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: Uh... I'm gonna assume that's a happy face. Cool.

The End: Different Conclusions

"Boss."

Brynjolf glanced up from his paperwork, and frowned when a heavy coin purse was dropped directly on top of the ink-wet parchment. He lifted his gaze to find that Rune had been the one to drop it, and that the young thief was grinning, widely.

"Why would you do that?" he asked, doing his best to sound patient.

"Would you rather I drop it on your -"

"Stop," the Guild Master said quickly, and Rune laughed. "I get it, and no, I would not." Brynjolf hefted the coin purse and smiled. "Good find, Rune. I'll put this in the safe once Delvin comes through here with his key."

"You should really give a key to someone else," Rune said, and Brynjolf raised an eyebrow at him. "I mean - not - you know what I meant!"

Brynjolf grinned. "I do," he said. "You're right. I'll think about it. Maybe it's time Vex got one."

Rune nodded in agreement. "That's a good plan," he said, and then he gestured over his shoulder. "I'm going to go get some food from the Flagon. Do you want me to bring anything back for you?"

"No, I was going to get up and get my own food soon enough," Brynjolf responded, crushing up the ruined parchment in his fists. "I just need to finish this first."

"Well, don't forget to eat again," Rune told him. "My job shouldn't be to remind you to eat food. That should just be something you know to do."

Brynjolf glanced downwards. "I know," he said with a sigh, "but I appreciate the reminders."

Rune shook his head. "Eat soon, please," he said, and then he walked off.

Brynjolf leaned back in his chair with a heavy exhalation, and then he glanced around the cistern. Only a few of the thieves were present, and they were all seated at the table in the kitchen area, eating dinner of their own. Brynjolf considered going to join them, but decided he wasn't hungry quite yet, and so he stood up and walked to the training room instead.

Once there, he pulled out his two daggers and started to attack one of the dummies, grunting with each swing. He spun around the dummy, as though it were an actual opponent with weapons to avoid, and he worked up a sweat in no time. He paused in front of it again, breathing heavily, and then his heavy breathing dissolved into sobs. He collapsed to his knees on the stone floor in front of the statue, his daggers falling from his hands.

He sat like that on the floor for what felt like ages, just crying. His shoulders shook, and his eyes burned, and he felt like he was going to vomit all over the place. The worst part was that he didn't know why. Cry had died two years ago; there was no reason for it, anymore. He'd never loved Ziris; he couldn't have been crying over her death, either.

Right?

It seemed to be hours before someone came into the training room and found him like that. He heard them, first, mostly because he was still crying and couldn't exactly see. After a moment, however, he felt them. Whoever it was had crouched down behind him, and had wrapped their arms around his shoulders.

It took Brynjolf a moment, but eventually he recognized their familiar scent, which was a mixture of the metal of lockpicks, a sweetened wine that they had made specifically for themselves, and, oddly enough, honey.

He reached up and wrapped his hand around Vex's arm, turning his head to sob into the crook of her elbow. Vex leaned her chin against it, rubbing his shoulder.

"It's all right," she said softly, holding him tighter. "Hard to not have emotions, isn't it?"

Brynjolf chuckled weakly through his quieting sobs. "I don't know how you manage to do it all the time," he said, and Vex smiled to herself.

"I don't," she said. "I'm showing emotion right now." She turned her head until her face was pressed into his hair. "It's all right for us to have a break down every few years, I think."

"Yeah," Brynjolf agreed, sniffling. "Me too."

"Faisley, please don't walk away from me," Ulfric sighed, but Faisley did not turn back around. She stalked from the bedchamber and slammed the door behind her. She then leaned against the wall opposite it, and closed her eyes to hold back tears.

She hated fighting with Ulfric, but that seemed to be all they did lately. They couldn't agree on anything, and whenever they were together, all they did was yell. Thankfully, they were rarely together, as Ulfric spent most of his time in the great hall on the throne, sitting at the head of court sessions six times a week for four hours a day. After that, he spent time with Galmar discussing Stormcloak positions around Skyrim to ensure that the Imperials didn't move back in. They didn't see one another until supper time, and even while they were eating, they were arguing.

She couldn't figure out what there was left to do.

She paced up and down the corridor for a few moments, her eyes closed. She'd handled plenty of hard situations on her own, being that her parents died when she was rather young, before she'd encountered any hardships, and that her sister left soon after. Sure, she'd always had Ulfric if she needed him, but he was never there for her in the way that she actually needed someone.

But, once that she'd encountered her sister again, she had hoped that, maybe, she wouldn't have to do things on her own anymore.

She felt herself starting to tear up, and she shook her head against it. It had been two years; it wasn't okay to cry about it anymore.

"Faisley."

She stiffened, and reached up to wipe away any tears that might've slipped, and she turned around to face Ulfric, who had come out of the bedchamber and was standing in the corridor behind her.

"What?" she asked, dryly, and he let out a breath.

