I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. The only things that I do own are my own characters, and the storylines that I place them, and characters from the original game, into. TES V has served as inspiration.

Reviewer Responses:

Guest: Yes. :(

Nina: Because it's A Story's Conclusion. It had to happen.

Manu: I'm so mean to my characters.

The End: The Song

The sky was heavy with dark gray clouds the morning Cry Silverworthy was carried to the Skyforge and laid out on a pyre. The rain didn't arrive until after the pyre had been set to burning, and by that point, no one was able to tell rain apart from tears. Everyone present was crying, some openly, and others subtly, reaching up to wipe away tears and rain alike every so often.

Even as the pyre smoked beneath the cloud-heavy, rainy sky, void of any resemblance to its original form, the Dragonborn's husband remained nearby, gazing into the smoke and seeing all sorts of things. He saw the first time he met his wife. He saw her swing her greatsword around proudly, grinning the whole time. He saw her shout fire into the sky after a great black dragon. He saw her fly off into the distance on the back of a red one.

He saw her walk towards him in her wedding dress. He saw her in her wolf form, during the war with Hircine. He saw her after she'd returned to him, after one of their toughest periods. He saw her singing. He saw her reading. He saw her.

He saw her.

"Vilkas?"

He closed his eyes, and turned his head away from Aela, who'd come back up to the Skyforge, looking for him. She remained several paces away, but she continued speaking: "You should come inside. The rain is going to make you ill."

Vilkas didn't respond. He hadn't spoken since that morning, that wicked, evil morning when his wife had left him.

Aela let out a breath. "Vilkas, I won't even try to convince you that I know what you're feeling, because I know that I have no idea whatsoever. But you have a daughter, who just lost her mother, that needs her father. You have a twin, who just lost his friend, that needs his brother. You have a group of warriors, who just lost their Harbinger, that need their Master at Arms. Without you, everything is going to fall apart. Is that what Cry would've wanted?"

Vilkas remained silent, and Aela gazed at him for a moment longer before she shook her head to herself. "She doesn't need you anymore, Vilkas, but plenty of others do." She started for the stairs. "You're allowed to grieve, but you should keep them in mind while you do so."

With that, she disappeared from view, and Vilkas sank to his knees at the edge of the Skyforge, tears leaking out of his closed eyes. He hung his head in his hands and wished for his wife.

The inside of Jorrvaskr was filled with red-eyes, sniffles, and quiet murmuring. No one seemed to have much to say, and plenty chose not to say anything at all. Instead, they studied their hands, and let their tears fall in silence.

Queen Faisley Stormcloak was seated with her husband, but neither of them looked like royalty. Faisley hung her head between her hands to hide her tears, and Ulfric rubbed a hand up and down her back, eyes focused on nothing in particular.

Galmar Stone-Fist stood close by, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were red, and he sniffled occasionally, but no tears fell as he spoke quietly to the only other Stormcloak soldier present. Ralof nodded along to whatever Galmar was saying, but he wasn't really listening. His attention was focused on the crying baby that was currently cradled in the arms of a redheaded thief, who'd thought that holding a babe would be no trouble at all.

Brynjolf bounced the child up and down in an effort to quiet her cries, but the babe was having none of it. She continued to wail to the heavens, as though trying to call her mother back to her. Brynjolf was beginning to lose his patience.

At a table near where the thief stood with the unnamed babe, two assassins sat, watching him. The Redguard glanced towards his Listener, whose eyes were bloodshot from both lack of sleep and constant crying. Nazir had never seen Hainin look so horrible, aside from when his mother had died. Currently, Hainin's gaze was fixed on Brynjolf, or rather, the baby he was cradling.

"He needs to shut that thing up before I do it for him," he finally muttered, and Nazir exhaled. He reached over and placed a hand on top of Hainin's. Thankfully, the Imperial didn't jerk it away.

"She knows that we're all grieving for her mother, and so she's doing the same in the only way she knows how," Nazir told him.

"I don't care what kind of metaphoric explanation you want to give it," Hainin growled. "The thing killed its mother."

"You know that isn't true." Farkas had wandered over to the table. If Hainin looked bad, the Companion looked even worse. He slumped down in one of the empty chairs. "Still, it would be nice if she stopped crying."

"She's probably upset that she still doesn't have a name." That was Aela, coming over as well. She leaned against the wall instead of taking the last remaining chair, and shook her head when Farkas looked at her, a glint of hopefulness in his eyes. "He's not coming inside anytime soon."

"The girl wants her father," Nazir determined, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, her father doesn't seem to care that she exists, presently," Aela told him, "so we should try to come up with a different solution, since clearly Brynjolf's honeyed words don't work on her, just like they didn't work on Cry."

"They worked the first time," Brynjolf grumbled, just loud enough to be heard. "And, please, if no one can come up with a solution, someone else at least take her from me."

"I have a solution," Hainin muttered, and Nazir shot him a look.

"Don't be like this," he said. "I know that you're angry, but you should not blame the child."

