Chapter 29 - The Other After-Arc Chapter Which Ties Up Loose Ends
As my consciousness finally returned to me, I slowly propped myself up with my right arm, to take a better look at the state of my bare torso and side, and was pleased to find that the Skaal herbal medicines (and Frea's Restoration magic) had done good work. Looking at my left shoulder, I gave it a careful grab, and rotated it as a test. Satisfied that I was in a decent-enough condition to be up and about despite the "prescribed" bed rest (or, at the very least, in a condition where I wouldn't be instantly thrown back into bed), I lethargically pulled myself out of the cot I'd been all but forced into, groaning and wincing slightly at the exertion, winced some more as the action caused the mostly-healed scratches on my cheek to act up, and looked blearily out of the open shaman's hut Frea had confined me to and towards the sun, truly appreciating for once the feeling of the fresh air and heat (however it slight it may have been) on my face after having had to slog through the accursed realm of Oblivion that was Apocrypha. Tentatively, I shambled out of the hut, wanting to enjoy more of it, and was immediately intercepted by a surprised Frea, who'd apparently been standing guard outside.
"Dragonborn! You're awake!" Frea exclaimed, sounding relieved, before her tone dropped slightly, in a manner I was uncomfortably familiar with, and she demanded: "What are you doing, walking around outside?"
"Just enjoying the fresh air, Frea. Honest." I said, raising my hands in a conciliatory gesture, before looking up to the mountain where a certain Dragonborn's temple was located. Frea, apparently presuming I was worried about yesterday's battle, patted my right shoulder, and reassured me: "I felt it, when you returned, you know. And I checked while I went up there, just to be sure. The Tree Stone is free again. The Oneness of the land is restored."
"I guess it's over, then, with Miraak's death." I said absent-mindedly, as I continued looking out towards the temple where Frea had laid Mira to rest. It had been one of my last (and urgent) requests before I'd passed out, as Mira's body had begun smouldering below me like the dragons that I killed, and while I didn't know what happened to the souls of dragons I ate, I had no intention of keeping Mira's soul from her rest. As my mind started to drift back to the events of yesterday, Frea looked at me at my words, and after a brief silence finally stated: "Then my father's sacrifice... it was not in vain. He died to free us."
"Storn did, yes." I said quietly, remembering how Herma-Mora had killed him, and looked at Frea, who clearly had something else on her mind. Eventually, she finally continued, her voice cracking slightly: "Tell me... was it the only way? Did he need to die?"
"Storn didn't die for nothing. Miraak will never threaten Solstheim again." I said truthfully, intentionally leaving out that Herma-Mora probably hadn't needed to kill Storn to get what he'd wanted, or that Herma-Mora had been the one to kill Mira, and that I'd pulled her out of Apocrypha. Seeing a smile grace Frea's features, and remembering her grief from the day before, I decided to embellish the truh ever so slightly, and as I placed my hand on her shoulder in turn, I continued: "He was a brave man. I couldn't have defeated Miraak without his help."
"Then... it was the All-Maker's will, as he said." Frea said, sadness still infecting her voice, but her smile wasn't diminished when she told me: "I know I should not doubt it. But it is good to hear, all the same. Thank you. Whatever your other reasons for acting, you have done the Skaal a great service. We will not forget what you've done."
"Any time, Frea." I said, with more enthusiasm than I felt, before looking around and realizing that Lydia and Aela were nowhere in sight. Curious, I changed the subject: "By the way... where's Lydia and Aela, Frea?"
"Oh, those two? Aela agreed to assist our hunters today; our food stores have been getting a bit low since most of them were under Miraak's spell. And Lydia... I think she took your pickaxe and went to the Stalhrim Source; something about repaying you for some new armor..." Frea answered casually, after spending a moment in recollection. I nodded, honestly slightly surprised that Aela was helping out the Skaal. Lydia's actions were expected enough, though; my over-protective Housecarl had seen me collapse with most of my armor ripped away, knocked off, melted, or pierced yesterday, and she, too, knew about my plans for the dragonbone armor. I thanked her and prepared to go find Lydia, but had barely taken a step when she gripped my arm and pulled me back. She looked uncharacteristically nervous, and as I looked at her, confused, she eventually said: "One more thing, Dragonborn, if you will. I know it is not my place but... may I offer a word of advice... of warning?"
