Today was the day. The day where Diamond had to face the hardest and worst of all thing since Kodlak's death.

At least there wouldn't be any bullshit ceremonies like for other deaths of noble warriors. Kodlak didn't like that stuff much, but still had respects to the gods. He wanted things to be quick and simple, and the celebrate his acceptance in Sovngarde with ale and songs of triumph.

But would he even be accepted? He still had his beast blood.

Diamond takes a deep breath and exhales. One obstacle at a time, she says. One at a time.

Standing in front of the mirror hanging on the inside of the wardrobe door, Diamond straps her glass Warhammer across her back, adjusting her chitin gauntlets and tightening the belt of daggers around her waist. She's tempted to pull her hair back, as it's long enough to be touching her collarbones. Kodlak always liked her with shorter hair, said it made her look older, more mature.

She folds in her bottom lip, taking sudden inhales through her nose. Turning her head, she finds a pair of scissors on the shelf inside the wardrobe, tucked behind some old shoes and some scarves. Her old shoes and scarves – she had already packed up Kodlak's things. There was no one else to do the job. No one; at least no one she would allow, and nobody protested. They knew what Kodlak meant to her, and what she meant to him. Some of them even resented her for it, but now, it's the only thing she has left.

Off to the side of the wardrobe, there are the two trunks that she had filled with Kodlak's belongings. Things that she wouldn't need, and that would forever be encased in glass in Dragonsreach: Kodlak's armor, his favorite sword, dagger, Warhammer, and shield. She wasn't exactly comfortable handing over his things, even to the jarl, but what other option is there? They can't stay here, and she certainly can't keep them in her room, or at least, not some of the bigger things.

The thought of someone else touching Kodlak's things, packing them away like any other things made Diamond wild with rage and grief.

The only thing she didn't touch was his desk. Every book, every paper, every pen and book and map is still scattered along the desk as if the Harbinger had only stepped out for a moment.

Diamond turns her head to look and finds the desk in the light of the sconces on the wall. The shelves are still packed with books, some alchemy ingredients left in bowls and pushed into one corner, the map of Skyrim still spread across the entire surface of the desk.

After a blink or two, Diamond carries a wastebasket over to the mirror. With a deep breath, Diamond takes the scissors and carefully measures by the length of her skin, her cheeks and the back of her neck. Another deep breath, and she closes the scissors around the ends of her hair. Blonde tips fall into the basket. She snips off another set of strands, nearly perfectly even with the first. She continues this process, and by the end of it, there's a small gathering of blonde hair in the basket.

Ruffling her fingers, Diamond releases any other loose strands before she brushes it out. Much better. Kodlak was right, as always, she looks better with short hair.

One final glance, and Diamond is out of the Kodlak's chambers and walks down the hall and up the stairs to the dining room. as she walks up the steps, she just sees Ria walking out towards the Skyforge.

As Diamond walks over to the doors, she stops by the table to grab a small sweet roll. Her heart aches for Malick to be here, so she won't have to feel so alone. But she has to remember that she is not alone, she has her clan, her Companions. Still, having him here would be a form of comfort. She can at least wishfully think that he's watching from the shadows, expertly hidden from the eyes and noses of the Circle members.

After her final chomp, Diamond walked up the steps and out towards the back porch.

The moon is overhead, casting the world in silver. Diamond sees the members of the Circle up above, already surrounding the forge. The rest of the members are standing at the bottom of the steps, while young male priests carry Kodlak's body on a bejeweled carrier, his arms still folded like in the Hall of the Dead, his favorite sword between them.

Diamond walks up, and the members part easily. She follows the priests without saying a word. Some of them look to her, and barely acknowledge her. Once they're at the top of the stairs, Diamond can see Jarl Balgruuf has joined them, along with Danica, the priestess of the Temple of Kynerath. They spare her a nod, and an expression of grief. Diamond returns the nod. Down below she can see a majority of the citizens of Whiterun starting to gather, borne in black and carrying many bouquets of flowers, the majority of them Kodlak's favorite. Diamond almost cried right there, to see the community gathered, united by the loss of a great warrior.

