Chapter Twenty-one- Harbinger
The next day dawned clear and bitterly cold. Tall, white clouds lurked on the horizon to the north, threatening snow. Aela, the twins, and Laurelin were traveling together to Ysgramor's tomb, far to the north, off the coast near Winterhold.
They all stopped briefly at Breezehome on their way to the gates to pick up Laure's pack and Wuuthrad. Farkas had thoughtfully spent yesterday crafting a special harness so she could carry it more easily.
"I had to guess on the measurements, but I think I did pretty good." His bright eyes skimmed over Laure, then to his boots.
"You did more than good. It fits perfectly." She softly kissed his stubbly cheek, "Thank you!" It was still a cumbersome thing to have an axe banging about back there, but at least she didn't have to carry it in her arms and the wickedly sharp blades where covered.
The four of them turned as one and loped out the gates, saluted by the guards, "Hail, Companions!"
The journey was swift, cutting east along the Pale, then heading north toward Windhelm, then west and north through the mountains. The trip was thankfully free of chance encounters with bandit camps, trolls, or dragons. When they blew past Windhelm, Farkas wanted to know why they weren't staying at the Candlehearth Inn.
Laure scowled and picked up the pace. She didn't much care for Windhelm, nor it's Jarl. It still burned her, the way he had forced her to run through a nightmarish inferno-complete with falling chunks of fiery debris and dragon-with her hands bound. All the remaining Stormcloaks had been released. Ulfric had declined releasing her though, even if it meant she had to leap from a burning tower into a broken building twenty feet below and hope she didn't need her hands to break her fall.
They took rooms in Winterhold instead, stamping the snow off their boots, shaking it out of their hair. The inn was a modest affair but clean and well kept. Laure paid for the rooms, hot meals and baths, then bought the rest of the supplies she wanted, oil-cloth sacks, rope, a small sled, lengths of catgut, and all the travel rations the innkeeper had. After dinner, she made a short foray into the forest, coming back later with several split saplings, stripped of branches.
The four Companions sat near the fire in the common room, drinking mulled wine while Laurelin began deftly crafting several pairs of snow-shoes from the saplings and catgut.
"What sort of trick are those?" asked Farkas as the first pair came together.
"The kind that saves your life, Icebrain." Aela interjected before the Bosmer could reply. "Those little shoes distribute your weight over a wider area, allowing you to walk over snow and ice. The little sticks give extra balance and let you poke ahead for holes you might fall into."
"Oh, okay then." he shrugged, a nonplussed look on his scruffy face.
The next day found them shuffling slowly across the ice floes. Laurelin had made them all strip their armor off and put it in the oiled sacks, then they disrobed further to rub a spicy-smelling unguent over their whole bodies, even into their scalps.
"You're helping me to wash this mess out, sister." Aela grumbled as she worked it into her long, red hair.
"My pleasure, sister." Laure winked.
"Can I watch?" chuckled Farkas.
"NO!" cried the two shield-sisters in unison.
"Sorry, had to ask!" he rumbled with a wicked grin on his handsome face.
They finished rubbing in the warm, slick goo and realized it seemed to be insulating them from the worst of the bitter cold on their bare limbs. Thus, wearing a few furs for modesty's sake and their snow-shoes, they forged ahead, Farkas trailing behind, dragging the sled that carried their gear. Roped together for safety, the four of them crept carefully over the shifting, tilting ice.
The precautions proved to be the lifesaving ones they were hoped to be. As Aela scrambled over a particularly unstable block of ice, it tipped suddenly, spilling her over the side before she could react. Icy water swallowed her up, her cry of terror cut short. Vilkas, tied to the line a few yards ahead, barely held on, cursing as he was jerked backwards. Behind her, Farkas seized the rope and furiously hoisted it hand-over-hand, while up front, Laurelin frantically secured their line with an iron spike
Blue and shivering, Aela was lifted up, spitting salt water, her clear eyes wide with horror. The twins muscled her up next to Laure. "Vilkas, help me get the wet furs off. Farkas, get some dry ones; we need to dry her off, wrap her good and trust the goop. You Nords are sturdy..." She popped open a bottle and stuffed it into Aela's shaking hand. "Drink up, a little resist cold fortified with mead. Drink up," she repeated as Aela hesitated, then relented, draining it slowly through chattering teeth. They finally got her warmed up enough to move, and they were able to make it over the last stretch without further incident.
They stepped onto the frozen shingle with relief and gathered a pile of driftwood but couldn't get it to light. Finally, Laure grimaced and made everyone stand behind her. She summoned the power of the Thu'um, shouting out, "Yol!" A great roiling gout of fire erupted out of her, lighting the scraps piled before her.
Vilkas leaned over to his twin, brow lifted, a smirk on his face. "Shouts fire, brother."
Farkas grinned, "You're the one who gets to keep her happy, brother. Don't fuck up."
Laurelin and Aela exchanged a glance, Laure finally commenting, "Hardly what the Greybeards intended me to use my Voice for."
