Ah yes, the sweetness of finishing a chapter that you struggled so heavily with. I'm very tired, so my excuses if there are many grammatical mistakes, my dyslexia tends to show its ugly head more, when I am tired. I do not own anything, except the oc's savvy?
zerodarkwolf: I hope this chapter will be satisfying for you dear.
Meggymoo12: Oh my goodness thank you! I'll try to keep it interesting for you then c:
TW: BLOOD AND GORE AND VIOLENCE. ECSTATIC PHYSICAL LABOUR YES!
"Vengeance is like an open wound. You cannot take that level of emotion into the drift." - Marshal, Pacific Rim
"Our Hero, our Hero, claims our warriors hearts
I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes
With a Voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art
Believe, believe, the Dragonborn comes.''
The group was greeted with a lore, dark and promising. It haunted their very ears. The Woman's voice was deep, tainted by the song itself.
"It's an end to the evil of all Skyrim's foes
Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes
For the darkness has passed, and the legend yet grows
You'll know, you'll know, the Dragonborn's come."
The voice echoed through the large space, faces illuminated by the large square fire pit in the middle. The dining table partly surrounding it. The smell of roasted meat, making a way through their noise. Their brains signalling the lots their stomach to growl.
"Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin
Naal ok zin los vahriin
Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal"
Maevred started to softly sing along with the woman singing.
The soft murmur only be heard by the people standing near her, and of course the red-headed woman, who turned around with a confused look on her face. When laying eyes on her little wolf she smiled with relief, but remembering that she was quite angry with the werewolf her face changed into a grimace of mixed emotions.
"Ahrk fin norok paal graan
Fod nust hon zindro zaan
Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal."
The woman finished with a growl, nearing the group and stopping in front of the white haired girl.
'Where have you been?!' the woman asked with a sneer. 'And you better not be lying to me.'
'Aela…' the girl whined, putting up a puppy face. 'I needed to hunt. I felt restless.'
Aela nodded, not entirely happy with the explanation, even though the girl seemed like an open book, she had many unwritten things about her, which annoyed but intrigued the huntress to the end. She looked at the band of wizards and witches, giving them an unreadable look.
'Mae, would you be so kind to tell me who these people are?' The red-headed woman asked.
The woman, called Aela is well, very intimidating. If not the three green stripes painted on her face, it would be her eyes. Scanning them like a hawk would do at a prey on the ground, the woman eyes soften, seeing they all looked like ghosts in a world they did not belong too.
'Ah well, you're all welcome, please take a seat, you all look like you could use some food.' Aela waved her hand towards the table. 'And you're going to change, immediately!' she plunged a long finger in Maevred her chest. Rolling her eyes at this, the young woman turned around, while whispering, probably obscenities in a unknown language.
'Why. Are. You. Wearing. My. Dress?' a woman hissed, who was seated at the table. 'And why is it covered in blood?!'
The outburst made the werewolf stop in her tracks, near the staircase which leaded to the dungeon rooms.
'I would hold your tongue, Ria.' The innocent looking girl hissed. 'before I remember you where that piece of muscle has travelled.'
This making the older woman open and close her mouth, much like a fish. The werewolf descendent the stairs and all but throw the door close.
'Well do not fuck with her.' Hermione said, her wide eyes glancing at the door hiding behind the little wall.
''Mione!' Mrs. Weasley and Pr. Mcgonagall yelled, giving the muggleborn a disbelieving look.
A for goodness sake Hermione thought, like they never say such a thing. That goodie two shoes status of mine can be bloody irritating at times. They seated themselves at the large table, occupied with food much like Hogwarts.
'Yes, better not do that. Njada knows the end of her wraith perfectly' pointing at a woman who was sitting at the far end of the table, a man appeared, from what probably would be the kitchen and said drunkenly. 'The name is Skjor.'
'Skjor, if you drank all the mead, I'll deliver you to the Silver Hand personally ' An irritated Aela mumbled.
