"Lady Drethen, I must ask you to hold still," the soft voice called, in an almost motherly tone. "I know it hurts, my lady, but I need you to stay with me. We still need to remove this last arrow."
The voice belonged to Cerenya, the head physician of Drethen Manor. The elderly Altmer woman was by far the longest serving member of the manor staff, having been hired back in the Second Era by Lord Setheris Drethen, Alarys's father. When Lord Alarys was born, it was none other than she who administered his delivery, and she would come to do the same again for Velaryn and Serys, centuries later. Cerenya was an undisputed master of her craft, and she had grown to be greatly cherished by the Drethen household throughout her centuries of service, viewed virtually as family.
"Try to relax, my lady. Take a deep breath," Cerenya said calmly, her gentle voice just above a whisper. She laid a wrinkled hand on the Dunmer's brow, comfortingly stroking her hair.
Valarya Drethen lay naked on the bed, her body utterly drenched in sweat, her skin smeared in her blood, and her entire being tortured with unfathomable agony. A washbasin filled with blood-red water sat on the end table directly to her left, inside of which was one of the arrows that had pierced her, which Cerenya had removed only minutes ago. Valarya had nearly passed out from the excruciating pain as Cerenya carefully extracted the arrow, and the Altmer had just barely been able to keep her awake. Cerenya dared not leave Lady Drethen's side for even a single moment. If she were to fall unconscious, Cerenya knew for a certainty she would not wake again.
"Breathe, my lady. Nice and steady now," whispered Cerenya, brushing Valarya's cheek. Valarya met the old Altmer's soothing gaze, staring deeply into her aged, amber eyes. Grasping her hand for comfort, Valarya began to weep profusely, tears streaming from her eyes.
"Re…Resenna…" she just barely managed to speak, her voice a hoarse, strangled whisper. Cerenya tightened her grasp around Valarya's hand, now weeping herself.
"I'm so sorry, Lady Drethen," she consoled, stifling several sobs. "I did everything I could, my lady. Everything. I am so, so sorry."
The two women cried together for several moments, holding one another closely. Knowing time was of the absolute essence, Cerenya soon stood back up by the bedside, looking to the other physicians standing by vigilantly in the bedroom.
"Bring me my tools," the Altmer ordered firmly. "I'm going to need them to get out this last arrow." The arrow to which Cerenya referred was the one lodged in Valarya's chest, the one she had snapped by accident back in the cemetery. With the shaft of the arrow broken, it was now going to be substantially more difficult to extract. Cerenya was going to need to work quickly, she knew, but also carefully if she was to avoid making any catastrophic mistakes.
A long leather wrap was laid on the bed, Cerenya quickly opening it to reveal her medical equipment neatly organized within. She grabbed a pair of small steel pliers, hurriedly dousing them in a sterilizing agent. Donning a pair of gloves, Cerenya leaned in close to Valarya, the Dunmer's eyes widening in terror when she saw the surgical instrument in her hand, her breaths turning frantic.
"I'm sorry, my lady. This is going to hurt," said Cerenya, with no shortage of sympathy. Pliers in hand, Cerenya firmly gripped the arrow embedded in Valarya's chest, blood still spattering out from the wound. The Dunmer shut her eyes, bracing herself for the pain to come. "I suggest you take a deep breath, my lady." Cerenya gave the arrow a hard twist, before pulling on it with every ounce of strength she possessed.
The scream that came from Valarya could have deafened every ear inside the manor.
"My lady, please try and hold still!" pleaded Cerenya. Valarya gave the Altmer woman a forceful, almost violent shove, nearly sending her to the floor. Valarya then turned onto her side and screamed into the pillows. The raw, scorching pain that speared all throughout the Dunmer grew only more severe with every second, feeling as if she were impaled atop some massive spike. Cerenya quickly returned to the bedside, laying a gentle hand upon Valarya in an attempt to hopefully calm her down. Cerenya leaned in closer towards her, and that was when she suddenly spotted the puddle trickling onto the bedsheets as Valarya began to urinate.
"Grab me a towel!" the Altmer ordered. A fresh towel was speedily brought within seconds, and Cerenya quickly laid it underneath Valarya, folding a portion of it in between her legs to contain the mess. Cerenya gently wiped her down afterwards, and the now drenched bedsheets were promptly removed.
"It's alright, my lady. It's alright," said Cerenya, running her hand through Valarya's hair again. Lady Drethen met her gaze, tears flooding down her face as she sobbed and winced.
"Please, Lady Drethen, I need you to be strong," the old Altmer whispered. "I know how painful this must be, but we need to get this arrow out. Your survival depends on it, my lady. Can you do that for me?" Valarya gave no answer, only shutting her eyes as she continued to weep, clutching the broken arrow still planted in her chest.