Huddling as close to the fire as she could, Aela quipped, "But it gets the job done!" her teeth still chattering. They warmed themselves and rested while they ate, excited to be here.
Vilkas had always wanted to make a pilgrimage here, and he wished he had made this one in a more worthy frame of mind. However, it still plagued him to know he had succumbed to the blood, in every way he could, going on a killing rampage, changing for the first time after denying it so long, allowing himself to claim Laurelin as his mate.
A part of him knew he could rationalize some of it. Laurelin had needed someone experienced nearby to help keep an eye out and make sure she didn't rampage or lose herself. However, the other part of him whispered, I didn't have to take her. I could have taken Aela, or Athis or dragged Farkas out with me. It didn't need to be her. A part of me wanted a chance to be near her again. Tricked by his wolf or simply acting on what his heart was compelling him to do, he hadn't been thinking clearly when he rushed out of Jorrvaskr with her after Kodlak's death, nor had he been doing what was best for the Companions. Just because things seemed to be working out well with her didn't mean his actions were right. He had simply been lucky; he understood this now. They could have returned to the mead hall to find it torn apart, rudderless, in a storm of conflict. Leaving in a rage had been a mistake; he acknowledged this now.
While he declined to go further than the initial chamber, he was more than willing to offer what advice he could in regard to what they would face inside, most specifically the specters of Ysgramor's greatest champions waiting to test their worthiness to pass. "I think I will stay here, my heart is heavy with grief. I acted foolishly after the old man's death, let rage get the better of my reason. I don't wish to carry my dishonor into this place. I can't bear to face my predecessors with such actions so fresh in my mind." He regarded the others earnestly. "You three go ahead; I'll wait here. Be wary of the guardians. These are the ghosts of Ysgramor's original Companions, and they will want to test your worthiness before they allow you to proceed."
Laurelin slipped into his arms, quietly saying, "Dear one, you have nothing to be ashamed of. One moment of rage does not wash out a lifetime of service and loyalty. The Companions are warriors. I think they of all people would understand the rage and sorrow that comes with losing someone you love. I hardly think they would fault you for seeking retribution for your Harbinger. Come with us; prove you are worthy to them."
Vilkas kissed her forehead, "You are sweet, but I think I would prefer to stay. I will find another way to prove myself worthy, but for now, I feel I must pass." She nodded sadly and pulled away.
When Laure slipped Wuuthrad off her back, he nodded in encouragement. He watched with pride as she carefully slid the long handle into the towering statues hands, which seemed to clasp about the haft as it clicked into place.
The quiet rumble of ancient stonework revealed a passage that led into the tomb itself. Vilkas kissed Laurelin, whispering, "May the Gods watch over your battles, love. I'll wait for you here."
She kissed him back, hanging onto his lip a moment with her sharp teeth, before releasing him. "I'll see you soon, lover." She turned to catch up with Farkas and Aela, who had already eagerly plunged through the door. Vilkas watched them go, regretting not feeling up to the task, regretting his own actions to a degree. Not going in seemed a fitting penance, or a start to one. Instead, he watched his Bosmer lover disappear, a witch head in the sack over her shoulder, until she was out of sight. He then spent several hours meditating until Farkas rejoined him.
Vilkas quirked his dark eyebrows up in question, to which Farkas responded, "Spiders. The really big kind. Want some company?" Vilkas scooted over and made room next to the pillar he leaned on, and they talked quietly of the things Farkas had encountered within.
"What is it like inside? Did you encounter any of the guardians?" Vilkas asked his brother.
"Dusty, dark. I wasn't paying much attention, too busy fighting off blue ghosts. I think you'd like it though, lots of old carvings." The big man shrugged his heavy shoulders. "We didn't get too far in before I turned around, though."
"Sounds interesting. Maybe we can come back another time and explore it together."
"I don't fancy coming back over the ice again, Vilkas..."
Several hours later, another shift of stone announced the opening of another door. Two weary, smiling shield-sisters emerged from the hidden passage, leaning on each other but intact. Laurelin was carrying a huge, round shield, which she carefully set at the feet of the statue before lying limply on the floor. One look at the triumph shining in their eyes told the tale, though-Kodlak was freed of the curse of the blood and now his spirit could travel to Sovngarde. Vilkas and Farkas were quietly elated. There was a cure! Suddenly, the twins understood that they were allowed to hope for the afterlife they wanted for themselves, not the one they had been duped into.
Thus, it was with preoccupied minds they initially heard Aela and Laurelin saying they had seen Kodlak and in fact talked to him. Slowly dragging their giddy-seeming thoughts from the cure to what was being said, they understood. Kodlak intended Laurelin to succeed him as Harbinger.
Vilkas felt as though he had been thrown in front of a stampeding mammoth. Everyone knew the old man had been currying him to be the next Harbinger for years. What had changed Kodlak's mind? He had to know that the Dragonborn could not always be counted on to be in Jorrvaskr. Granted it wasn't required that the Harbinger stay in the mead hall. Far from it. No it was more the small detail that Kodlak had never really hinted he wanted Laurelin in his position when he passed. What was the old man hiding? He supposed he wouldn't find out this side of the afterlife, so he tried not to stew. The old man usually had damned good reasons for what he did, even if those weren't clear at first.