"Sure, what is it?" I asked, wondering where she was going with this, and she paused for a second and bit her lip, thinking about how best to deliver her speech. I was about to assure her that she could take her time, when she visibly steeled her nerves, took a deep breath, and advised: "As shaman of the Skaal, I am charged with the spiritual well-being of my people. While you are not of the Skaal, you are Skaal-friend, and so I give you this warning. Herma-Mora forced you to serve him in order to defeat Miraak. Do not let him lure you further down that path. The All-Maker made you Dragonborn for a higher purpose. Do not forget that. Walk with the All-Maker, Skaal-friend."
"Thanks, I suppose." I said, after she'd delivered her piece, and I found my spirits buoyed slightly, although that was more at her sign of forgiveness than the advise. Her smile intensified at my words of gratitude, and after a brief moment of internal debate I reassured her: "I don't think I'm going to continue down Herma-Mora's path, though, not after what happened in there."
"Would you like to talk about what happened, in there?" Frea jumped on the opening, and I fought back a laugh at her obvious inquisitiveness. Enjoying the moment of levity, the sun on my face, and the fresh air of Solstheim, I decided to tease her a bit, and asked: "What did it look like happened, to all of you?"
"Hmmm... honestly, we don't actually know." Frea admitted, before explaining: "You read the book, and it was like you were not really here, as usual. But then your sword suddenly disappeared, your helmet got a dent, your axe then disappeared, followed by the front of your armor, which then suddenly started melting at the edges, and your dented helmet disappeared, too. Then your chest..."
"I think I get the picture." I said, holding my hand up to stop her, and she laughed, before her fingers traced the healing scratches on my torso. As they made their way up to my face, she commented: "Even with our best efforts, they'll still leave a scar."
"I'm sure they'll only add to my natural charm." I joked, more to lighten the mood than anything else, and she chuckled, before asking: "If I may just ask one or two questions, Skaal-friend? About what happened?"
My nod was approval enough, and she looked at where a certain pack had once been, before beginning with: "Why did all the Black Books you had suddenly catch fire?"
"Oh, those... I used them to blackmail Herma-Mora, before burning them and escaping." I said casually, and as her eyes widened I continued: "That's why a tentacle tried to impale me, too. It was worth it, though."
"I'm not going to complain about you turning your back on Herma-Mora, Skaal-friend." Frea said with a shrug, before her voice suddenly gained a degree of seriousness, and she pressed on: "But why, though? Why would you defy Herma-Mora in his own realm? Did it... have something to do with the masked woman you brought back?"
I looked away from her at that question, and back up to the mountain temple. None of them had realized Mira had been Miraak, as none of them had seen Miraak in person, the dragons had essentially destroyed almost every written record, picture, and statue of her, and the few surviving accounts that referred to Miraak had always referred to her as a male. Furthermore, in the aftermath of the battle, we'd essentially been so exhausted our voices hadn't gone above a whisper, and the crowd around us hadn't heard. Quietly, I pondered the actions I had taken the day before, the gamble I'd made against Herma-Mora to save someone I'd barely known, and found myself no closer to an answer than I had been when I'd done it. Eventually, still not facing Frea, I answered: "Yes... yes, it did."
"Who was she?" Frea continued her questioning, and I silently weighed my response, before looking back at her. Deciding to preserve her peace of mind, and spare her any potential grief, I chose to keep Mira's real identity a secret, and simply replied: "Just... just another victim of Herma-Mora's, who'd been stuck in Apocrypha for a really long time."
Seeing that I wasn't about to give her a straight answer, Frea sighed, and changed the topic, this time asking me: "So, Skaal-friend... what will you do next? What's next for the great Dragonborn, hero of Solstheim?"
I couldn't help but laugh at her attempt to tease, and despite having maintained a steady tone throughout the entirety her delivery Frea hadn't been able to completely maintain a straight face. Looking at her with mock reproach, I complained: "You've been spending too much time with Lydia."
"She approached me yesterday, you know." Frea explained, a hint of genuine seriousness entering her tone, and she recalled: "My grief at my father's death wasn't hidden, and I think Lydia didn't want me to assign any blame to you. When you read the book, she walked up to me, as the rest of the village was busy saying last words for my father, and told me about your prior adventures."
"What did she tell you?" I asked with mounting dread, and Frea smirked slightly before answering: "Oh, not much... just about the first dragon you killed in Skyrim, your heroic and near-suicidal deeds against an ancient vampire clan, your heroic and near-suicidal deeds in infiltrating a stronghold of those kidnapping elves, and your heroic and near-suicidal deeds against the World-Eater. And, also, a lot of comments about other women."
"I think I get the picture..." I groaned, wondering exactly how Lydia saw me, and Frea laughed, and continued: "The one thing she emphasised to me, was how you never seemed to want any of the attention, the excitement, or the glory, despite the exciting life you seem to lead."
