Chapter 38 – A Hero's Return

Her hand closed around the ancient steel of her sword as she fell towards her second death. The touch of cold steel snapped her back to life, and it set her anger aflame. She tightened her grip on the blade as if her life depended on it; ironically it did in a strange way. The life of Tamriel itself depended on her finishing this battle, on her winning the battle. It was not whether she believed she could win or not, she had no choice. She had to succeed in slaying the son of a god, the dark king of Dragons. She could not lose, unless everybody she cared for and dare she feel it, loved would be destroyed painfully in Alduin's destructive reign. She forced her injured arm to move, grasping for the midnight scaled dragon's spikes as he flew upwards in an attempt to remove her from his throat once and for all. Her hand couldn't find anything to grip, except her blade. As she held she felt it slowly giving way, Alduin's roar made the world vibrate in chaos as her blade tore through his flesh. The dragon flew lower and lower as its blood spilt out over Z, and the Nord assassin clung to her blade for dear life. She closed her eyes for a moment before they met the ground in a thunderous crash that shook the heavens, sliding along the earth amongst a storm of dust.

Pain shot through Z's body as she bounced and rolled at terrible angles along the ground, followed by the huge thundering form of Alduin. The dragon fell over its own wings as it came to rest over Z, who was in such pain she couldn't even utter a sound. She was positive she was dying all over again as the weight crushed her chest and the dust settled across her face. She coughed weakly as dust settled in her nose and mouth, and she felt the sticky warmth of blood on her lip. All she could taste was the metallic taste of blood and all she could feel was the gritty sensation of wet dirt sticking to her tongue and the pain of her body being crushed. After a few moments the sensations began to dim, and instead her body felt as though she were on fire. She screamed as her body arched, somehow lifting the dragon off her as purple and silver flames surrounded her. Alduin cried out, his voice echoing as his body was consumed yet Z could only feel each and every painful line down her arm burning so intensely tears escaped her eyes.

And then… nothing.

The silence was deafening, eating at her as she took a hesitant breath. The weight that had pinned her body down was suddenly gone, as was Alduin's body. She did not absorb a soul, rather the soul simply vanished. She did not know what that meant for her, if she would have to face Alduin again. All she knew was that her duty was over. She was finally free of her curse and promise. She had avenged her family, and she had made her peace. No longer did it matter whether she was truly an Assassin or a Companion, she was free from both and yet they were both a part of her. She felt light as she took another breath. The pain was blissful, it reminded her that she still had life left within her. Each painful breath was worth a thousand without the pain in her chest, rocketing through her body. The blood she coughed was worth more than her blood in safety, and worth more than the blood the curse had forced her to spill from herself nightly. This was freedom, glorious and inexplicably light.

After everything she had done and endured she was finally at the end, she had finally redeemed herself and avenged her family. She had completed her promises and had left with no regrets.

She was reborn.

…..

The wind howled outside like a dread wolf, whipping the large pieces of ice in the storm. The pieces attacked every roof in Whiterun, it coated every street and it left burning marks on the skin of Aela the Huntress and her beloved, the Wood Elf Vale as they walked up to the familiar doors. They paused at the doors, gazing into one another's eyes as they allowed the storm to beat them with chunks of hail and blow their hair about in the terrible winds. The skies were dark; clouds covered the moon and stars like a blanket shielding their magnificent light from mortal woes. The ice fell in chunks half the size of a full-grown man's fist, as if the beat away the pain from the beautiful land of Skyrim. Tamriel was in a state of mourning, and it unleashed its pain upon Skyrim. People hid within their houses, blissfully unaware of the price paid to save their world. Aela and Vale knew the price, and they mourned for the fallen. Aela shifted her large arm around the cold body she carried, feeling the leather digging into her skin as the ice continued to assault her bare back. She did not acknowledge the blows; instead, she allowed her body to become a stone wall against the tide of emotions raging within her body. She deserved each and every blow, and she would endure worse for the truth to be changed into something more fitting a hero. Her origins were questioned, as was her shady past and yet when the Assassin had been faced with her ultimate fate or the destruction of the world she had come to life once again, and she had gone to her fate without fear. That changed nothing. Meant nothing. Nothing, not even delaying the inevitable could change the fact of the matter though. Nothing could bring her back. Nothing… absolutely nothing could change the fact that Z was dead.

Vale placed her hand on Aela's shoulder gently, sliding down until her hand met Aela's bare back from the leather armor. Every scar there told a story. Every injury she had endured she wore as a badge of honor, and yet she hung her head when asked to compare to the assassin she held in her arms. Vale's loving support could carry Aela through fire and brimstone, force the Nord to survive in the harshest lands and yet nothing Vale could do would ever prepare her for what she was about to do. Her arms shook with the weight she carried, embraced in her strong arms. She could not help but think of the times she had carried Vale like this, an adoring, devoted hold as the Elf laughed with a voice as beautiful as songbirds singing in perfect harmony. Now, the same gesture was used to carry the shell of a woman she had once called sister, the corpse of a woman she would have followed to death if she had asked. She carried their leader in her arms as if she was about to drop her, and yet was unwilling to let her go. Aela did not carry joy, but the remains that would guide the Warriors in the hall of Jorrvaskr to their grief. She carried a body that would tear out their hearts and replace them with grief, and she was selfish enough to ask Vale to stand with her. The little Elf did, head bowed and tears streaming down her cheeks, leaving little red streaks down where the warmth had spread in the cold. Aela knew her own cheeks were streaked as she nodded once, feeling as if every muscle in her body had turned to iron. Vale let a small sob out as she pushed the wood open, revealing the warmth of the halls within. Laughter rung and mugs were raised as Aela and Vale stared into what they should be a part off.

