(AN: Lol, I thought my little "It was not over, it would never be over" was an indication that the last chapter was NOT the end. I've been leaving hints about closing this story off at 56 chapters, since it would be half that of The Dragonborn and the Lioness. And, of course, since we had a prologue, we need an epilogue [finally found a good place to put the Reunification sub-plot culmination]. So yes, we're not yet done)
(Ugh, watching vampire movies [good/mediocre ones, not Twilight] makes me want to talk about Serana and Babette in the Dark Brotherhood for another spin-off story. But i'm still on the fence about that one, as far as themes and direction go. I also wanted to mention in the last chapter why Eirik suddenly lost his voice and was spewing blood when he tried to Shout again. It wasn't so much the Divines leveling the playing field, but that the Thu'um is, after all, the Dragon Tongue. It takes years and years of discipline for the Greybeards to do what they can do, but for someone like Eirik, though Dragonborn, he is still mortal. Spamming Dragon Shouts isn't an option since it would do permanent physical damage to his throat and vocal chords. That's my "in lore" reason why it doesn't work.)
The Dragonborn Emperor
When Eirik awoke, he saw Ralof looking down at him. He wondered for a moment if it had all been a dream, but that quickly faded. They were on a cart, indeed, but they were now halted and there were no tall pines around them. In fact, he could hear the warbling of the swamp creatures. He groaned; just as bad as Helgen, if not worse, they were back in Hjaalmarch.
"There you are!" Ralof greeted. "I was a-feared something had happened to you."
"What happened?" Eirik groaned.
"We won," Ralof stated proudly. "The Dominion garrison in Solitude has been defeated."
"I..." Eirik gasped. "I don't remember it. Tell me what happened."
"Oh, it was a bloody battle," Ralof replied. "I daresay, every one of the Sons of Skyrim have made a name for themselves after this one. There was intense fighting through the streets of Solitude: the elves refused to surrender, though we had pushed them out of Castle Dour. Finally they threw down their arms and surrendered. We all laughed at their cowardice, but then that dog Crixus told us why: the Imperial fleet was anchored in the bay."
So they arrived, Eirik mused.
"So why are we here?" he asked at last.
"That dog Crixus sent you away for a while," Ralof replied. "He said that there was something you needed."
"What is that?"
"We'll have to walk the rest of the way to see that," Ralof retorted. "Come on, or we'll be benighted before we reach the camp!"
"Alright, alright," Eirik groaned as he pushed himself up out of the cart. As he was rising, he saw, lying upon the floor of the cart, something wrapped in a crimson cloth and bound with golden cord: tucked safely into that cord was a note which bore this cryptic message
Try not to drop this.
-S.C
Underneath the cloth, Eirik saw, cleaned from his furious battle, the bearded head of Wuuthrad.
As Ralof led Eirik through the swamps, he tried to piece together his memories. He remembered walking under the stifling heat of the shields on his way up to the gates of Solitude, but then the horrible images returned as well: dead bodies littering the streets of Solitude like leaves in a forest, ashen bonfire pits filled with small skulls, Lydia dying in his arms, Thelgil's thin, gaunt face taunting him through the shadows. Then he recalled the lightning and a high-domed Altmer head, permanently fixated in an expression of disbelief, falling to the ground. Whatever had happened next was anyone's guess, including his own. Ralof didn't know, for he had been sent to the battle before the Blue Palace.
After an hour of walking through the marshes, Ralof and Eirik arrived in the old siege camp, where they had spent many long days in the squelching mud and watery fens of Hjaalmarch. Straightway his eyes sought out the carriage, which had not been moved from its original position. Sitting out in front of the carriage was old Perla One-Eye, the only Firstborn who had not fought in the Siege of Solitude. As Eirik approached the carriage, she rose up to greet him.
"There you are!" she returned. "I've been wondering if you would show up. That Imperial Commander said that the battle was won, but there hasn't been any word from you in five days."
"Yes, the siege is won," Eirik nodded. "But what has happened here? Where are..."
"I don't know," Perla returned. "Whether to wish you well or drink to you or slap the shit out of you."
"What?"
"You should have been here."
"I was busy winning the war," Eirik replied. "And what do you mean..."
"It's Mjoll," Perla replied.