'Ha ha. Reddie, very funny you're yet again.' Skjor snorted and walked back to the chair he occupied moments ago. 'Like those idiots will try to kill some of us again, after the stunt the dragonborn pulled.'
The woman, with the name Njada snorted with distain. 'Like she would help us again. Tsk. The woman is as dumb as a mudcrab.'
'She is the Harbinger, She needs to come back at some point.' A man who looked very similar to Farkas stated. 'I trust Kodlak with my very soul, and he choose her.'
'Even Kodlaks judgment could be at a wrong end, dear Vilkas' Ria answered. 'but like you said, I like her, she will be good for us. And they say she will end the war…'
'Oh yes, a woman dressed in yellow said something about a war' Harry told them. 'May I ask what the war is about?'
'Of course young lad!' Skjor burst out. 'It's a war between the Stormcloaks and Emperials, but the city of Whiterun remains natural, so do not be worried too much.'
'What Skjor is babbling about is that there are two different legions fighting over Skyrim, the Stormcloaks who want to keep Skyrim as it is.' Aela explained them with a kind smile. 'And the Emperials, who like to claim Skyrim, and use their ways.'
'But of course we have a fight here and then, we live for the fight!' Skjor raised his mug with, probably ale, spilling the drink over Ria, who in turn hit him on the back of his head.
While the rest of them bickered, Lotte got distracted by noises from the outside, shuffling feet could be heard.
'Sir, do you hear that?' Lotte asked, getting the attention from Vilkas.
'Yes I do little one' he answered, picking her up fast, surprising the others. Running towards a elks head, hanging against the wall and pushing the little girl on it, who climbed on it and held on to the antlers. 'Go downstairs, where Mae did just go!' he yelled at the group of witches and wizards. But it was too late, a group of men and women stormed into Jorrvaskr, weapons drawn.
'RIA AND ATHIS, protect our guests!' Aela yelled towards the woman and the green skinned man.
Drawing two long daggers, Aela trashed into one of the intruders, cutting his face. Making a sickening impact on his skull, the man died instantly, making the splintered skull bleed on the flour, brains slightly showing through the scraped flesh. Turning around, in one swift movement she drove her right dagger into the spleen of a woman, who tried to attack her from behind, twisting her hand. The woman cried out in pain, making the red-head smile from ear to ear.
Lifting her right foot and putting the limp against her attacker their stomach, she pulled the dagger out, twisting it again. Using her foot to push the woman into the large fire pit. This making the woman shriek in pain, making the shell shocked group flinch in horror.
Vilkas using his two-handed sword, chopping someone's head off, and making a fatal cut into the shoulder of the intruder standing next to the now headless man. Vilkas looking proud at his handiwork, he did not notice a woman sneaking behind a pillar. The sun-kissed woman saw her chance and shot an arrow in Vilkas spine. Through his heart.
Before the woman even could cheer in joy, an almost invisible arrow penetrated her head, killing her instantly. On one of the wooden beams stood a fur cladded figure, with a purple glowing bow in their hands.
Shooting two other attackers through the head with precision, the figure waved their hand causing the see through bow to disappear. Jumping from the beam onto a man who was trying to attack Skjor from behind, who was fighting against a man, laughing from joy. Dropping on the man's shoulders, much like a little child would do with his/her father, the figure grabbed the man his head, breaking his neck with one swift movement.
Letting the man drop forward on his face, the figure looked around. Noticing that the group of guests were not harmed, shocked, but not harmed. Noticing a movement behind their self, the person cladded in fur turned around, casting an enormous fireball into the man who was trying to attack them. The fireball made the man completely vanish in ashes.
Looking around, the figure saw that only Skjor was still fighting. Bodies scattered everywhere.
Noticing one of the guest, Minerva holding a shallow breathing Vilkas in her arms, the figure ran towards her. Dropping on their knees, taking the furry headgear that only showed their eyes, the familiar white hair came in view.
'Vilkas, please stay' Maevred whispered, the man in question smiling tiredly at her.