"I can blame who I like!" Hainin exploded, rising from his chair. Before anyone could stop him, he stalked over to where Brynjolf stood with the babe. "I'm tired of it! I'm tired of the crying! I'm tired of the knowing that she's not coming back! I'm tired of everything, and it's all this thing's fault!"

Because Brynjolf was so surprised, Hainin was easily able to snatch the baby from him. She heard blades being drawn as Aela reacted instinctively, beginning to draw an arrow back in her bow's string, but something brought her to a pause before she could release it. In fact, everything seemed to come to a pause as all eyes focused on the babe in Hainin's arms, who had suddenly gone silent, for the first time in hours.

Hainin was gaping down at her as well, and he was surprised to see that she was blinking serenely up at him, her blue eyes tired, probably from all the crying that she'd been doing instead of resting. Before he could do anything, she yawned widely, her eyes closed, and just like that, the babe was asleep.

Hainin melted.

He staggered down to a kneeling position, careful not to jostle the babe as he did so, and his expression softened as he looked down at her sleeping face. He lifted his gaze after a moment, and it landed on Nazir.

"I… I think she likes me," he said, quietly, and it was Nazir's turn to melt, especially when he saw the tears in Hainin's eyes.

The Listener bowed his head over the baby. "I'm so sorry," he whispered to her. "I know it wasn't your fault. I'm sorry." He sobbed, and Faisley walked over to him in order to retrieve the baby before he could cry all over her.

Hainin responded to this rather violently, turning away abruptly. "No!" he said. "She's all I have left of her!" He swallowed thickly. "She's all we have left of her."

Faisley's eyes suddenly burned with newfound tears, and she turned away, retreating back over to Ulfric, who drew her into his arms.

No one else attempted to take the baby from Hainin, who was no longer about to cry. Instead, holding the babe seemed to be a sort of comfort to him, after his most recent revelation about her. He stared down at her, his eyes gentle, and he cooed to her, softly.

Nazir rested his head in his hands. Seeing Hainin with the babe was stirring up feelings that he shouldn't be feeling, particularly at a funeral. It was just extremely endearing, seeing Hainin so vulnerable and soft. It was almost as attractive as seeing him in diplomatic situations, or while he was shooting his bow, and it shouldn't have been, not just then.

Aela had taken Hainin's vacated seat when she saw that the Listener posed no threat to the baby. She glanced at Farkas, who'd covered his eyes, his shoulders shaking. He was crying again.

Everyone would cry again before the day was over, and it was barely noon.

Vilkas remained on the Skyforge even after the rain had gone. He was soaked to the skin, but he didn't seem to notice. He was gazing at the spot where Cry's pyre had sat hours before, now nothing more than ashes. He didn't know what he was waiting for, but he felt as though that he was meant to wait, because something would happen if he did, and was patient about it. Something had to happen.

He wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but at some point he did. In his dreams, he was haunted by more images of Cry, these ones even more heart wrenching than the ones he'd seen in the smoke. These were real, so real he felt as though he could reach out and touch her.

And, because it was a dream, he did so, and was relieved when he made contact with her hand as she reached out to touch him as well.

"Vilkas," she murmured, smiling at him. Her eyes were shining bright blue. "You should be inside. Our daughter needs you. Our Companions need you."

"I need you," Vilkas whispered, wanting to hold her, and not simply touch her hand. "Why did you leave me?"

Cry lost her gentle smile, and her eyes dimmed slightly. "I did it for her, Vilkas," she murmured. "For our daughter. I knew what I was at risk of, and I knew what could be done to save me, but I also knew that the chances of our daughter dying instead would be much higher. I made a choice." She paused. "And you told me that you would be all right. I thought it would be all right for me to go."

"I didn't know that - that you meant that I'd actually be alone," Vilkas said. "If I had, I never would've said yes to you, because I can't do this by myself, Cry. I can't. You were always so much stronger than me, and now you expect me to be strong without you? You ask too much of me."

"Vilkas, I would never ask you to do more than I know that you're capable of." Cry lowered her hand, breaking their connection. Vilkas felt the loss immediately, and he panicked when she disappeared from view. He spun around, searching for her, desperate.

"Cry! Please come back! I need you! I need you…" He trailed off, eyes closing, and he felt a gentle brush against his cheek, as though someone were stroking it with their fingertips.

He then heard her whisper to him: "I will never fully leave you, my love. In every song you hear, I'll be there. Whenever our daughter laughs or smiles, I will be there. For every dragon that flies over the sun, cloaking the land in shadow for a brief moment, know that when the light returns that it is me."

There was a light press of lips against his. "I love you, Vilkas. Do all that I know that you're capable of, and please, don't be afraid to ask for help."

Vilkas closed his eyes. "I won't be. I'm not as stubborn as you."

He heard Cry chuckle, and then he was waking up. He was still laying before the Skyforge, and now he could feel the coldness of his damp clothing and hair against his skin. Stiff, he sat up, and then climbed to his feet. He looked at the spot where the pyre has burned one last time before he exhaled and started down from the forge.

When the doors of Jorrvaskr opened, everyone jumped, including the babe, despite the fact that she'd been dozing peacefully in Hainin's arms. She began to wail once more, and Hainin winced, holding his arms slightly away from his body.