"Valarya!" came Alarys Drethen's voice then, the Dunmer storming into the bedroom. He dashed with all haste to his wife's side, kneeling beside her and taking her hand into his.
"A…Alarys…" Valarya weakly muttered, forcing an all too brief smile as she gazed into her husband's eyes. Speaking just that one word provoked a coughing fit, and a small spurt of blood shot from her mouth.
"I'm here, my love," he said, brushing Valarya's cheek with his other hand. After an extended kiss between husband and wife, Valarya placed a shaking hand upon the bloodied handkerchief tied over Alarys's head.
"Your face…what happened?" she asked, lightly grabbing at the crimson stained cloth. After a brief hesitation, Lord Drethen slowly removed the handkerchief from his face, revealing the hideous, disfiguring scar underneath. Valarya let out a horrified gasp.
"It's nothing to worry about, my love," Alarys said reassuringly, kissing his wife again. Valarya gently pushed him away a moment later, and her crying suddenly intensified as tears raced down her face.
"She's gone, Alarys," sobbed Valarya, her shuddered voice nearly an inaudible whisper, but her words nonetheless spoken with disconsolate, heartbroken sorrow. She cupped her husband's face with her hand.
"Our baby girl is gone."
"I did all I could to try and save her, Lord Drethen," Cerenya said sullenly, suppressing a sob. "But there was nothing that could be done. I am so gravely sorry, my lord."
Alarys Drethen laid a hand upon his wife's stomach, unable to utter a single word as a lone tear seeped from his eye. Upon this grim, devastating revelation, Alarys felt as if a searing hot knife had been driven into his heart, twisting and turning slowly, painfully inside him. Even as stoic and rigid a man as he was, it was all Lord Drethen could do that moment to keep from crumbling entirely.
"Resenna…" he whispered, bowing his head in silent grief. Soul-shattered as he was, Lord Drethen fought with a will of steel to keep himself together, knowing that he needed to remain strong for his wife.
"I lost her, Alarys," Valarya wept, further tightening her grip of his hand. Her crying grew only more frantic and hysteric. "It's all my fault! I lost Resenna! I lost our baby girl! Please forgive me, my love."
"Valarya," Alarys whispered softly, pulling his wife close. Lady Drethen buried her head into his chest, muffling her cries.
"She's with her brother now, my love," said Alarys mournfully, desperate to provide any semblance of comfort for his wife. "You must take solace in that."
"Resenna!" Valarya cried, with a scream that could have pierced the very heavens. Knowing not what else to say, Alarys simply held his wife close, his shoulder wet with her tears. Alarys's overwhelming grief and sorrow very soon began to give way to seething anger, a flame more powerful than even the very sun itself stewing within his heart.
"Lord Drethen, I am terribly sorry, but I must ask you to step back now," Cerenya said urgently, returning to the bedside then. "If Lady Drethen is to make it through this, I need to extract this arrow now." Alarys wordlessly complied, reluctantly releasing Valarya's hand and making room for Cerenya.
"What…what are her chances, Cerenya?" Alarys asked her, his voice dripping with worry. The Altmer woman gave a melancholic sigh.
"I will not lie to you, my lord. I am not optimistic," she replied grimly. "Lady Drethen was pierced by three arrows altogether. Numerous ribs have been shattered, and several of her arteries and blood vessels are badly lacerated, which has caused heavy internal bleeding. She unfortunately ripped one of the arrows out herself, my lord, which I'm afraid to say was most unwise on her part. And the arrow that is still inside her, it not only went through her ribcage, but it also punctured her left lung, where it sits now."
Alarys closed his eyes momentarily, letting out a sharp, exasperated breath.
"Even if I am able to safely remove the arrow, my lord," Cerenya continued, "and even if she doesn't bleed out, there is still a very real possibility that Lady Drethen could develop an infection, or suffer poisoning of the blood. There is a sliver of hope for her survival, my lord, if I can manage to contain the bleeding. But if that arrow does not come out soon, it is guaranteed she will bleed to death."
"Do everything in your power to save her, Cerenya," said Alarys. He knelt by Valarya's side again, brushing his hand over her brow.
"My lord, even if she does survive…" Cerenya began, taking several shuddered breaths. Alarys looked up at her, eyes wide with dread.
"What is it?" he asked. Cerenya took a protracted breath before answering.
"Your wife's miscarriage has caused irreparable damage to her womb, my lord," stated the Altmer. "Even if Lady Drethen survives…it is highly unlikely she will ever bear a child again."
Valarya cried out again, feeling as if yet another arrow had just pierced through her. Alarys grasped her hand, knowing there was not a thing in the world he could do or say to ease her suffering.
