This story was requested by the lovely AudaciousAuthoress, and I had so much fun writing it! It was funny and an all-around enjoyable experience! Thanks for the idea, love! Hope you all enjoy!

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21st of First Seed, 4E 208

Once again, I drove my blade into a Draugr's decaying belly, coughing as dust flew from the crumbling skin. I hated these things with every fiber of my being.

On either side of me, Farkas and Vilkas worked at cutting down the rest of the undead, Vilkas lopping the head off one and Farkas cutting another in half.

"Right," said Vilkas as he kicked the severed head aside, "moving on, then?"

I nodded, sheathing my sword. "Ysolda isn't going to save herself."

As soon as the missive explaining what had happened to the new owner of the Bannered Mare had come to us, the twins and I had set out to rescue her. It had happened sometime in the night. Ysolda had been wandering around the stables, and as far as the witnesses could tell, a few bandits had come up the road and grabbed her. Killed two guards as they were escaping. They had dragged poor Ysolda to Dustman's Cairn, which I found it a little disturbing to be coming back. It had been over four years since I had seen Farkas turn into a werewolf, since I found out about the Companions' secret. But that did not stop me from shivering at the thought of returning to such a place.

"This place, it's ancient," commented Vilkas as we pressed deeper into the cairn. "The Nordic architecture is incredible!"

I raised one eyebrow and directed my gaze to him. "Honey, what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about how our ancestors built their tombs to last. It's amazing that their final resting places have lasted so long. They've seen the dragons rise and fall and rise again, seen an Empire be formed, seen—"

"Stop it with your book-smart talk and come help me!" called Farkas from ahead.

We rushed to his aid, finding him surrounded by Draugr. We dove straight into the fray, blades flashing and clashing, faces twisted into determined snarls. The Draugr returned our snarls with ones of their own, yellow teeth bared and glowing eyes half-lidded with anger.

I stabbed one through the neck, then ducked as my husband took a swing at one next to me. I rolled out of the way as he ended its life—well, second life—, jumped to my feet, and helped Farkas take down the last one. It died with a muttered Dovahzhul curse.

"What did it say?" asked Farkas.

"Something along the lines of, 'Never ending curses,'" I explained. "It's a rough translation. Many words in our tongue don't exist in Dovahzhul."

"You know, if my book-smart brother hadn't been talking uselessly about tombs and ancestors, we would be heading home by now."

Vilkas glared at his twin. "At least I read instead of pound people into the ground for fun like you do, brother."

"Why read books when you can beat people over the head with them?"

"All right, boys, let's not do this now." I pressed a hand to each of their chest plates. "We have a job to do. Save it for later."

I stepped into the lead, while Farkas snickered at Vilkas and said, "My strength is better than your smarts. Especially for—"

The sound of a fist striking a face reverberated through the stony halls. I looked over my shoulder to see Farkas clutching his jaw, and Vilkas shaking out his hand.

"What was that about strength?" my husband quipped.

Farkas narrowed his eyes at Vilkas. "You hit like a milk-drinker."

"I didn't realize I brought two children with me," I called over my shoulder. I turned on my heel to see Vilkas shrugging and Farkas glaring at his twin.

"Ylva—"

I shot him down with a look. His shoulders slumped and he walked away from Farkas, towards me. "Sorry."

"Look, the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can all go home. I don't know about you, but I miss our children." I chuckled a little and kept heading deeper into the cairn. "Besides, I'm sure Tyra has about had it with all of them, anyway. Our twins, her daughter, and her unborn child that has not stopped giving her trouble since she passed the fifth-month mark."

"I miss them, too, Ylva. I'm sorry for my actions."

"You should be. I've seen Embla and Jergen act more mature than the two of you, and they're only three years old." I jerked my head back towards Farkas. "Let's go."

We passed through the room where I had first witnessed Farkas's beast blood. Around the floor littered various skeletons. Some in pieces, others intact. One's skull was crushed, another had its arms ripped off at the elbows. One was legless, having both thighbones shattered down the middle.

Vilkas looked around the chamber, taking in the "history" within the walls, while I knelt down amidst the pile of bones. Farkas knelt down beside me, murmured something under his breath. It sounded like a prayer.

"Brother?" I asked, raising a questioning brow.

"I don't regret what I did," he said in a low voice, "but I regret how I did it."

I laid a hand on his shoulder. "You were trying to keep us both alive. There's nothing wrong with what you did. You had no choice. The gods know that." I gave his shoulder a pat, then we both stood and looked to the next doorway. "Vilkas, let's go."

As we progressed deeper, we came across a few downed Draugr, having just recently been slaughtered. We must be getting close to the bandits. They had somehow managed to sneak past a few, but now were having trouble and being forced to fight.