Her eyes scan the crowd for any signs of Libby, but she didn't recognize anyone. Her chest grows heavy, and she turns to find Farkas. She passes by Eorlund, and briefly takes in how the forge has been decorated so nicely. To those who don't live in the city, they wouldn't think it was a forge, what with the lighted candles, and red swath banners swooping across the base, and wreaths of snowberries winding and wrapping here and there.

Kodlak's bed has been bordered with thorns and roses, and the banners of Whiterun are standing proud behind the members of the Companions. The rest join everyone up top, and as Diamond takes her place in between Farkas and Aela, she quietly leans in and asks him, "Did you tell her?"

"Yes." He answers coldly.

"And?"

"She'll come when she can."

"But she's coming? For sure?"

For the first time since Libby had been dragged to Drangonsreach dungeon, Farkas looks to her, and his coldness ebbs only slightly. "Yes."

Diamond nods and takes a deep breath. Her eyes find Vilkas and she almost turns around and heads back into Jorrvaskr. But no, this isn't about Vilkas, this isn't about her. This is for Kodlak.

And perhaps it's time she stops running from problems . . . She quiets her thoughts as she hears Eorlund begin the ceremony. The citizens are down below, holding candles and flowers, while the Companions are up top, with Kodlak.

"Who will start?" he asks quietly.

"I will." Aela volunteers, but her voice is much more hushed than usual. She approaches the forge, taking a deep breath, her attention solely on Kodlak. "Before the ancient flame,"

"We grieve." Diamond says, her voice intermixed with the others gathered.

"At this loss," says Eorlund.

"We weep." The group chimes together, a few hitched breaths here and there, and already Diamond can hear sniffles and sobbing of the citizens and a couple of the members.

"For the fallen," Vilkas speaks.

"We shout!" the members say with more passion.

"And for ourselves," says Farkas.

"We take our leave."

Then the time comes for each of the members to speak their minds about Kodlak, Eorlund was the first to start. They wisely spiked Diamond. Her actions enough spoke widely of her feelings for the Harbinger. But she was surprised that Vilkas decided to speak as well. A couple of jokes were put here and there, a few soft laughs were allowed. Then the time came for Aela to take the torch and burn the body.

She approaches closer, and ignites the strand of dry kindling leading up to Kodlak's dais. Diamond watches the fire consume the thorn branch before it licks the bed and easily devours Kodlak's form. The banners burn, the kindling burns, and berries burn; everything. Diamond's feet walk up and she glances at Aela before watching the flames silhouette Kodlak's form.

They watch him burn for, minutes, an hour or two? She can't remember. But she does feel the shift in the air, a form of, release, as the twigs crumple upon him and the banner evaporate into nothing. She feels something lift as the smoke plumes it way into the sky and the stars twinkle dimly.

"His spirit has departed." Aela says softly, Diamond not missing the flow of tears in her eyes. She's never really seen Aela cry before, not even for Skjor's death. But now, she can see sadness flow form everyone. "Members of the Circle, let us withdraw to the Underforge, to grief out last together."

Nods here and there, and the Companions descend the stairs and allow the citizens of Whiterun to walk up and pay their respects, lay down their candles and flowers, and sob and weep and woe.

As Diamond is watching the crowd file up the stairs, she scans for any signs of Libby. She can only really look for signs of black hair and clothing. What would she ever say to her? Will Libby even accept her apology? Will she even talk to her? Diamond almost moan at how their roles have been reversed. Now Libby could be the one wanting nothing to do with Diamond now after the betrayal, and, abandonment.

With her thoughts tangling, she sighs and continues watching the crowd. Then Eorlund comes up next to her, his face illuminated by the rays of moonlight. "Would you mind doing me a favor, Diamond?"

"Of course Eorlund."

"Before the funeral, Vilkas came and gave me the fragments of Wuuthrad. I am going to be preparing them for mounting again, but there is another piece. One that Kodlak always kept close to himself. Would you mind going to his chambers and bringing them back for me?"

Diamond gives a stiff nod. "It would be my pleasure."

"Thank you. I'm not sure I'm the best one to go through his things. I appreciate it."

"But may I ask something of you?" Eorlund nods and Diamond leans in. "I'm expecting Libby to come, but I'm not so sure now. Would you just keep an eye out for her? Let me know if she arrives?"