Shrill screams of pain filled the room for the next several minutes as Cerenya once again attempted to remove the arrow from Valarya's chest. Alarys stood ever diligently by her side, needing several times to hold her down whenever she would writhe on the bed. Try as she might, Cerenya could not get the arrow to budge, and it was not long before she had to stop to catch her breath.
"The arrow must be lodged right in a bone," said Cerenya, with great frustration. "I can't seem to move it at all."
"Are you telling me it's stuck inside her?" asked Alarys with a raised, panicked voice.
"Not necessarily, Lord Drethen," the Altmer answered. "But my only option at this point, I'm afraid, is to make a deep incision and attempt to cut the arrow out directly, after which I will have to cauterize the wound shut."
Valarya recoiled in terror upon hearing that, whimpering in unrestrained fright and panic. Her husband gazed down at her, affectionately stroking her hair. The utter fear and sorrow swirling within her lamenting eyes was cause to break Alarys's heart. Leaning over Valarya, he gave her another kiss before looking to Cerenya.
"Do it," he ordered, his face stern and resolute. "Do whatever it takes, Cerenya."
"You understand this procedure carries great risk, my lord," the Altmer stated. "Given that Lady Drethen has lost a dangerous amount of blood already, there-"
"I said do it, damn you!" Lord Drethen brusquely interrupted, his booming voice shaking the room.
"Alarys, no…" Valarya whispered then.
"Don't worry, Valarya, you're going to be fine," Alarys assured, kissing her again. "Be strong, my love. This will all be over soon."
"Alarys…" Valarya grasped her husband's hand, looking at him with tear-filled eyes. "I want…I want you to send everybody out."
Alarys's heart skipped a beat at that.
"What, are you mad?!" he exclaimed, his eyes widened in shock, unable to believe the words he had just heard. "Valarya, you heard what Cerenya said. You'll die if that arrow doesn't come out now!"
Lady Drethen tightened her hold of Alarys's hand, the tears pouring down her face nearly resembling rainfall. She took a deep, struggled breath, before uttering the words that would see her husband's cold stoicism at last crumbled to a mere cloud of dust.
"We have already lost one child, Alarys. I cannot bear losing a second." Each word Valarya spoke bore immeasurable sorrow and lament. "I'm going to be with them, Alarys. This night…I join Velaryn and Resenna in death."
"Valarya, no! Please," Alarys begged. A sadness deeper than the darkest void lingered in Valarya's eyes, a pain burning in her heart far more unbearable than the one ravaging her body. And as Alarys gazed at her, seeing that inconsolable sadness for himself, seeing her utterly swallowed whole by her grief, it was then he knew in his heart that his wife's mind was made up, as he also knew there would be no dissuading her.
Valarya looked to Cerenya and the other physicians gathered in the bedroom, taking several pained breaths before she was able to speak.
"Cerenya, I want you and everybody else to leave us," she ordered, wincing as the ever enflaming pain engulfed her body. "I wish…I wish to spend my final moments alone with my husband." There was not a solitary shred of uncertainty or reservation to be heard in Valarya Drethen's voice. Completely and utterly heartbroken, grief-stricken, and devastated far beyond what could ever hope to be mended, Valarya had now not only accepted her impending death, but she was welcoming it warmly.
Cerenya, the ever obedient servant, gave a compliant bow, though her audible sobs betrayed her reluctance. "If…if that is my lady's wish," she answered sullenly. Looking to the other physicians, she ordered them out with a wordless gesture. Once they cleared out of the bedroom, Cerenya quickly gathered her tools and gave another bow before making her way out. Slowly she shut the bedroom doors behind her, leaving the Drethens alone.
Alarys leaned over his wife, taking her hand into his and staring into her weeping eyes. "You don't have to do this, Valarya," he said pleadingly. "It doesn't have to be this way. Please, my love, you can't give up."
Valarya reached out a shaking hand, trying to grab the blankets. Even that simple action was too strenuous for her, and she let out a cry before giving up. Alarys took the blanket himself and gently laid it over her, much like a parent tucking in their child. Valarya closed her eyes briefly and took a relaxed breath, finding a marginal trace of comfort.
"Ever since that day…" Valarya began, staring directly at the ceiling, her scarlet eyes more empty than the deepest, blackest chasm. "Ever since our beloved Velaryn was taken from us, a small part of me has always felt that I should have died with him."
"How could you ever say that, Valarya," Alarys muttered, softly caressing his wife's hair. "You gave us Serys, my love. You gave us a healthy, living son. A son who loves you more than the entire world." Valarya looked at her husband, tears flowing from her eyes once again as she wept.
"Serys…" she whispered, her weakening voice bearing just a sliver of joy as she spoke his name. "Our only child that lived. My dear, precious Serys. My heart carries the utmost, deepest regret for the pain I know this will cause him."
