My Ending

It was many days ago when I fought Alduin. It was a great relief to finally done it, but without the 3 heroes' help, I don't think I could have killed the big serpent. And it was emotionally, physically and spiritually draining to fight Alduin in of all places, Sovngarde.

When I got back to the real world, I had to spend 6 days with the Greybeards to recuperate. The first 2 days were especially unpleasant experience as I was too weak to even move around. News of my deed spread to every corner of Skyrim like wildfire, most likely from the delivery people that sent goods to the Greybeards.

Receiving an invitation to the Blue Palace in Solitude was an honour, though I've been there before during the Civil War. The journey from the top of the world to Solitude took me almost 3 days by wagon.

At the Blue Palace, I was given a newly-created title called High Thane of Skyrim for all my efforts in protecting the country, but I know in my heart that the title itself was nothing more than an empty shell. People will respect me, of course, for what I did and what I am, but if I were not Dragonborn, I won't be able to come this far and get this much respect. During this time however, I felt in my heart that there was something wrong. It was as if someone was suppose to be here, but was not. This was the first time I felt like this since I defeated Alduin.

After spending the next 4 days in Solitude for the grand celebrations, I finally head home to Whiterun. I reached my destination by early evening of the second day and the Jarl was kind enough to greet me himself just outside of the main gate together with his housecarl and a few Whiterun guards. He ushered me into Whiterun and it was still the same even after all those fighting during the Civil War. The people were, of course, busy rebuilding their homes and hopefully their lives too, but when they saw me, everyone called Dragonborn.

It felt nice that I was appreciated. I don't know why, but I never felt that way when I was in Solitude. There, I can feel the pretense of people trying to get close to me just to levitate their own status. Here in Whiterun however, both these people and I knew that all of us had worked hard and sacrifice a lot to get this far. I felt closer to the people of Whiterun than those in Solitude.

The Jarl had invited everyone to the appreciation ceremony at the centre of the city under the tree later that night, which I gladly accepted. As I reach Breezehome, I opened the door and went in.

The condition of the house was still the same. The Jarl had hired a cleaner to maintain the house, which I'm thankful for. I did my business in the toilet and took a shower. After nearly an hour, I finally sat down on my chair in my bedroom, with the windows open. With so many things happened in the last 8 months, seeing things slowly seemed to be relaxing, especially seeing the clouds.

I heard myself saying, "I'm home". That put a smile to my face. However, in a way, I felt the same emptiness that I felt in Solitude and I don't know why though.

I started my journey to the center of the city at around 7.30 in the evening, even though I know it was just a short distance and the ceremony starts at 8.00 pm. The tree had grown to be more beautiful than the last time I've seen it. It was a sight like no other and I can look at it for hours.

The Jarl and his entourage finally came down and had the ceremony officiated. During the Jarl's speech, I recalled the things that happened since I came to Skyrim. I was thankful actually that these people accepted me as part of their community. We toasted a lot that night in appreciation to those who sacrifice their lives and those who worked hard to protect their homes. I finally went back home after spending a few hours there.

"Lydia! Lydia!" I called out, but there was no answer. Annoyingly, I went to her room. She wasn't there at all, but her bed was cleaned, both her sword and shield were hanging on the wall beside her bed. There was a portrait of her on the table, together with 3 pink candles and a pot of single blue mountain flower.

Then I remembered. Lydia had died in my arms fighting in the Civil War. I recalled that she was slashed across her stomach. Her last words were to ask me if I was all right. Her face was serene when I replied that I was okay. She looked at me and smiled passionately before she moved on. I began to realize that the emptiness I had was because I had lost the person that was close to me.

That's why I wondered where Lydia was all this while. I had forgotten that she had died. I quickly went to my room and sat on my bed.

"I'm alone," I heard myself saying. I never had the luxury of time to cry for her or even be there for her burial at the Hall of the Dead. It became harder to breathe in every passing minute. The feelings of sadness and loneliness swelled in my chest. More importantly, I was angry at myself that I could even forget of her existence. I cried my soul to sleep.