"Of Crouse." He nods

A small smile on Diamond's part, and she nods in return before heading into the hall. She had forgotten; after killing Kodlak, the Silver Hand stole the fragments of the great battle axe. While she laid in bed buried in her grief, Vilkas and a couple other members of the Companions went and slaughtered the main base of the Silver Hand, retrieving the fragments in the process. It all seems like a blur of days; she didn't even notice the pieces missing on the wall mounts in the dining hall.

Making her way around towards the front doors, Diamond still watches the citizens with any familiar signs of Libby. Nothing.

The warmth of the hall welcomes her, feeling like home again. Something that had felt so lost since Kodlak died. Her feet bring her down the steps to the living quarters and straight towards Kodlak's chambers. She's been living in the chambers for, months . . . perhaps even years since she joined; how is it she never really saw the piece?

Well, she didn't even know about it, so she never really had a reason to search anyway. It could be in the drawers of his end tables or such.

Diamond pushes open the doors and feels the scent of his room waft into her nose. she immediately turns to the end table. Knowing Kodlak, Eorlund said he kept it close to him, so it's be in here somewhere.

Opening the drawer, she rummages through some papers until she felt the sharp prick of a fragment tucked underneath. She carefully takes the piece but pauses, and beholds the papers beneath the piece. They are covered in scribblings in Elsweyr – and Hammerfall, High Rock, Black Marsh, Morrowind, Cyrodill, Valenwood, the Summerset Isles. All languages of Tamriel.

Looking around, she attempts to pull out the papers, but finds them weighted down by his journal. Immediately she drops the papers back into the drawer and shuts it. Despite her curiosity, she would fight it. Anything with his journal, his most personal and private thoughts . . . even she isn't ready or worthy to read through it.

Making her way back outside, Diamond finds most of the crowd has dissipated, though she can hear their sobs in the distance. After their contribution, it is the time to go and to grieve with the family.

As Diamond is about to walk up the steps towards Eorlund, she stops dead in her tracks.

She wordlessly beholds Princess Nassari approaching the steps of the hall, borne in black clothing, a veil over her eyes, and behind her . . . behind her.

Libby.

Diamond's knees nearly buckle as they approach, Nassari leading them, Libitania almost, cowering behind her. She wears a mourning dress that still looks extravagant despite its purpose. And a veil, a veil that stretches down to her feet, and is held in place by a silver circlet.

As they pass the crowd and members, they spare nods of acknowledgement, and Diamond could see Libby's eyes rest on her for the briefest of seconds.

Her heart skipped at the sight of the scar trailing down Libby's eye. Though barely visible, Diamond could spot that a mile away, since she is the one who inflicted it upon her.

The door to the Underforge groans and out steps the members of the Circle, probably to collect Diamond, but stopped when they saw Nassari and Libby mounting the steps to Skyforge. Farkas immediately follows, though keeping a wise distance behind. Aela and Vilkas follow as well, though mostly to make sure Libitania doesn't hurt herself or anyone around.

And Diamond . . . Diamond just watches. Watches without taking a step, almost cowardly as she watches the two meet Kodlak at the top.


Even though they didn't recognize her in her current attire, the night watch in the Cloud District didn't stop her as she passes through towards Jorrvaskr. Course, that could just be because she has Princess Nassari with her. Shortly after Farkas told her about Diamond's invitation to the funeral, she went to the princess the next morning. Nassari was more than happy to go there with her, meaning to pay her own respects to the Harbinger, for she sensed he was a good man. Libitania did too; which is why she couldn't turn away this offer.

She knew the hall would be swarming with people, but those who were already on their way home quickly look away as Libitania makes her way there. She doesn't blame them. A black dress and a sheer, flowing black veil spoke enough about her grief, and keeps everyone at a long, long distance. As though her sorrow were a plague.

But she didn't give a damn what the others thought, the mourning clothes weren't for them. She follows Nassari up the steps towards Jorrvaskr's front door. She can only assume Nassari is following the crowd. A simple turn left and there is the great Skyforge, the towering stone eagle illuminated by the moon. Kodlak would not be buried in the Hall of the Dead, nor entombed in the royal mausoleum; inside was for the noble family.