"I'll take her."

He started at the voice, and slowly turned to see Vilkas standing behind him. The Companion looked a right mess, but his eyes were clear, and he'd spoken, which, to Hainin, meant he could be trusted to hold the child.

Carefully, the baby was transferred from his arms to her father's. As soon as the transfer was complete, she fell silent, and she gazed up at Vilkas with wide blue eyes.

Unexpectedly, Vilkas smiled slightly, and cradled her closer to his chest, his eyes closing.

Everyone began to cry for the final time that day.

The whole of Skyrim mourned their Dragonborn. When the news reached each of the nine holds, which didn't take long, the jarls all immediately declared a new holiday called Dragonborn Day, to be celebrated on the 21st of Hearthfire each year, Cry's birthday.

Letters were sent to Jorrvaskr, written with condolences for Vilkas, and sending their hopes to him and the babe, who, unfortunately, still did not have a name, even a week after her birth.

Vilkas and Hainin, who had elected to stay behind in Jorrvaskr for a while longer, with Nazir's permission, to help Vilkas for a while, mostly with handling all the mail he was receiving, and sending back responses, were the ones in charge of that. At first, Vilkas hadn't known if it was necessary, but then Farkas had asked him what Cry would have done, and that was the end of the discussion. Everyone who sent a letter was getting a reply.

On top of his letter writing, Vilkas also had a newborn babe on his hands. Thankfully, Aela had recruited a nursemaid, who was able to feed the babe. Vilkas wasn't sure if he felt comfortable with it, but then Aela had said that there was no other way of ensuring the babe received her proper nutrients, and so he'd conceded.

Besides, the nursemaid was nice enough, and she seemed to have eyes for his twin, which Vilkas didn't necessarily approve of, considering she was only supposed to be feeding his daughter, but he wasn't complaining, either, especially when he noticed that Farkas was making eyes right back.

When two weeks had passed, and the babe was still being referred to as 'Little Cub' and 'Tiny One', Hainin decided to put his foot down.

"She needs a name!" he declared one evening, after Vilkas had come back upstairs from putting her in her cradle.

That surprised Vilkas, who hasn't been expecting such an outburst, and caused Farkas to spit up the drink of mead that he had just taken. Aela merely frowned at the assassin.

"We know," she said, dryly. "You don't need to yell about it."

Hainin scowled back. "I wasn't yelling," he stated, and then he looked at Vilkas, "but I was being serious. If you don't name her, I will, and you do not want me to name your daughter."

Vilkas exhaled a breath, and he settled down in a chair at the mead hall table. "Maybe you should name her, Hainin," he said tiredly, holding his head in his hands. "I just don't have any desire to."

The other three were silent as they exchanged glances. Vilkas had been acting a bit better, but he was still suffering. He just wasn't being as open about it. Now, however, looking at him, all three could tell that he was putting off naming the babe, perhaps because he felt that, if he did so, it would sort of be him closing the chapter that had opened during her birth, and he didn't want to let go of that bit just yet.

"Well… if I come up with a good one, I'll let you know," Aela finally said.

"Me too," Farkas agreed.

"I'm still going to stay out of it," Hainin said, holding up his hands.

That caused Vilkas to smile, but only slightly, and he lifted his head. "I sort of want it to be based on Cry, but not in such a way that… well, you know, makes Cry the only thing I can think about when I say it. Does that make sense?"

"So… Cry's out, then? And her old name, too?" Farkas guessed, and Vilkas nodded. "Well… what about something that sort of… I don't know, sounds the same?"

"What do you mean?" Vilkas asked him, frowning.

"I don't know. You could just choose something that sort of sounds like Cry, or her other name." Farkas shrugged. "Maybe the other name, so that it's kind of less likely to set you off."

Aela nodded to herself after considering it for a moment. "It's not a bad idea," she said, looking at Vilkas.

"Well, her old name was Crayla," Vilkas said, and he grinned, slightly. "I don't blame her for wanting to change it."

"Yes, you definitely need something better than that," Hainin agreed, his nose wrinkled. "I like the sound at the end, though."

The next few minutes was spent mostly by the four of them trying out different names that ended in 'ah'. None of the ones that they came up with sounded right to any of them, however, and they started to get discouraged.

Vilkas sighed to himself. "She's never going to have a name," he said, quietly. "It was one of the only things Cry said to me that she seemed sure of, that night, that I'd be able to come up with one, but I can't… I can't do it."

Silence followed that, and Vilkas raised his eyes to the ceiling, exhaling, slowly. He closed them after a moment, and there was a flash of light behind them. He blinked them open, and looked at the others.

"Daina."

"What?" Aela asked, glancing at him.

"Daina," Vilkas repeated.

"That's pretty," Farkas said, and then he tried it out. "Daina." He grinned to himself, and then at Vilkas. "That's great!"

"Where'd you come up with it?" Hainin asked, and Vilkas shook his head.

"I don't know. It just… came to me," he said, and then he smiled for a third time, to himself. "Daina."

Well...

Final chapter next week, and then a chapter of trivia after that, and then we close the book on this part of our Skyrim characters' lives.