'I wish I had my magic, I could have healed him' said Narcissa, putting a hand on their personal saviour their shoulder.
'Magicka?' the slowly dying man whispered with wide eyes. The man looked at the teary-eyed little wolf. 'They've m-magicka like you, little one?'
'Yes, they do, but they do not have it here, only in their world' the now so much younger looking girl sobbed. 'The power of their 'magic' made them come here.'
The man's lips formed an o, coughing blood from his mouth. Closing his eyes, taking a deep, shallow breath. 'Help them, get h-home.' He said, finishing with a cough. The man lay completely still after that.
Sobbing hysterically, the white haired girl clutched her stomach. Everyone in the big building looked silently at the two, letting the girl mourn. Only Aela knew why she was crying.
Every time she did this, she lost a piece of her soul. No one noticed, but she did. Darkness slowly creeping through her veins. Every time she did it.
Abruptly the sobbing stopped. Lifting her tear stained face, she looked at Aela, who nodded. Her blue red-rimmed eyes, scanning through the crowd landing on the blonde witch who still had her hand on her shoulder.
Placing her hand on Vilkas un-beating heart, she started to murmur. Making some of them, even the companions look at Aela confused.
'Forgive me, goddess.' Maevred said. 'because I am about to do the unforgivable, take what is needed, from the very soul who is stating these words.'
Skjor, quickly sobering up at these words, tried to run towards the girl but was blocked by the red-head.
'Bo Bolog Bron Dein Diz Diil' the girl said, finally opening her eyes. But the group suddenly wished that she closed them again. They were Black, no more white or that gorgeous blue. Dark shadows crawling over the floor toward the werewolf, who was chanting the same words over and over again.
'She speaks dragontongue all of the sudden?' Njada, who was cleaning her sword, not noticing what was creeping under her feet and happening almost in front of her.
'Dead is not the end my friend, oblivion is.' Mae yelled, with a voice that was not hers.
The shadows, who were sidling around them, lifted their heads in interest. Now seeing the shadows better, Bellatrix noted that they are human shaped. They look just like dementor's. Cowering in sudden fear, the woman backed away. Her sister and Hermione noticing this. Narcissa wanted to comfort her big sister, but still had her hand on white-haired girl and could not move.
Hermione who now was standing next to the frightened witch, moved her hand next to Bella's slightly bigger one, holding it open in an inviting way. In not more than second the hand was grabbed by the older witch, still looking at the ground, head bent forward.
Rubbing her thumb over the surprisingly soft flesh of the sadistic witch, she tried to sedate her. Whispering little nothings towards her.
If someone ever would have asked Hermione Granger, if she ever would've ever thought to be friendly, even comforting towards her torturer, she would've flicked that person straight on the nose. Even though being a witch she liked to have at least some physical labour.
But because the circumstances were well, quite unusual she let it slip. She too was afraid.
The gigantic room was freezing, Hermione saw most of the people surrounding her shivering. She always expected a mortuary to be like this. The smell of dead and a lone feeling. It was a dark feeling she could not place. God she should stop watching those crime shows, but she could relate to some of these women, so she thought better of it.
'Guess I need my own Rizzoli then.' She murmured under her breath only for her to hear. But of course the razor sharp hearing of one Potter caught the words leaving her mouth. Giving her a snort and a raised eyebrow in return, he looked back at the werewolf, who was now lying on the floor, shaking and moaning in pain.
Narcissa who was standing next to the young woman, was pulled back by the youngest Malfoy. The look of fear in his eyes gave her an empty feeling. He nodded his head towards the girl, who still held onto the arm of the dead man, in the middle of the room. The blonde witch could now see why he pulled her away.
The dementor like creatures were crawling into the young girl. Horrible sounds could be heard. Every time one of the creatures merged into the body of the now so little looking girl, a stomach turning rip could be heard. Noticing that is was the young woman's skin ripping open, almost in an inviting manner, letting the terrifying creatures enter her.