"Want to join me, then?" I asked casually, remembering her comments a few days ago about having been restless child, and how I'd watched her fight, yet not expecting much. To my surprise, however, she actually spent a minutes or so thinking it over, and I could hear the reluctance in her voice, disguised rather well by a teasing tone, as she replied: "Join you? You mean leave the village to journey with you and fight at your side? I'm flattered, but the village is my home. It's very rare for one of the Skaal to leave, and I have responsibilities here."
I stared at her, trying to figure out why she didn't actually seem like she wanted to stay, but she maintained her gaze on me, instead of looking anywhere else that might give me a clue. Unable to pin it down accurately, I decided to just take a stab at it, and based off my my earlier recollections I guessed: "Are you sure you're ready to be Shaman of the Skaal?"
"I have been preparing for it all my life. There is no question that I'm ready, Skaal-friend." Frea answered with a snort, a hint of defensive pride coloring her tone, and I merely stared at her. Eventually, she relented, and added: "But..."
"But what? What is it?" I pressed, wanting to know what was weighing down on my friend's mind, and Frea sighed, and continued: "It is not right that I should say this, because I must honor my father's wishes, but this a path I never chose. I always thought that I would be a great hunter, or even the village chieftain."
"That could still happen, couldn't it?" I asked, genuinely curious. I could definitely believe Frea had the potential to be an excellent hunter, and she hadn't exactly done a bad job in helping the Skaal village through the crisis that was Miraak's near-return. Frea barked out a laugh, and replied: "Hah! Not if Fanari has anything to say about it. When it comes to being chieftain, she is like a wolf with her jaws clamped tight upon a fresh kill. But that's alright. The Skaal need a shaman and I know that is my place."
"Why can't you be both a hunter and a shaman, then?" I pushed, her words about apparently being forced down a path not chosen resonating strongly with me, and Frea sighed, before explaining: "That is our way. If, as a shaman, I were to go out hunting, that would be a moment I would not be spending performing my main duties as shaman."
It still rubbed me the wrong way, seeing Frea just give in like that, but I could see the strength in her eyes and the resolve in her face. And besides, it had been her recently-deceased father's wishes; there was no way she'd refuse it at this time. Besides, I, too, had all but embraced my heritage as Dragonborn at this point, at least for the duration of the Dragon Crisis, and it would be hypocritical of me to push any further. Instead, I merely looked at her with a smile, as an idea formed in my head, and as she gave me a bemused smile in return, I suggested: "You know... as a shaman, you'd probably best be able to serve your people by getting more experience."
"That... is true, I suppose." Frea answered cautiously, still unsure where I was going with this, and I continued, as if the idea had just struck me (which, to be fair, it really had): "Well, what better way to gain experience than really going out into the wider world, and seeing how others solve their problems?"
"You're still trying to get me to join you?" Frea raised an eyebrow at my suggestion, but I could see that her interest had been piqued, and feigning casualness I off-handedly remarked: "We make a great team, and I did save the village, remember..."
Laughing, Frea raised her hands, gesturing at me to stop talking, and as I did so with a light smile, she answered: "You're right. I suppose the others can get by without me for a while. Very well. I'll join you when you leave the village, at least for a few months, to wherever you're going."
"Good to have you back on board." I said sincerely, and as we both shared a smile I thought about our next course of action, and replied: "Well, I doubt I'll be returning to Skyrim yet, since the army's still being trained. So I guess I'll go get some new armor and weapons, get myself used to using them, and secure Raven Rock's aid in the final push against the World-Eater."
"I still can't believe the World-Eater returned at the same time as Miraak..." Frea commented, shaking her head, and I, too, chuckled at the absurdity of the timing. Then again, though, it was likely linked; the World-Eater's return heralded my arrival, which in turn triggered Miraak's return, probably because Herma-Mora wanted us to duel. I suggested as much, and she shrugged, and added: "Possible, true, but there was also the vampires, that Lydia told me about..."
"Perhaps I'm just unlucky." I conceded with a shrug, and it was her turn to laugh. Changing the subject, she then asked: "So... I assume Lydia's going to pass you the Stalhrim to make your new armor and weapons? If you wanted Stalhrim equipment, I'm sure Baldor would happily make it for you."
"Oh, no... I'm planning on using the Stalhrim as a fortifier for some bonemold armor." I explained, and her eyebrow raised at my words. Pre-empting her question, I specified: "The bones being used are dragon bones."