"The Draugr..." Vilkas began as we sidestepped another dusty corpse, "they were ancient Nords who served the dragons. When the wars against the dragons ended, their Nord servants were punished for their crimes against their fellow man by being forced to never die. Unless they are killed, they will live on forever, in a state known as 'undeath.'"

I snorted. "Why am I not surprised that you know about all of this?"

"I... did a lot of reading. While Farkas and I both trained with weapons, I also took time to sharpen my mind with books."

I chuckled. "Did you know that I didn't know how to read until I was fifteen?"

Vilkas's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"I didn't need to know how to read as a girl. I needed to learn how to work with crops. I was not stupid; I was just illiterate." I smiled. "I haven't had much time to sit down and read for fun. I've been too busy trying to survive, and now I have twins to raise and a fighter's guild to oversee."

When we made it into the final room, we encountered the bandits who had taken Ysolda in the first place. They had her shoved into one of the empty burial stones, arms tied to her sides and wrists bound together in front of her. Her short, auburn hair was disheveled and caked with dirt. She had tears falling from her eyes, soaking into the gag around her mouth. The bandits were circled around her, laughing at her. One even jabbed her in the leg with his sword.

Those... pigs. My blood boiled just watching this. "Let her go!" I called in a strong voice. "Now!"

They all turned to us, the man appearing to be the leader laughing. He wore a shiny set of steel-plated armor. It was dented in places, but polished nonetheless. He had a glowing, blue-green glass blade hanging from his belt. He wore no helmet, so his ugly, scarred face was in full view.

"Oh, and who are you to stop me?" he cackled. "I've had dozens of girls, and I can have you, too."

Behind me, Vilkas snarled. I had feeling that he would be changing into a werewolf right now if he had not already been cleansed.

"No, you won't, and you won't have her, either."

Again, he laughed. "And why not?"

I steadied my feet, took in a deep breath, and released my Thu'um. "Fo, krah DIIN!"

The Redguard screamed as the frosty breath enveloped him. He cursed me and ordered his cronies to attack. Vilkas and Farkas charged forward to meet them in battle, while I ran straight towards the chief. I was going to finish him off myself.

The man got to his feet, covered in melting frost, as I reached him. His fingers and joints cracked with cold stiffness as he reached for his sword. I lunged forward and cut off his hand. He screamed again, and I slashed my blade along his knees. He fell, moaning in pain as I stood over him.

"You have taken your last prisoner, you pig." I raised my sword up. "Any last words before I send you to Oblivion?"

"Who are you?"

I rolled my eyes. Did he really ask that? "I am the Harbinger Dragonborn, Ylva Sky-Shatterer. The woman who ended your reign of terror."

I ended his life quickly. Even though he was disgusting, I was not going to make him suffer pain.

I turned away from his corpse and looked to see that the twins had finished off the others. They stood together in a pool of their foes' blood. They shared a quick nod, then Vilkas clapped Farkas on the shoulder.

I used my dagger to cut through Ysolda's bonds. Then I took the gag off her face and let her sit down. Farkas brought the small satchel full of various supplies over to me, and I took out a water skin. I held it to her, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You'll be all right, Ysolda. You're safe now."

With a grateful look on her tear-stained features, she drank her fill from the water skin. Blood trickled from the sores on her bare wrists, staining her blue work dress. The bloodstain on her skirt had grown, but thankfully not by much. The wound must be superficial. Easy to bandage.

"Thank you, Companions," she said as she handed me the half-empty water skin. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Ysolda." I slipped the sealed water skin back into the satchel, then grabbed a roll of clean bandages. I wrapped them around her wrists, then the wound just above her knee. With that done, I helped her stand, taking her arm over my shoulder for added support. "Ready to get home?"

She nodded. "Yes, yes, please."

The four of us set out at a gentle pace, heading for the quick exit out of the cairn. I was thankful that was was still open. It made getting back to Whiterun easier.

"You know, the ancient Nords designed these tunnels back to the surface as a quick escape should any tunnels collapse," said Vilkas as we stepped into the tunnel. "It also allowed a fresh supply of air into to crypt as they worked."

Farkas rolled his eyes. Ysolda smiled a little. I chuckled.

Vilkas looked at me, then Ysolda, then Farkas. "What?"

I smiled at my husband. "Nothing, honey. You're just putting us all to shame with your intelligence."

"He's not putting me to shame," said Farkas. "I'm glad my head isn't full of useless facts about dusty old crypts."

Vilkas sighed. "But at least I have something in my head, dear brother of mine."

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So I hope everyone likes this first requested story. Requests are still open, so if you have an idea, just speak up! I would love to write your request!

There were no questions asked in the last chapter, so there will not be any on this one. My hope is that there will be some soon, so I can add them to the next update I do!

Love and sweetrolls to you all!
~WG 💙