Aela could feel her hair plastered down her back, and she could feel her skin stinging where the ice had struck her tender flesh. She no longer cared about all that as the door was open into the den that would become as grim as the grave their Harbinger would soon occupy. Her feet developed a will of their own as she stepped inside, aided by Vale as the Elf helped guide Z through. The laughter fell from every Companion's heart, and their faces mirrored the pain within as hearts were broken. Tears flowed freely from all eyes as Aela stepped around the large fire pit surrounded by their dining tables and walked towards the stairs to the living quarters. A few sobs broke the air as men broke and fell to their knees, yet nothing ruined the eerie silence save Aela's heavy falling footsteps as steel boots hit the floorboards.

"Aela…" Ria started, stepping forwards and touching the Nord's arm gently. Honey eyes met silver as the women gazed into one another's eyes, silently comforting each other. Aela felt her body tremble before Vale stepped up and grabbed Z's legs. Silently Aela gazed into Vale's eyes, reading the silent support and love within the Elf's black orbs, shining with so many emotions they hurt to gaze into. Vale nodded as she rested her head against Aela's throat for a second as the Nord asked a million questions in one word.

"Where?"

"Their room" Ria's answer tore through everybody's heart. News had travelled ahead of Aela and Vale, but the looks on the faces of their fellow Companions, their family, was more than enough to let them know that everybody had believed the news was mere rumours. Vale was struck hard, Aela could see it in the Elf's frame. Vale had survived when Z had not, and she blamed herself. She saw the gaze of every other Companion almost accusing the Elf, and yet all gazes held pity as well. Vale was about to break, and the hall about to fall into dismay. She had to remain strong when others could not. She could not give in to the tears that wanted to be free from her tortured heart, and she could not give into the dull ache in her chest that was like led. Instead she held her head high and took the first stride towards the room she knew she would fall apart in. She carried confirmation of her friend's worst nightmare. A man she called brother she was about to destroy, and yet honor demanded she bring news of the fallen to his attention. She swallowed a burning lump in her throat as she took another step down towards their basement come living quarters. She had to be the one to tell him, to show him. He was her brother, had been for years. Z had been a sister to them all, and a lover to Farkas. She was not about to allow her brother, her Werewolf pack member to face the death of his soul mate alone.

She would reunite the lovers, even if it were in death.

What else could she do?

…..

…..

He sat in a state of disbelief as Aela and Vale carried her body into her room. Z's skin was paler than he remembered; with her lips tinged with blue she was so frozen. Ice still clung to her hair and eyelashes, shining like little diamonds in the torchlight. Vilkas sat beside him in his full armor, holding a candle as Aela took Z's weight in her arms. The Nord's muscles tensed as she took the muscular body into her arms, one arm hooked under Z's knees while the other was around her shoulders. Silently she placed the woman down on the bed, straightening her legs so Z appeared to be sleeping blissfully, instead of eternally. The blue lips stood out against her white skin as Aela leaned away and took a few strides backwards, allowing the darkness to embrace the room in shadows as she stood before one of the candles. A single candle flickered on the bedside table as Farkas moved closer, daring to gaze at the face of his betrothed for what would be the last time.

"She was yours, Farkas. And I believe she always will be" Vale spoke softly. The Elf hung her head as she touched the large man's shoulder. Farkas couldn't express how her words affected him, even if he had been the smartest man in the world. His soul mate lay dead on a bed they had slept together in, laughed and cried over. Memories were now weapons of destruction against Farkas' heart as he swallowed. He felt sick and yet he felt nothing. His body could barely accept the loss he had felt after the purest burst of love through their bond. Now he understood, he understood her goodbye. Pain filled his chest, and anger ravaged his mind. She had lied. She had sworn she would return and they would be wed. She had sworn it! She had sworn and now she had broken her oath, and had paid a price that Farkas knew was too high. It was then his heart was soothed. She had been his. He remembered her telling him an assassin was trained to never give their trust to anyone, as it could be used against them. Z had told him this, in tears and darkness before she had told him something that still haunted his sweetest dreams. She had confessed she loved him. Now, with a painful clarity he realised the meaning of her message. She had given him her trust, her love, her heart, mind, body, and soul. She had given him everything she had, and she had wished she could give him more.

And now she was gone.

Now she had died, leaving the Companions and Dark Brotherhood without their leader. She had left Farkas without his heart and soul and she had left Skyrim without a hero. She had left a land where Dragon's ruled the skies without a hero to stand up to them. She had died the ultimate defender, but she had left a hole that could never be filled in. Nobody could replace Z in the power schemes of Skyrim.

"Z… come back" he sobbed, kneeling beside her bed. He shoved his arm under her shoulders as he lifted her body and cradled it to his chest. Without her he was nothing. Without her he was like the snowy mountains of Skyrim without snow. He was like a night sky without the moon, or the beautiful glowing stars. He was half of a puzzle that could never be completed because pieces were missing. He was a broken Werewolf, left with nothing but an empty shell. The pain he felt was so inexplicable to the world around him and his tears left hot trails down his cheeks and yet crying relieved no pain. His pain would be eternal without Z to lead him to his happiness. He clung to her body tightly, cradling her and yet holding to her as if someone may tear him away. Nobody dared move as Farkas howled into the roof above, screaming his grief out in a cry so profound that tears struck the eyes of all who heard it. It was the cry of a man who was broken, tired and alone. And then… suddenly there was a sound. A cry from beyond the grave. It was so small Farkas couldn't be sure he heard it, and yet he clung tighter to the body of his love, and the sound came yet again. Small, almost non-existent but as sure as the sun would rise in the sky.

"Ow"