"Has something happened?" Eirik asked, his heart sinking. Had he won victory at great loss only to find that greater loss awaited him now?
"I've never seen such a strong woman," Perla began. "I mean, I had three children and each time it felt like an axe-blade pulling my..." Eirik cleared his throat. "She never made a sound until the very last moment. There wasn't even that much blood."
"And the baby?"
"See for yourself," Perla rose up and opened the door of the carriage. Eirik climbed inside and saw Lucia lying asleep on one side of the carriage. Pulling apart the curtain that had been set up, he saw Mjoll lying at the far end of the carriage room, cradling in her arms a wee little baby with tiny strands of dark hair upon an otherwise bald head. As Eirik knelt besides Mjoll, she opened her eyes and smiled.
"Is it done?" she asked.
Eirik nodded. "I'm sorry I wasn't here."
"Oh, don't mind Perla," Mjoll shook her head. "She kept insisting that you should be here. I didn't mind: we both had our battles to win. You've given us a world to live in peace..." She held up the baby. "...and in return, I give you your firstborn daughter."
"It's a girl?"
"That's usually what daughter means," Mjoll chuckled. "Did you doubt my word? A mother knows what child it is that moves within her womb, and so it was with me."
Eirik reached down and caressed the baby's forehead, softer than any silk he had ever felt. The eyes were closed, and the tiny squished face, though it would seem ugly to some, held a measure of innocence in it. Eirik could feel tears welling up in his eyes as he thought of the small skulls in the ash-piles in Solitude.
"What's wrong?" Mjoll asked.
"It's nothing," Eirik sighed, wiping the tears out of his eyes.
"You don't have to hide it from me," Mjoll replied.
Eirik sighed. "The things I saw up there. Things...no one should ever have to see. Maybe soon I will tell you, but not now. Now..." He looked back down at the little girl in Mjoll's arms. "...now, I want to enjoy this moment with you and with our child."
"She still needs a name," Mjoll returned.
"Lydia," Eirik said, looking at the little dark strands of hair.
"Won't that get confusing, what with your huscarl?" Mjoll asked, giggling slightly.
"She's dead," Eirik replied grimly. "She fell in battle during the siege. I want to honor her."
Even as he said those words, Eirik regretted them. He knew that there had been some quiet animosity between Mjoll and Lydia, and more-so since Lydia had known him before he knew Mjoll - though whether Mjoll knew this or not, Eirik did not know. Furthermore, mentioning Lydia's name again brought back her dead form to mind and how he had failed to save her.
"If that's what you want," Mjoll returned.
"No," Eirik interjected. "Please, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."
"What's wrong?"
Eirik closed his eyes. "She saved my life. Lydia saved my life and that's what killed her. I tried to save her, but I couldn't."
"I'm sorry," Mjoll replied, placing her other hand on Eirik's cheek. "I know what it's like to lose one close to me. If it's all the same, we don't have to call her Lydia."
Eirik nodded wordlessly. "What would you like to call her?"
"I don't know," Mjoll returned. "Something strong. The name of a warrior."
"What about Mathilde after the shield-maiden from the lay of Ragnar the Red?"
Mjoll laughed and shook her head. "I want our daughter to have her own stories. We'll give her her own name."
"A name should mean something," Eirik added. "Something not so narrow or exclusive. My name means 'eternal king', which is ironic because that is what I never want to be. We should give her a name that will always be appropriate."
"My name means 'crusher'," Mjoll giggled. "Appropriate for how strong my parents said I was when I was young."
"Wait a minute," Eirik interjected. "Let's name her after your mother."
"She doesn't look like a Halgerdr," Mjoll replied. "What about your mother?"
"Signy?" Eirik asked. "Maybe."
"Wait," Mjoll said, a smile appearing on her face. "I have it!"
"What?"
"Sigrun," she returned.
"Yes," Eirik nodded. "It means 'victory', which is what we have this day...and every day after this." Though he doubted if Mjoll knew about his defeat, it warmed his heart that she had suggested this name.
"Sigrun Eiriksdottir," Mjoll said, looking down at the baby in her arms. Just then, little Sigrun opened her wee little mouth in a toothless yawn.
Eirik chuckled. "She's tired of hearing us talking."
"Aww," Mjoll pouted. "But I do enjoy it when we talk. We haven't had the chance to do so lately."