"I just want to speak with you," he said. "I'm sorry."

"About what? Or are you just going to say everything, because you can't pick?" Faisley inquired. When Ulfric didn't respond, she scoffed and started to move past him, to go downstairs. Before she could get far, Ulfric reached out and took her wrist in his hand, gently.

"Faisley," he said, softly, and she bowed her head, but didn't turn to look at him. "I know that we haven't had the best marriage, but it isn't because we're not supposed to be together. I feel that there's a deeper reason, one that we can't pinpoint because we're used to things being like this."

"Are we?" Faisley glanced backwards at him, but only long enough to garner his reaction to her question. There was a flash in his eyes, but other than that, nothing, and she pulled her wrist from his grasp. "You know what, Ulfric? I don't… I don't know what there is for us to do, other than what we usually do, so let's just get it over with."

She turned to face him fully, but kept her gaze on the floor. "I apologize. Forget I said anything."

Ulfric gazed at her for a moment, and she thought he was going to say something new, something that he had never tried before. He didn't however.

"And you should do the same, with my own words," he murmured. "Forgive me."

"I do," Faisley said, and then she turned on her heel and walked away from him.

She wasn't ever going to be truly happy. She knew that, had known that from the moment her father told her that she was going to be Ulfric's wife, someday. But she could at least pretend, for the sake of her country.

After all, Skyrim was the most important thing to her. It always had been, and always would be. That, if nothing else, was something she was proud to say she shared with her sister.

"Dai, please be careful!"

Daina giggled as she leapt to the next stone crossing over the small stream cutting through the path in the woods.

Vilkas sighed to himself, knowing she hadn't paid him any attention, and carefully stepped into the next stone. Farkas followed behind him, and Aela was behind him, keeping a watchful eye out.

"Why is it that we're meeting them in the woods?" Farkas questioned, and Vilkas shook his head, stepping onto the opposite bank and watching as his daughter began to chase after a butterfly.

"I don't know," he said. "They didn't say."

"Well, it better be a good reason," his twin determined with a grunt. "First we had to travel all the way to where Helgen used to be, and then we had to pick our way through the woods to find it. It's ridiculous."

Aela chuckled to herself. "You complain a lot more than you used to," she teased, and Farkas grunted again.

"Daina, no!" Vilkas called, but it was too late. His daughter, intent on capturing the butterfly, had tripped over a rock in her path. She tumbled to the ground, and he hurried towards he as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. He lip was trembling, and Vilkas crouched down in front of her.

"Are you hurt?" he asked her worriedly, and Daina nodded, then held out her hand. The skin on the heel of it was torn up from the gravelly path.

Vilkas took her hand and kissed the red skin. "There," he said, smiling at her. "Da made it better."

Daina offered him a watery smile, and Vilkas straightened back up.

"Up!" Daina insisted, holding up her arms, and Vilkas rolled his eyes.

"You can walk," he told her, and Daina stuck out her lower lip in response.

"Up!" she said again, more firmly this time.

Vilkas cast a long-suffering look in the direction of his Companions. "Since when do I submit to the orders of a two-year-old?" he asked them, and Aela smiled.

"Since you realized she was just as persuasive as her mother."

"Fair enough." Vilkas bent down and picked up his daughter, who squealed happily as he swung her into the air and onto his shoulders. "Come on," he said, "Uncle Hainin is waiting."

"Unca 'Ainin!" Daina cried in excitement, and then she further showed her enthusiasm by banging her hands on Vilkas's head.

He winced, and Farkas laughed. He reached up, and tickled Daina, who giggled and shoved his hand away.

"Let's go," Aela said with a shake of her head, but she was grinning. She led the way deeper into the woods, and the two men followed her, Daina gripping into her father's hair to steady herself.

Eventually, they reached the tree line of a clearing, through which they could hear familiar voices, which were, unsurprisingly, arguing with one another. Vilkas exchanged an amused glance with Aela before he pushed his way into the clearing.

Hainin and Nazir were standing side by side in the center of it, going back and forth about something.

"We should've spelled it differently."

"What other way is there to spell it?"

"I don't know! Maybe we should've written it in the Dragon language. It might've made more sense that way."

"It's perfect the way it is."

"Just wait until they show up and prove you wrong. Oh, they're going to hate it."

"Hate what?" Vilkas questioned, lowering Daina to solid ground. She immediately hurried forward and wrapped herself around one of Hainin's legs.

"Hey!" Hainin said, pretending to lose his balance. Daina laughed cheerfully, unconcerned, and Hainin reached down to ruffle her dark hair before looking up at the Companions.

"Glad you found it all right," he said. "I know it's kind of hard to tell now, but this used to be Helgen." He gestured around the clearing, and Vilkas looked around, not believing him in the slightest but choosing not to argue.

"All right," he said after a moment, "but why exactly are we here?"

Hainin glanced sideways at Nazir, who nodded. Together, the two assassins sidestepped, revealing a small wooden post that was stuck in the ground. There were words engraved into it, and Vilkas moved closer so that he could read them.