"It isn't too late, Valarya," said Alarys. "You still have a chance to pull through this. You know it doesn't have to be like this." Before his wife even spoke another word, Alarys already knew that pleading with her was futile. From the sheer emptiness dwelling in Valarya's eyes, it may even have been safe to say she was dead on the inside already.
"I have made my choice, my love," Valarya asserted calmly. "The pain from this arrow buried inside me is nothing, compared to that of losing Resenna. The loss of our baby girl is beyond what my heart can endure, Alarys. Whatever awaits me in the life to come, I will face it gladly, if it means being free from this agony. Free from this suffering. I cannot bear the torment of losing a child again, my love. I just can't. I am so sorry, my dear husband, for the grief I know this will bring upon you and Serys. So very sorry."
"Is this…is this truly what you want, Valarya?" asked Alarys softly, knowing not what else to say. Valarya simply nodded her head, shutting her eyes briefly as she winced in pain. She then suddenly lifted her arm out from the blankets, pointing ahead to the armoire sitting at the other end of the bedroom.
"Serys's portrait…bring it to me," she said weakly. "Let me look upon my son one last time, before I leave this world."
Without an ounce of hesitation, Alarys hurried across the bedroom. Reaching the armoire, he slid open the bottom drawer, hastily digging through the assorted clutter. From the very day Serys Drethen left the family home to enlist in the Imperial Legion against his father's wishes, Alarys had strictly disallowed his portrait to be openly displayed anywhere in the manor, although he was fully aware that Valarya would still sneak glances at it through the years when he wasn't looking. And as Alarys held the portrait now within his quivering hands, looking upon the framed picture of his son for the first time in five years, a floodgate of emotions opened inside him, and another tear slowly dripped from his eye.
Looking over to Valarya, Alarys promptly rushed back to her side. With an outstretched hand, Valarya carefully took the portrait from him, showing a tearful smile as she gazed affectionately at the painted face of her son. Valarya gently laid her palm upon the picture frame, pressing it against the glass, as if that would somehow cause Serys to appear in the flesh.
"He always looked like you," she whispered, slowly tracing her finger along the edges of the frame.
"He has your eyes," Alarys muttered, stroking his wife's hair as he looked on with her. "Though I've always thought that he looks more like his grandfather, than he does me." Valarya then brought Serys's portrait right to her chest, holding it tightly against herself as if she were embracing him in person.
"Alarys, I want you to promise me…" Valarya began, now hardly able to speak.
"What, Valarya?" he asked, grabbing her hand. "Promise what?" Valarya gave him a solemn, but stern gaze.
"I want you to reconcile with him, Alarys," Lady Drethen whispered. "This grudge you have harbored against him these last five years, this animosity…it ends now."
"Valarya…"
"He is your son, Alarys," Valarya interrupted, her eyes narrowing at him. "You will make things right with him. I want you to promise me, right now. Promise me…that you will lay to rest your resentment of Serys, and embrace him once more as your son. Promise me, Alarys." Lord Drethen nodded his head, still running a hand through her hair.
"I promise, my love," Alarys assured, leaning in and giving her another kiss. Valarya gave him a heartfelt smile.
"Tell Serys…that his mother loves him always, and that I was never ashamed of him, nor disappointed in him for his choices," Valarya whispered, and Alarys gave another silent nod of his head. Valarya brushed his cheek with her hand, and Alarys gently pulled her in close to him then, cradling his dying wife in his arms.
Valarya looked straight up to the ceiling, taking a prolonged breath. A wide, joyful smile slowly began to sweep across her face. In that moment, all of her grief and sorrow seemed to suddenly dissipate in the blink of an eye, like black storm clouds being shone away by a radiant sunlight. As she took what she knew were her final, dying breaths, Valarya felt a soothing sense of comfort growing inside her, an undeniable peace, serenity, and happiness in the knowledge that she would soon be with her lost children.
"Velaryn, my beloved firstborn…how I have longed to see you again," Valarya muttered softly, tears of joy seeping from her eyes. "Resenna, my daughter…my sunshine, do not be afraid. Mommy's coming, sweet child. Mommy's coming."
Valarya closed her eyes, her slowing breaths now little more than hoarse wheezes. Alarys pulled her in closer, and in that moment, Lord and Lady Drethen shared one final, passionate kiss, infused with every ounce of the fervent, undying love between them that had endured for three centuries. Slowly pulling back, Alarys brushed his wife's cheek, staring at the eyes he knew would not open again.
"Goodbye, my love," he whispered somberly.
That moment thereafter, in the arms of her husband, Lady Valarya Drethen drew her last breath as death took her, her now lifeless hands still grasping Serys's portrait.