Eirik nodded, but did not respond. He leaned down and kissed baby Sigrun's forehead, then climbed up onto the bench where Mjoll lay. He was still aching from his battle and wanted to rest. It would be the first time in a many long count of months where he would sleep without fear of what might happen. Resting his head against Mjoll's shoulder, he finally drifted into deep slumber.
While Mjoll and Sigrun slept soundly, without a single care in the world, Eirik's sleep was plagued with nightmares. He found himself back in the streets of Solitude, seeing Mjoll's body among the slain, with her stomach cut open. He closed his eyes and planted himself where he stood, but he found that his eyes would not respond to his commands and that he was being drawn towards the pile of ash and tiny skulls. Then he saw Lydia fall again before his eyes, and Thelgil, risen from the dead, coming after him with lightning sprouting from his finger-tips. Yet this time Eirik's will broke and he did not rise.
With a sudden lurch, he rose up from his disturbed slumber in a cold sweat. Looking around, he saw Mjoll and Sigrun sleeping peacefully besides him, alive and well. He thanked the Divines that they were alive and that all he had seen had only been a dream. He then readied himself to go back to sleep when there was a knock at the door of the carriage. Quietly he removed himself from the seat and walked over to the door and opened it: there waiting for him in the darkness, with a torch in his hand, was Torgrim.
"Crixus wants you up at Solitude now," Torgrim said. "We're to leave right away."
"Can't it wait?" Eirik asked. "I just got here and my wife's given birth to our firstborn!"
To Eirik's surprise, Torgrim's countenance fell. "Gods be praised. But Crixus was insistent: your presence is required at Solitude."
"You were there with us," Eirik retorted. "You saw what was there. Do you want to go back to that?"
"No!" Torgrim snapped. "But I'm following my orders, and I suggest you do the same."
Eirik sighed, shaking his head, but finally relented. Without giving him time to gird him his gear, Torgrim took Eirik to his horse and took off into the night. They rode on the rest of that night and by dawn they had arrived at the edge of the swamps. The rest of the day was then spent going thither to Dragon Bridge and then up the great cliffs.
When they arrived at Solitude, it was late in the evening. The sun was barely visible in the west towards High Rock, but there was still enough light on the city itself for Eirik to see. The first thing he noticed were the walls: the bodies of the dead were gone. There were also no dead bodies before the gates either. As they reached the gatehouse, Eirik saw the red banners of Solitude hanging from the gate and Imperial patrols upon the walls. Under the gate they went and came at last to the city square, where the bodies of the dead were being piled en masse in great heaps by the Imperial soldiers. Some of the buildings were also being repaired and Eirik saw those few who had survived the Thalmor's purges helping the soldiers with the repairs.
Torgrim turned his horse southward, towards the eastern-most quarter of the city, where many of the more noble houses stood as well as the Bard's College and the Blue Palace. Here the bodies were still being piled up, but many were still lying in the streets. On the back of the horse, Eirik heard Torgrim retch as though he would vomit upon seeing the great number of dead. He did not begrudge him this nor did he ridicule him for being weak-stomached.
They finally arrived before the doors of the Blue Palace. There he saw Crixus standing with Governor Rikke, Esbern and Jarl Elisif. Before them were several Thalmor officers with their hands in chains, being led around the fields of corpses about the entrance of the Blue Palace. As Torgrim dismounted and Eirik with him, they saw that Crixus was insistent to the guards who led the Thalmor that the prisoners see everything.
"I've brought the Dragonborn, sir," Torgrim stated.
Crixus seemed preoccupied as he was gazing at the bodies and, to Eirik's horror, another pile of tiny skulls blackened and covered in ash. When Crixus finally acknowledged that Eirik had arrived, he gestured for Eirik to stand with him and Governor Rikke. The young Nord looked disapprovingly at Eirik, though Eirik was watching the elves Crixus had apparently let live.
"What precisely are we supposed to be looking at?" one of them asked.
Crixus did not even speak. He walked over to the elf, head and shoulders above him, and punched him in the balls. The tall elf collapsed before Crixus' feet, whimpering and clutching his family jewels in agony.
"Wrong answer!" Crixus finally shouted.
"I see nothing here," another elf stated.