Lifting her head, she sees the burning flame atop. She doesn't dare angle her head otherwise to look for familiar faces. Though she did spot Diamond coming out of the hall, and Libitania nearly fumbled a step. But she continued to follow Nassari, and as they mount the steps, nodding their heads to the remaining members, Libitania hears a sound of stone grinding on stone; but doesn't investigate. Familiar footsteps soon follow them.

While her heart ached at the thought that there would be no headstone to lay flowers, no special mound of dirt set just for Kodlak for her to visit, there really is no better way to send off a warrior like him.

And here she is. At the top, where Eorlundwas just staring at the still burning body, turning his head to acknowledge their existence before stepping away, murmuring appropriate greetings to Nassari.

Nassari is the first to step up to the alter, immediately getting down on her knees and folding her hands together. The skirt of her dress blooms around her and she lowers her head. She pays her respects in Elsweyr, only allowing her and Libitania to understand what she is saying. An honorable tribute, something to keep between only her and Kodlak.

Libitania stares at the mound, the smell of snowberries wafting to her nose, a chill wind rustling her veil. The looming shadow and mass of the stone eagle above threatens to squash her.

When Nassari is finished, she lifts her head, rises to her feet and extends her hand out. She delicately traces a symbol in front of Kodlak, a symbol of the Elsweyr Warrior God. An honor to him in hopes he finds peace in his afterlife.

She steps away, and touches Libitana's shoulder. "I'll be down the steps when you're ready." She speaks in Elsweyr.

Libitania nods and waits until Nassari starts dismounting the steps to approach the dais. Quaking like a leaf, she holds her hands steady and takes a deep breath.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Vilkas asks his brother.

"It feels right." Farkas affirms. Vilkas gives him a questionable glance, and Farkas chuckles. "Can't let it rest, can you?"

"Knock it off you two." Eorlund chimes.

Libitania can feel the warmth of the fire at her front, not too hot to produce sweat, but to wrap around her and feel like a warm embrace from the beloved Harbinger. Her lips quiver.

"Kodlak, I'm going to miss you more than you can even imagine." She whispers to the wind, to the earth, to the body burning before her. "You were like my father, and you accepted me without question; maybe because as Harbinger you saw something in me that's worthwhile."

She sniffles, trying to control her breathing as her shoulders violently shudder. "Now all I have to do is find that thing. I've bene running for so long that I have forgotten what it means to stand and fight." A warm, spirited breeze kicks up and kisses against her face. Libitania feels the tears on her face before she realizes she's crying. She drops to her knees and nearly sets her head on the brim of the dais. "I'll try not to disappoint you."

Raising herself, Libitania steps away from the dais, and she could've sworn the flames have grown taller. Bigger, but still containing a gentleness that is Kodlak.

Her chest aches, but this is the one last thing she had to do, the one last honor she could give the Harbinger.

Libitania tilts her head to the sky, closes her eyes, and begins to sing.


It was by pure coincidence that the members of the Circle came out of the Underforge by the time Libitania and Nassari were mounting the steps towards Kodlak's shrine. They had been awaiting Diamond to come in, and when she didn't they all left to collect her. But when they came out, they saw Libitania and the princess, and Farkas immediately abandoned the members to follow her and watch her. The others followed probably just to make sure she didn't ruin anything. As if she could.

They left her with appropriate space, waiting like guardians. Diamond came up behind Farkas to watch, but didn't dare to advance. While Farkas almost felt as though he had no right to be here, Kodlak was his Harbinger too.

But what he didn't expect at all was to see Libby lift her face to the moon and sing. Everything seemed to grow still at that point.

It was not in any language that he knew. Now in the common language, or in Elsweyr, or in the language of Hammerhfell or Cyrodill, of anywhere else on the continent.

The language was ancient, each word full of power and rage and agony.

She had a beautiful voice, even if many of the words sounded like half sobs, the vowels stretched by the pangs of sorrow, the consonants hardened by anger. She beat her breast in time, so full of savage grace, so at odds with the black gown and veil she wore. The hair on the back of Farkas' neck stood as the lament pours from her mouth, unearthly and foreign, a song of grief so old that it predated Whiterun itself.

And then the song finishes, its end as brutal and sudden as Kodlak's death had been.