"Well... that explains the Stalhrim, I guess." Frea murmured, though I could still see the doubt in her eyes, and I guessed that she'd never considered using dragon bones for such a purpose. Then again, I'd only gotten the idea after a brief visit to Aetherius (or wherever Kynareth's realm was), and most of the smiths I'd talked to about it had told me they didn't see how it could be done. But I did need the best armor and weapons, if I wanted to stand a chance of fighting the World-Eater; even my new ebony armor hadn't been able to withstand an empowered Dragonborn. Nodding at her words, I answered: "Well... then, I guess I'll head over to Baldor's forge first..."
Frea grabbed my arm once more as I began to walk off, but this time she didn't pull me back. Instead she merely gripped it tightly, an expression similar to the uncharacteristic nervousness she'd shown earlier on her face, and yet slightly different, less like she was undecidedly debating if she should do something and more like she was debating how to do it. As I stared at her face, trying to figure out what she was up to, she eventually gulped, and quietly said: "You know... I don't think Lydia is going to be back for a few hours... how about we go to my hut, enjoy a nice cup of tea while waiting, and I can go and check up on your injuries as well."
Seeing no reason to refuse, and unsure as to why she'd taken so long to ask that, I was about to agree, when the sounds of approaching footsteps interrupted us, and I turned around just to see Lydia running right at me. Bracing myself, I managed to endure the impact of a very happy Housecarl, and over the possibly-imagined sound of a tongue clicking, Lydia exclaimed: "My Thane! You're awake!"
"At least it wasn't two weeks this time." I said jokingly, and she lightly punched me in the gut, before looking back at my torso, and noting: "My Thane... most of your wounds..."
"The Skaal do good work, I suppose." I shrugged, before she looked upwards to my face, and winced at the sight of my healing scars. At least she didn't trace them, though, but merely said, with forced levity: "They look good on you, really add a rugged charm to your face, my Thane."
"That's exactly what I said." I laughed, and as she sighed I added: "By the way... I heard you went to get some Stalhrim for me..."
"You clearly needed some new armor and equipment, my Thane." Lydia said evenly, though the way her lip curled upwards at the side told me she wasn't unhappy with my praise, and I simply looked her in the eye, and earnestly said: "Thanks, Lydia."
"... anything for you, my Thane." Lydia murmured under her breath, before grabbing my arm and dragging me towards the forge. I didn't miss her looking back at Frea, but the back of her head offered me no answers as to what message the two of them could be exchanging. Deciding to put it out of my mind, I followed her to Baldor's forge, and proceeded to forge a new set of equipment.
-EXCERPT TAKEN FROM "MODIFIED DRAGON BONEMOLD RECIPE (FIRST REVISION)", FIRST FORMULATED BY GLOVER MALLORY IN 4E 201 & REVISED BY MARIUS DRAGONBORN IN 4E 201-
Note: Bolded sections indicate additions or revisions to the original. I found that the original formula was insufficient in strength for what I needed, and it took me over a week or so of experimenting with the ratios under the supervision of the Skaal blacksmiths to get an ideal mixture, Glover. Still couldn't have done it without your initial recipe, though.
Ingredients:
- 5 cups of Dragon Bone Meal
- 2 cup of Void Salts
- 1 bottle of Netch Jelly
- 2 cups of ground Stalhrim chips
- 2 cups of crushed Dragon Scales
- 1 metal bucket of fresh water (It's easier to heat it to the desired temperatures in a metal bucket)
Add the bone and the void salts to the water and allow them to soak for at least two full days. Then add the netch jelly, dragon scales, and Stahlrim chips to the bucket. Stir over a hot flame after first heating it up with a Fire Breath (a Shout) or Expert-ranked Fire spell of the Destruction School until the mixture begins to harden. Pour the mixture into the desired mold and set the mold in the center of your forge. Fire the mixture in the forge for at least a half day. Freeze the mixture with a Frost Breath (another Shout) or Expert-ranked Frost spell and then remove from the mold.
Marius
Author's Note: And here's a short chapter to sate whoever wants a taste of this story, while I still continue planning the next few chapters. I'm not back yet, not by a long shot, but in the interim enjoy another short post-arc chapter where things just settle down, slightly. I know some of y'all have been clamouring for more smut, which surprises me, since I don't think I do a good job writing them, but, until the fate of the Tamriel isn't hanging in the balance, I'll just be focusing on Marius, his companions, and their stories.
On a side note, the story just hit 6 months of age. On that same day it hit 300 followers, 250 favorites, 50,000 views, and 100 reviews. I can't even make that up. This story has seriously exceeded my wildest expectations.