Crixus slowly walked over to the elf, punched him in the gut, and then, taking a wad of his silvery-white hair in his fist, dragged the elf over to where the bodies lay.
"What's that then, smart arse?" he retorted. "Do you see that? What about those ashes?" He turned the elf towards the ash-covered pile of skulls. "Do you see that? Your friends told me you heated your fires during the siege with them. I know you see them."
"They lied, human," the Thalmor sneered in defiant retort. "There is nothing there."
In one swift move, Crixus buried a knife in the elf's side, then tore it out and left him there to clutch at his side as he turned to the men.
"They haven't seen enough," he said. "I want you to take them up and down the streets. No one is to burn any bodies or bury any bones or ashes until all of these yellow motherfuckers see what they've done!"
"Crixus..."
"What?"
"Why am I here?" Eirik asked.
"They killed your people," Crixus said. "You should have a say in their judgment, since you've named yourself the protector of the people of Skyrim. Isn't that what your so-called 'Sons of Skyrim' are all about?"
"Kill them all," Eirik retorted. "Every last one of them."
"Typical Nord response," Rikke stated. "Sir, we should seek for a more sensible approach. Something more diplomatic that would show the Dominion that we..."
Eirik punched Rikke in the face while she was yet speaking.
"Diplomacy be damned!" he retorted. "Sensibility be damned! These yellow-skinned bastards killed women and children, and this is how they respond?"
"Their soldiers told me what happened," Crixus stated. "The officers deny everything they've said."
"They deserve to die," Eirik retorted. "Officers and those under their command."
"Eirik..."
"We need to show the Dominion that we're not to be fucked with," Eirik retorted. "Whether you want to be Emperor or not, you need to show them that they can't walk over you."
"Even your Tiber Septim made treaties," Crixus replied.
"Then don't do as he did," Eirik shot back. "Since you're so keen to avoid him like the plague."
Crixus leaned in and, in a hushed tone, asked Eirik: "How can I escape the Septim dynasty if it's in my fucking blood?"
"I thought you didn't believe that," Eirik replied, one eyebrow cocking upward on his forehead.
"I don't know what the fuck to believe," Crixus retorted. "Lethia's prophecy became true, and I've done what nobody could ever do since Reman Cyrodiil..." He sighed. "...and Tiber Septim."
"Then do what needs to be done!"
Crixus nodded, then leaned in, whispering into his ear. "Follow me." Crixus then turned to Rikke, who was wiping blood off of her nose. "Kill everyone who denies what they see."
Esbern, Elisif, Eirik and Torgrim followed Crixus up into the Blue Palace. As they were making their way inside, Eirik asked Crixus what had been pestering his mind since he stepped into the gates of Solitude.
"How many?"
"How many what?"
"How many are dead?"
"About five hundred of our men," Crixus stated.
"I mean of the people of Solitude!"
Crixus hung his head, rubbing his hands upon his eyes for a while before finally responding. "We're not sure."
"What do you mean you're not sure?"
"Thelgil said he'd kill one person every ten minutes," Crixus began. "That was on the tenth of this month, about eight days ago. By my calculations, no fewer than a thousand people died in just the last week of our siege. What's worse is that they've had the city of Solitude since the first day of Midyear, so who really knows how many dead there are. And they left the bodies out in the streets, so half of the town is sick with fever and might not survive. I'm having my healers tend to them, but that's also why I've ordered the bodies to be piled up: we're to burn them."
"I thought you abhorred Nord traditions," Eirik retorted.
"I do," Crixus returned. "But there will be no end of sickness if we let them rot and there aren't enough crypts in Solitude's Hall of the Dead to accommodate everyone."
"I only care about two people," Eirik said. "Galmar and Lydia. Where are they?"
"I've kept their bodies with those of our men," Crixus replied. "They're in the courtyard of Castle Dour. After we're done..."
"I want to see them first!" Eirik retorted.
"As you wish," Crixus groaned. "Just don't take too damn long."
Eirik made his way from the doors of the Blue Palace straight down the high street towards the second entrance to the courtyard of Castle Dour. As he passed inside, he saw an elderly Nord walking among the dead bodies, holding one hand over the body and another with palm upward in supplication to the Divines. As Eirik passed him by, he heard words that conjured up in his mind visions from Helgen.
