest, and the fatigue from a hard-fought battle left me. Only for a second, though, because when the strength left me, I was doubly tired. I fell to my knees into a puddle of dragon blood, gasping and praying the pain would cease.

Afterwards, one of Irileth's men stepped forward and helped me to my feet. He was the one who first said it, the first one who called me "Dragonborn." He told me I was a hero, a living legend. My arrival had been foretold since the last Era, and my arrival couldn't have been more perfectly timed. Dragons coming back meant Skyrim needed a new kind of hero.

But how could I possibly be a hero? I was nothing but a no-good mercenary. I was no hero. I didn't want to be.

I shrugged his praises off and told him he was wrong. He refused to believe me. He told me to try something he called "Shouting." He said that was what the dragons did, and if I was truly Dragonborn, I could do it too. With some reluctance, I humored him.

I concentrated, took a deep breath, and said a word that I seemed to have known my whole life. "FUS!"

A blossom of deep blue light spewed from my lips, slamming into the man in front of me. The guard staggered backwards, smiling as he regained his footing. He nodded and said, "You are Dragonborn."

I shook my head and started to leave the scene. I needed to get away from the stares and ridiculous talk. As I ran along the path, it began to tremble. I pitched forward, regaining my balance somehow, and turned towards the sky. I watched, in total awe, as from the mountains came a brilliant light. The mountain itself seemed to shake with the rest of the world, and from its peak came this cry that anyone in Skyrim could've heard.

"DO-VAH-KIIN!"

Dovahkiin? What in the world does that mean?

After the shout faded into the air, the tremors ceased, and all went back to normal. I turned to see Irileth coming up the path behind me. She motioned for me to keep going. She said we had to tell the Jarl all about this.

Sitting to the side, I stared at my hands, at the dragon blood that still stained them, and let the events run through my head over and over, trying to make sense of them. The Jarl would need to know exactly what happened, and I had to make sense to him. But how was that at all possible? I couldn't even make sense to myself.

Was I truly the Dragonborn? Could something so fantastic actually exist? Could legend become reality so easily?

And what if it could? How come I was the one to be Dragonborn? What did being Dragonborn even mean? That I could absorb some sort of energy from dragon corpses? Energy that hurt me both inside and out? What if I didn't want this? What if I didn't accept the responsibility?

This just can't be happening to me. I'm not anyone special. I'm certainly not a hero.

My thoughts were interrupted by a soft, gray hand on my shoulder. I jerked up, seeing the face of Irileth only inches from mine.

"Ylva, it's time," she said, her strong voice low and gentle. "The Jarl requests your presence."

I sighed and stood up, pulling my sword belt straight. "I'm ready, I guess."

"Follow me, then."

With a deep breath, I fell into step behind Irileth, hands shaking and mind reeling. I still wasn't sure what I would tell the Jarl, but I trusted that I could make myself plain and that he would be smart enough to understand.

Here goes nothing, I guess.

-------

Requests are still open! I have had so much fun writing the stories you, my readers, have requested! I hope that you'll continue to request stories!

That's all for now! Love and sweetrolls!
~ WG 💙