It healed fast, probably because of her werewolf blood. The room though, was getting its warm feeling back.
Looking around them, they saw that the shadows disappeared, even the death bodies of those who attacked Jorrvaskr. The only dead that remained was Vilkas, with an almost equally looking dead Maevred laid next to him.
Skjor was the first to move. Shouting curses at the sky and Aela.
'Why did you not stop her!' the man shouted in rage, his face getting red with anger. 'And why did she do it, she know in her right mind that at some point she will not survive this curse when acted on it!'
'SKJOR!' the entrance door burst open, revealing Farkas and a tall, stern looking woman. Farkas seeing the body of his twin brother, ran towards him. Dropping one his knees next to the two humans.
'No, not now.' Farkas said, holding onto his brother's hand. 'Not now when we are both cured.'
'What in oblivion are you babbling about, brother?' a soft hoarse voice could be heard.
Squeezing his brothers hand, Vilkas sat up, like nothing happened.
'I am cured just like you.' Farkas said with wonder. 'But you were not breathing, you were dead just seconds ago.'
'I was, wasn't I?' the other twin asked with confusion. Looking around himself he saw that Aela and the tall dark woman, Akhan also known as Dovahkiin, were holding little wolf in their arms. And a bunch of surprised people, gapping at him. 'Maevred!'
Vilkas crawled towards the young girl. Lifting her up out of the two women their hand, he walked unsteadily towards a cushion cover bench near them. He laid her down with care, stroking her cheek.
'What did she do?' a small soft and sorrow filled voice asked from behind them. Looking up the saw little Lotte, still sitting on the elks head on the wall.
Farkas lifted her off the beast its head.
'Are you alright, little snowflake?' he asked the child with a worried expression. A child this young should not have seen such things, even though he did not know what happened, his imagination was big enough to have an image.
'I am alright, sir.' Lotte replied with a cute little smile. 'It was not as worse as what happened with mummy and daddy.'
'What has happened then, child?' Minerva asked shakily, still not calmed down from what she just saw.
She took the child with a kind smile, directed to the man and child. This eased the ex-werewolf enough to walk back to his twin brother and his adoptive daughter.
'Daddy was crushed by a large piece of stone, mummy tried to save him. But the big spider got her.' The girl sobbed. 'I should have listened to them. I wished I stayed with my big sister.'
'Who is your sister dearest?' Molly asked.
'Marijke Reiss.' The girl sobbed it out. Clutching her little hands at McGonagall collar.
Minerva nodded. Marijke was 17, short blonde hair and big brown eyes, much like the little Reiss she was holding now. A Slytherin, which explained the scarf. She adored Marijke, she was nice and caring. She was different like some of the other snakes were. She liked to help everyone, even her lion cubs. Sometimes she wished she had the girl in her house.
When Minerva was about to asked more, commotion near the bench caught her attention.
'Maevred, let him go.' Aela shouted. Prying the squeezing finger from Vilkas throat. 'Stop it, this is madness!'
'You did not stop her.' Skjor grunted, while pulling at the strong girl, who was squeezing the air out of Vilkas. Finely getting her lose, he threw her against the near wall, hard.
Full black eyes snapped up, growling through her gritted teeth.
'You're stupid fools, you should've stopped her.' Maevred spoke, in a mocking way. It was her voice, but the tone of her speech made it clear she was not herself. 'How many times have you let her do this mmh-, how many times have you used her for your own gain?'
'You're imbeciles, Companions.' The white haired girl yelled. 'You'll lose her someday, and when that day happens, you'll know why you should've cherished her.' The demon/girl yelled, cackling a bone chilling laugh, that rivalled Bellatrix own.
Suddenly Maevred dropped on her knees, blood that was already gushing out of her nose trailed over her pale chin, towards her collarbones. Black eyes, turning in blue. She stared into nothingness. Taking a deep breath to feed her burning lungs, She fell forward, swimming in the sweet oblivion of her dreams.
hope you liked it!