Laurelin certainly had the potential to be a great Harbinger, and Vilkas would be delighted to assist her in any way she needed. The Bosmer in question was still sprawled on the floor, breathing slowly, eyes closed in exhaustion. Vilkas took a waterskin and some dried meat to her, which she gratefully accepted. Leaning on him, she sipped her water, thoughts still far away. Vilkas was content to let her have some peace, but he did wrap his solid arms around her and squeeze.
She was tired, he could tell, but she also smiled; slaying Kodlak's wolf spirit, fighting their way through the ranks of champions of old, it seemed to have brought her a bit of peace. If one could ignore the burden—no, the honor-that had been laid across her shoulders.
The four of them stayed a few more days, exploring the tomb, resting, drinking in the essence of old glory that seeped into the very stonework. Laure and Vilkas found an old trail twisting up the steep hillside of the island and followed it. While they were still scrambling up, Laure heard a by now familiar chanting coming from somewhere nearby.
"Do you hear that, love? I think it's coming from up there! She bounded up the last stretch to skid to a halt before the chanting word wall. Vilkas, only a moment behind, came up and stared in awe as the glowing runes scribed into the stone flared and seemed to flow across the space between and into Laurelin, then faded away.
She was shaking from the energy, but she was whole and seemed well, so he didn't interfere. When she shook her head and smiled at him, he knew he had nothing to worry about. At least not up here.
They had a fine view of the coastline from up here; the College of Winterhold was looming on the bluffs nearby. Laure leaned her head on Vilkas' shoulder, still gazing across the bay. "Are you upset Kodlak made me the new Harbinger? I had no idea he was going to choose me."
He was quiet for a moment, then in a thoughtful tone of voice, tried to explain," I'm not upset with you, love. I know you did not ask for the position. Aye, I was surprised when you told me, yet now I feel it confirms what I believe. My actions proved I am unworthy of the title of Harbinger; Kodlak knew what he was doing."
"I disagree, Vilkas. An unworthy man would look at his actions and justify them to his last breath. He would never admit to any fault, nor regret his actions later. You judge yourself more harshly than you should."
"Perhaps." Laurelin couldn't see his full face, but she could see the corner of his mouth tugged into a thoughtful frown. They stayed a while, arm in arm, letting the cold wind wash the smell of the sea and ice over them, until they grew hungry; then they meandered back down the hill to rejoin Aela and Farkas. Tomorrow they were leaving; with their hearts easier and full of hope, they would finally turn their steps back toward home. Jorrvaskr and the rest of the Companions waited.
Laurelin smiled sadly as she read Kodlak's journal. Again. They had been back in Whiterun for a week now, slowly things were beginning to resume the appearance of normalcy. When she got back to town, she had put off going through the old man's effects until she remembered his journal. Hoping to gain some insights from it, she finally cracked it open and read it. Apparently, Kodlak had quietly fostered the hope that she might be the next Harbinger due to some dreams he'd had of late. Privately, Laurelin wished he'd had a longer life and had left her more time to deal with all of her other affairs. As it was, she was increasingly aware of how long she had been away from the Guild. She knew that soon she would need to return to Riften. Bryn. She sighed again.
"It's an honor he has set before you, not just a burden, or a bloody job," muttered Vilkas in her ear as he sat down next to her out on on the porch. He had been very supportive and helpful during her first week as Harbinger, chewed out Athis when the Dunmer had loudly expressed his disbelief that Kodlak would select a newcomer to fill his position, helped her sort out the paper work, bills, and contracts needing to be fulfilled. If he had any lingering doubts, he kept them to himself, opting to help her and thus the Companions in every way he could. While she was new to her role, she had experience with business and picked up the finer details rapidly. Once he let go of his disappointment, he acknowledged she would be a fine Harbinger.
She grinned at him. "It feels like everyone in Tamriel wants a piece. Or a piece of something fetched. Or a dragon slain..."
"Bandits. Don't forget the bandits."
"Certainly not. Speaking of fetching, I still need to go raid another tomb to find the horn of Jurgen Windcaller and take that Beacon somewhere. Care to join me, love?"
"I thought you would never ask!" A wide smile softened the hard planes of his face.
"Excellent. Beacon first, I'd say, then the Horn. I'd like to be as uninvolved with the daedra as possible!" Then Riften she decided.
So ends the first story of Laurelin Vo'Shai. Her tale will continue in the next installment, coming soon. I have to say, when I first started writing again, I thought I would be able to get away with writing a handful of short chapters, and that would be it. Boy was I WRONG! This story is changing and developing in ways I never imagined. If you have read this far, THANK YOU! I hope with all my heart you will continue traveling Skyrim with Laurelin, Vilkas, Farkas, and all the others. Fin~
For now...