Summary: After arguing with her husband, Hadvar, the Dragonborn, Stalia, endures a horrible death while traveling alone to Solitude. Hadvar reflects on the times he'd spent with her.
A/N: Based on the song "Safe and Sound" by Taylor Swift. If you haven't heard it, look it up. This story is intended to be really sad (Or so I tried… Maybe playing the song on loop while reading will work best xD). Sorry if it's kinda sort. Thanks, anyways!
"I hate you, Hadvar."
The words repeated in his head over and over again. He stood over her grave, tears running down his cheeks, fists clenched tightly at his sides and shoulders slumped in defeat. Rain poured harshly over the valley, completely drenching his clothes, but he didn't seem to care. A crackle of thunder and a flash of lightning allowed anyone nearby to see the bleak and hopeless state he was in, but luckily no one had decided to stay at the Dragonborn's Burial Grounds that night.
She didn't hate him; he knew she didn't. They'd gone through too much together for that to be true. It had just been her emotions speaking for her; her annoyance. Hadvar should have never even brought up the topic of Farkas's death anyways.
Stalia and Farkas had been best friends ever since they met each other. She loved him like a brother; and he loved her like a sister. As she'd told Hadvar before, it had been a normal, chilly day for Skyrim, and she and Farkas were traveling to Riften to deal with a few merchants selling illegal and deadly potions. On their way there, they were ambushed by a group of elite assassins seeking the head of the Dragonborn. Spotting several archers hidden among the cliffs before them, Farkas jumped in front of Stalia and saved her from the arrows they'd shot. Luckily, she was able to fight off the rest of her attackers, but Farkas didn't make it. His passing changed Stalia extensively. From that moment onward, Stalia was quiet and did exactly what she was told to do. There was nothing Hadvar could do to break her out of her shell.
He didn't think that mentioning Farkas would affect her so powerfully, but it did. They'd fought for hours, insulting each other in the most ridiculous of manners, until Stalia uttered those four words; those four words that would change his life altogether.
"I hate you, Hadvar."
Instead of expressing his feelings with more yelling, Hadvar's expression had changed from rage to shock in half a second. His tense muscles relaxed, and his head tilted slightly with something between curiosity and bewilderment.
"At least I'm not dreading over someone who's been dead for over a year, Stalia." He hissed fiercely. Hadvar regretted what he'd said as soon as the words left his mouth. Shaking her head vigorously and gasping for closure, Stalia gathered her things quickly and left Breezehome, slamming the door shut behind her. She didn't care to look back to see if he had followed her. All she cared about was getting out of Whiterun, and as far away from Hadvar as possible.
It was exactly three days later that Hadvar learned of the news.
He had been sleeping when there came a light tapping at the door. Expecting it to be Stalia, begging for forgiveness, he hurried to answer. Instead of seeing his wife, he was greeted by the sad eyes of a courier. A wave of fear washed over Hadvar instantly.
"It's your wife, sir," The courier stammered nervously, grasping his hat in his hands. "S-She's been killed."
Hadvar's whole world; his whole existence stopped. Had he heard right? Maybe the courier had come to the wrong home. Yes! He'd probably mistaken his home for one of the houses closer to Dragonsreach. But, deep down inside, Hadvar understood everything. His body was beginning to shake; his head thrumming wildly. His bottom lip quivered violently and he pushed past the courier, destined to find his wife. She was probably just fine. Fine, fine, fine.
Nothing was fine, though.
Hadvar couldn't even recognize her own body. The sight of her, limp and lifeless, was enough to make him pass out. He could hardly stand realizing that she was basking in the glories of Sovngarde without him, but their last goodbyes had been those of hatred. How could he ever fall asleep at night with that guilt bearing down on him?
Hadvar remembered the day of their wedding. Talos, she'd been so beautiful. He'd never seen anything as gorgeous before in his entire life; her short blonde hair hidden behind a long white veil that covered her smooth, tan skin. He promised that day to always stand by her side and serve her no matter what became of their circumstances. They thought of living in Riverwood, since Hadvar's uncle, Alvor, lived there as well, but they agreed Whiterun was a good enough bet for them both. Stalia was normally away from home, anyways. She was the Dragonborn, though, so she had her rights to be.
At her funeral, Hadvar almost smirked when he recalled the time they'd spoken of having children. It was a happy time he'd cherish forever.
"I'm surprised you haven't asked for any children, Stalia," Hadvar murmured one night while warming his hands in front of their fire. Standing in the kitchen, she'd turned to him with widened eyes and jaw hanging open. "Close your mouth, darling, you may catch flies."
"I didn't think you wanted children." She replied after a moment of silence. She finished cooking and sat down in the chair beside him.
"I never said that," He said, smiling heartily, "I just said that we wouldn't have the time to raise them."
"Just imagine it, Hadvar," Stalia said, suddenly excited, leaning toward him. He took her hands into his and squeezed them softly, "Let's say, a little girl, our little girl. Wouldn't that be so special?"
He ran the image through his head a few times, and decided he'd do anything to have that little girl Stalia had dreamt about. They tried for months, but nothing seemed to work. Stalia became worried and visited a doctor while Hadvar was gone. When he returned to Breezehome, he found her, hysterical, in their bedroom. She told him everything as he held her. She couldn't have children. They'd never be able have a child of their own.
It was unbelievable how much pain she'd been put through.
After the funeral, as hundreds of Skyrim's people began to retreat back to their homes, Hadvar found himself paralyzed. He stared at the carved tomb she'd been encased in, and wondered if she was already holding that little baby girl in Sovngarde. A light drizzle began to fall, until clashes of thunder and lightning brought a much harsher rain to the land.
It was like someone had slapped him. Hadvar accepted everything then.
Dropping to his knees, he erupted into fitted shivers and became a sobbing mess, but he forced himself to smile, knowing Stalia was in a better place. She'd done her duty; she'd defeated Alduin. He'd just been there to guide her through everything; as her husband.
"What It meant to lose you," Hadvar whispered, swallowing hard, holding his helmet at his side, "No one will ever know."
Their experiences flushed through his mind, making him dizzy. He felt like vomiting. But four words, just four words, still echoed in his memory.
"I hate you, Hadvar."
A/N: Again, sorry if it's short _ Like it, review it!