She wipes her eyes and steps away, silent and unmoving.

Slowly, she half turns to him. Her silver circlet shimmers in the moonlight, weighing down a veil so concealing that only those who knew her recognized her.

A breeze whips past them, making the branches of the trees moan and creak, setting her veil and skirts billowing to one side. She gives a sad smile and approaches him.

"I don't think I can ever thank you enough." Her voice hitches.

Farkas smiles and opens his arms for an embrace. Libby walks into them, resting her head on his shoulder. His own eyes watering, his chest aching, he rests his cheek against her veil, kissing through it to her forehead. He holds her close, one hand wrapped at the small of her back, and the other around her neck, stroking her head. They hold one another, feeling her give him a reassuring squeeze that she will be okay . . . eventually.

Footsteps approach them, and Farkas loosens himself form her, tentatively moving his hand under the veil to wipe her tears. He kisses her brow.

They both turn to find Aela. The huntress nods her head, a ghost of a smile on her lips. Then both are relatively surprised when Aela opens her arms to embrace Libitania. The assassin hugs her back without hesitation. "You will always have a home here, Libitania."

"Thank you, Aela."

She turns to Vilkas, who still doesn't say anything. She gives a small nod, and he returns it, even he has the slightest smile, but it's something. Angling her head, she finds Diamond behind Farkas, quiet. Libitania looks past her and finds Nassari waiting at the end of the steps. With a deep breath, she begins to descend, making sure to angle carefully around Diamond. After the way she left Jorrvaskr after delivering Zusa's head, it wouldn't surprise her if Diamond wanted to avoid her.

When she reaches Nassari, the princess asks in Elsweyr, "Are you ready?"

"Not yet." Libitania replies, shaking her head. "I just, need to be alone." She pulls out a dagger hidden within the folds of her skirt and hands it to the princess. "Keep this close, I'll meet up when I can."

"Be careful." The princess informs. Libitania nods and the two share an embrace, the princess kissing Libitania's brow.

As the princess leaves, Libitania feels eyes upon her.


Diamond watches quietly as Libitania and the princess exchange a short conversation in Elsweyr and when the princess turns away and begins to leave, Libitania half turns to Diamond.

A chill billows her veil and skirts of her down, Diamond's hair rippling in waves of gold.

"Libby." She pleas. Libitania doesn't move, her stillness the only sign that she had heard Diamond.

Diamond swallows, her nerves making her stomach ache.

What is she doing? What could she ever say to repair the rift between them? She turned her back on Libitania; more so than just not talking to her for years, but turned her back completely in the sense that whatever was left between them was now gone. At least, she thought it was before. But after learning the truth, she could still feel something there.

Something so small and so . . . powerless, that it risks going out, like a simple flame of a candle.

The loss Libby felt, the stillness with which she watches Diamond – it was all her fault.

Libby is suddenly turning away, ready to leave, and Diamond lunges forward, daring to grab the skirt of her dress to stop her. She squeaks Libby's name with urgency.

The assassin, her friend, turns to her, and the sorrow etched on her face – even beneath her veil – Diamond can see it clearly, and see the viscous scar across her eye. It's healed mildly, but still cuts clean through her eyebrow and down to her cheek.

They stand there, quiet. Diamond holding the skirt of Libby's mourning dress like a child. This is the closest they've been together since . . . since the incident on the emperor's ship.

Gods, it seems like ages ago since then. How different girls they were.

"Libby," Diamond pleas again, her lip quivering and eyes watering.

Standing with trained and honed stillness, Libby watches her. Her face in the pane of moonlight make her look so much older, and . . . more beautiful.

Then, with the slightest of hand, Libby lifts her and brushes it over Diamond's and then entangles their fingers for the briefest of seconds, but it felt like ages as they held each other. To observing eyes, it would seem like Libby is removing Diamond's hand from her dress, but Diamond knew what it meant.

The skirts of the dress fall from her grasp and Libby turns away, heading down the steps of Jorrvaskr. She watches until Libby is past the Gildergreen. She wants Diamond to follow.

Diamond looks around and finds Farkas watching them, his stare as dangerous as a lion. He witnessed the event, so it was no surprise that he nodded his head and gave a gentle jerk of his chin.

