A Stranger in Skyrim
Chapter 37: Denial
By: N3k0
In which the white light of healing descends.
Aela cut her loose, a soft frown on her face. Mariah fell to her knees, and the huntress kneeled before her. There was a shock of pain as Aela shoved her shoulder back into its rightful position.
"That better?" She asked.
Mariah nodded weakly.
"Good. Now - " A hard slap across her cheek - she winced, looking down and away. "What were you thinking?"
She hung her head, not answering.
"I can't hear you," Aela said. "What possessed you? What was running through your head?"
She sighed softly. "I wasn't thinking," she admitted.
"Damn right you weren't! You went off alone, you're half-prepared at best - how did you plan to kill the master, hm? With your bare claws and charming personality?"
She felt small. Tiny, even.
"You're damn lucky I followed you," Aela informed her. "Do you have any idea what he would have done to you?"
She shook her head.
"Well, what was left of you wouldn't be pretty, let's put it that way." Aela sighed. "We've all made mistakes," she admitted. "But sometimes, even the smallest error can mean death, or worse. You, of all people, cannot afford to take that kind of risk."
She held her hand out to Mariah. "Get up. I'd rather not spend the night in a crypt."
Nodding, she took Aela's hand, slowly pulling herself to her feet.
"Thanks," Mariah murmured softly. "I don't want to know what he would have done."
They rested overnight in Falkreath, before heading back to Whiterun. The journey itself was uneventful enough.
Until they reached Riverwood.
Aela noticed it first - she held up a hand, signalling for Mariah to stop.
"Smell that?"
Mariah lifted her nose to the wind, then sneezed - smoke? What?
"Something's burning. Let's go - be careful."
The town wasn't precisely on fire anymore, though parts of it still smoldered a bit. The structures were still standing, more or less. The smithy, though - Alvor's place. That had been hit the hardest. One wall collapsed as she watched, while another wall tried valiantly to hold up a roof that had already caved in.
Mariah stared in shock, for a moment, before spotting a living body amid the destruction.
She ran to Alvor's side, heedless of Aela's warning shout.
He was struggling to move, when she got to him, and it was obvious why. A silvery sword protruded from his chest.
"Don't move," she said, panic in her voice.
He groaned, settling back onto the ground in a pool of his own blood.
No, no, no.
"C-came out of - of - nowhere," he wheezed.
"No, don't speak - it'll be okay. I can - I can fix this."
The man coughed, his blood spurting a bit.
"Took - the - the girls. Sigrid ... "
His eyes slid shut.
"Don't you leave me! I can fix this, I swear I can fix this." The life faded from his eyes as she begged him to stay.
No. She refused to accept this.
She stood, grasping the sword in both hands. The metal burned her palms but she could care less. With a sharp yank, she dragged the blade free of his chest, then dropped it like it was a burning coal - to her, it might as well have been.
Whole.
His body had to be whole for this to work.
She let the green magic fill her up, and oh - there was so much. So much more than she had ever guessed. She pushed that light into the corpse. It was slow going: the recently-dead flesh protested the growth she was forcing on it.
She would have nothing but perfection, here.
Slowly, his wounds knitted closed, back to front, healing every organ, every bone, until at last his body lay ready.
Good.
She found his soul, still lingering just above his body. She forced the soul to reclaim its body, drawing on power she didn't fully understand. This would work. This had to work.
A white light shimmered around her.
Of course.
The dragon. Yes.
White light shot forth from her body, spearing him through body and soul. Slowly, the spirit assumed its rightful place. She could hear his first heartbeat. She could hear when he drew his first breath.
His eyes, once glossed and unfocused, now fixed on her in wonder.
She wobbled a bit, feeling emptier than she had before. The white light sunk into Alvor's body, vanishing from sight. But she knew - she would always know.
Her magic had dwindled to an ember, from her exhausting effort.
She looked up and around. Beside her, Alvor sat up, examining his own hands. Tears filled his eyes - she pretended not to notice.
It wasn't hard to pretend; she was more alarmed by the small crowd that had formed. One man's arm ended at his elbow, a tourniquet preventing him from bleeding out. He was a guard, she remembered. Another used crutches to manage on one leg. It seemed that every resident in Riverwood was present.
Except Lucia, Dorthe, and Sigrid.
Aela pushed to the front of the crowd, her voice loud enough that everyone could hear.
"I know who did this."
AN: This chapter really fought me!
Sorry for the length. :(
I'll be going back to my day job on Monday, so the updates are going to run slower now.
Thank you all for reading, all the same!