Dragonborn Wood

Vilkas frowned in confusion, and lifted his gaze to the two assassins. "What's this?" he asked them, and they exchanged a look.

"Well," Hainin began, "we were in Windhelm for reasons undisclosed, and we decided to stop in and speak with our good friend the High King of Skyrim, Ulfric Stormcloak."

"And he expressed interest in how you and Daina were doing, and asked us to tell you that he and Faisley wish to visit their niece as soon as they have the time," Nazir put in.

"Right, right, and then I said,'Well, you know, Daina's birthday is soon,'" Hainin continued, 'and I'm sure that she'd like to see you two then.' And Ulfric was very distressed, because the life of a king is hard work, and he never has free time anymore. And so he said, 'I wish there was a way to make up missing the last one, and this one, too.'"

"And then Hainin told him that maybe there was," Nazir concluded, and he gestured to the post. "So, welcome to the newly renamed Dragonborn Wood, stretching from the east of the Throat of the World all the way to the edges of the woods near the Reach."

"And he was allowed to do that?" Farkas asked, sounding uncertain.

"Yeah, why not? They're a piece of the land that he rules; he should be able to name or rename anything on it." Hainin glanced at Vilkas. "And I don't think that anyone will be upset about this change."

Vilkas was watching Daina as she examined the post. She ran her fingers over the engraved words, and then looked at him.

"Mama?" she questioned, and Vilkas smiled before nodding.

"Yes," he said. "Mama."

"The kid's too damn smart," Hainin decided as Daina grinned back at Vilkas and then returned her attention to tracing the letters. "Was that her reading?"

"No," Vilkas answered, "she just knows who her mother was, that's all."

Daina seemed to lose interest in the post as a rabbit appeared nearby. She squealed and ran towards it. Of course, the rabbit hopped away as quickly as it could, but Daina chased after it, arms out in front of her.

"She's going to be exhausted," Aela commented, and Vilkas's shoulders relaxed.

"Thank the Gods."

They all exchanged a laugh, and Daina stopped chasing after the rabbit to look at them and laugh as well. That just got everyone laughing again, and Hainin reached up to wipe some tears from his eyes.

"I swear," he started, looking at Vilkas, "that she's more like Cry every time I see her. And I don't know if that's a good thing or not."

Vilkas smiled to himself as he watched his daughter, his chest tightening. "It is," he said after a moment, and then he looked at the others. "Really, it is."

Hainin reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting rub. "Yeah," he agreed, "you're right."

Daina finally lost interest in the rabbit, and she returned to the group, holding up her arms towards Hainin, who grinned and leaned down to pick her up. He tossed her into the air, and she giggled as he caught her again, and held her close.

"Hey," he said, softly, and she blinked at him, still smiling. "You take care of your father, all right?"

Daina blinked again, more seriously this time, her smile gone. She was silent, but then she reached up and pressed her hand against Hainin's cheek, and he smirked at her.

"Yeah, you get it," he said, and he passed her over to Vilkas. Daina latched her arms around his neck, then yawned widely, right in his face.

Everyone shared another laugh, and Vilkas reached up with one hand to tap her on the nose. "We should get you home, love," he said, and then he looked at Hainin. "Thank you, Hainin," he said. "Really."

Hainin waved his hand. "We don't do thank yous. They're too sentimental."

Vilkas glanced at Nazir, who shrugged. "I may have told him that you're bad at them," the Redguard said, and Vilkas shook his head to himself.

"Well, then I won't thank you," he said to Hainin, "but -"

"I get it!" the Listener cried. "Stop trying!" He was grinning, however, and he reached out a hand towards Daina, who slapped it with a laugh. "See ya later, kid," he said to her, and then he and Nazir turned and walked from the clearing, already bantering back and forth.

"Can we have one?" Hainin asked Nazir.

"You, actually take care of a child? No, I don't think so."

"Why not? I'd be a good parent!"

"I'm not saying that you wouldn't be, in the long run, but at first? I'm not going to be the only one feeding him and changing his little cloth things when he soils them."

"Him and his?" Hainin inquired, a grin evident in his voice. Nazir reached over and shoved him in response. Hainin laughed, then shoved him right back.

The Companions waited for the assassins to disappear before looking at one another. "Ready to go?" Vilkas asked the other two, who nodded in agreement. Together, they exited the clearing as well, the Dragonborn's daughter humming to herself as they went, a tune all of then recognized as the song of the Dragonborn, which Vilkas sang to her, frequently. They walked together out of Dragonborn Wood, ready for home.

As they went, in an inn, somewhere, a bard began to sing that same song, and somewhere else, a dragon roared.

And there it is!

I'm very proud of that final sentence, by the way. Worked hard to finish this story the best way I could, and I think I did a pretty damn good job.

Trivia next week, and some discussion about this story, and the future of my Skyrim-verse. See you there.