Diamond tightens the grip of her hands and hisses as she remembers she is holding the last fragment of Wuuthrad. A small sliver of blood wells on her palm. She quickly wipes it off and hurries up the steps to Skyforge. She nearly bumps into Eorlund, skidding to a stop.

"You're back." He chimes, his eyebrows high from her sudden burst.

"Yeah, um, I have Kodlak's fragment." She stammers.

"Thank you, my dear. Your Shield-Siblings have withdrawn to the Underforge. I think they're waiting for you."

Swearing profusely in her mind, Diamond hurries down the steps towards the Underforge. It'll be alright. Libby had to have known Diamond would have, other priorities to handle before she could just leave. Perhaps she'll leave clues, a trail for Diamond to follow.

The rest of the members are in the hall by now, so Diamond flies down the steps and shoves her way into the Underforge. Carefully she slows herself as she jumps into a conversation.

"The old man had one wish before he died," says Vilkas. "and he didn't get it. It's as simple as that."

"Being moonborn is not so much of a curse as you might think Vilkas." Aela retorts.

"That's fine for you, but he wanted to be clean." Vilkas growls. "He wanted to meet Isgramor and know the glories of Sovngarde. But all that was taken from him."

"And you avenged him. Libitania did as well."

"But Kodlak didn't care for vengeance." Farkas chimes.

"No, Farkas, he didn't," Diamond suddenly interjects. "And that's not what this is about." She approaches the fountain, the very fountain at which she earned her beastblood. It's still stained with blood, only now it makes her feel sick. "We should be honoring Kodlak, no matter our own thoughts on the blood. It's his wish."

Aela sighs. "You're right. It's what he wanted." She sniffles. "And he deserved to have it."

"Kodlak used to speak of a way to cleanse his soul, even in death" Vilkas breaths. "You know the legends of the Tomb of Isgramor."

"There the souls of Harbingers will heed the call of northern steel." Diamond mumbles, loud enough for all to hear, even when she had meant it for herself.

"But we can't even enter the tomb without Wuuthrad, and it's in pieces like it has been for a thousand years." Aela reminds.

"And dragons were just stories." A voice chimes behind them. All heads turn, some surprise to find Eorlund standing in the shadows of the forge. "And elves once ruled Skyrim. Just because something is, doesn't mean it must be."

The air stiffens with shock and surprise as they behold the slim, engraved handle poking out over his shoulder.

"A blade is a weapon, a tool. Tools are meant to be broken, and repaired."

"Is that . . . did you repair the blade?" Vilkas asks with suppressed excitement.

"This is the first time I've had all of the pieces thanks to our Shield-Sister, here." He motions to Diamond. With honed skill and years of work, Eorlund slips the blade off of his back with one and, spinning it skillfully between before stomping the hilt into the ground. The glorious axe blade glimmers. "The flames of Kodlak shall fuel the rebirth of Wuuthrad, and now it will take you to meet him once more."

Eorlund approaches Diamond and holds the weapon out to her. Diamond almost takes a step back.

"As the one Kodlak borne most honorable, I think you should be the one to carry Wuuthrad into battle."

Even with the honor that comes with wielding the blade, even with the blade being a signature weapon of the greatest Harbingers of the Companions, Diamond almost didn't want to hold it. Not when it was the very weapon that had taken so many lives of the Snow Elves.

Still for honor of Eorlund's work, and for Kodlak, she takes the blade, slinging it along with her glass Warhammer, Kodlak's personal gift to her.

"The rest of you, prepare to journey to the Tomb of Isgramor. For Kodlak."

The rest of the members of the Circle nod in agreement and exit the forge to prep their weapons. Diamond manages to catch up to Eorlund and grab his shoulder. "Listen, Eorlund, I have something to do before we leave, if that's all right."

"Of course. Just make sure to meet up with the members before leaving for the tomb."

"Yes sir."

Quickly bowing and nodding her head, Diamond hurries down the steps and quickly follows the path she last saw Libby.

As she expected, there's a small gold coin left by the fountain in the market square, then down by the main gates. Not wanting to let this go, even if things are already hopeless, Diamond has felt more hopeful for this than anything before. That has to mean something.

So she picks up the coins and follows the trail.