"As we commend thy soul to Aetherius," the old Nord said. "Blessings of the Eight and One Divines upon thee, for thou art the salt of Nirn, our beloved home. Eternal rest grant upon this soul, O Arkay, and let thy light shine upon his face. May he rest in peace."
Turning away from the old man, Eirik gazed upon the bodies. There were Bretons and Imperials and many Nords - for this was still Skyrim and Nords made up the majority of the Imperial garrisons in Skyrim - and here and there he saw the simple gear of the Sons of Skyrim, those whom he had lead into battle and to their deaths. Those who died during the third assault on the gates were already bound, with an emerald cloth draped upon their body. Looking up, Eirik saw the entrance to the keep of Castle Dour: hanging over the door was Thelgil's head.
It was with surprise that Eirik saw Rikke hobbling up the causeway leading to the entrance of the keep. Carefully he picked his way through the bodies, coming up behind her and walking up the causeway to the keep's door. There he saw her leaning over a body draped in a wide green cloth, more like a blanket. The Nord woman then rose to her feet and looked eastward, giving Eirik the chance to move over to the door without being seen as she turned around and hobbled back down the causeway.
Here Eirik also knelt, examining what had brought Rikke here. There were two bodies lying under a great green cloth which, as Eirik saw it now, was more of a banner than a blanket. It was made of green cloth with a raven sewn in white onto the fabric. Upon further inspection, Eirik saw that the raven's sewn form was cleverly constructed of runes sewn into the cloth in white thread, ancient Nordic runes, with each name of the Firstborn of the Sons of Skyrim written thereupon in the runes, starting with Angrim and ending with Yrsarald.
With trembling hand Eirik lifted the banner off of the form nearest to the keep's door and to himself. He saw Lydia lying there, her face cold and pale like death but cleaned of all the blood. Her eyes were closed and, if he knew not, he would have thought that she was merely sleeping. Lifting the banner off her body a little more, Eirik saw that she was still clothed in the steel armor she wore when they first met, what she wore when they fought Alduin and what she was wearing when she died. Upon her breast lay her sword, parallel to her lying form. Beneath her was the shield she had sworn into Eirik's service almost a year ago.
"Farewell, Lydia," Eirik said to his fallen huscarl. "My huscarl...and...my friend."
The banner was now removed enough that Eirik could see another form that shocked him. The body wore the fur and leather of a bear-friend, and the hair was the same dark-gray as he had remembered it, but the face was not the face of Galmar Stone-Fist. The eyes were sunken in, the skin was sagging around the temples and flies were buzzing about his mouth. Eirik swatted them away as he looked at his marshal. He had been dead longer than Lydia and, Eirik assumed, little was done to preserve his body the way Lydia's had been.
"Goodbye, old man," Eirik said to Galmar. "I'll never forget what you taught me."
As he reached for the banner to roll it back over their bodies, he saw something lying on Galmar's chest. There was, of course, the haft of his battle-axe, but on top of the haft was something else: the hammer-shaped form of an amulet of Talos. Eirik wondered why there would be two amulets of Talos on Galmar, for one was still tied about his neck, which Eirik recognized from the very first moment he met him. Then he remembered what he saw but a few moments ago and that he had also seen Rikke sometimes grip something close to her neck betimes. It seemed implausible to his mind, that one who so loved the Empire and all of its beliefs would secretly worship the Ninth Divine, the one outlawed by the Empire's White-Gold Concordant, and yet someone had put an amulet of Talos on Galmar's body and it wasn't him.
When Eirik finally reached the Blue Palace again, evening was falling about the city of Solitude. It was the first time he visited the Blue Palace. It bore a great resemblance to the ancient architecture of Castle Volkihar, what with its over-hung halls lined with pillars with arches connecting them in between. There was also Third Era Colovian influence, in that it was built like one of the great castles of Cyrodiil from that time. There was no austere stone-work like the Palace of the Kings or carvings of the great names of Nordic legends. Whereas the Palace of the Kings in Windhelm evoked in Eirik a sense of the grandeur and magnitude of the ancient Atmorans - not for naught was it called the City of Ysgramor - the Blue Palace was relatively modern and it brought to his mind the high courts of the gentry of Cyrodiil, where Crixus must have learned all he knew. Looking down at himself, clad in rough brown leather breeches and a faded green shirt, he seemed very rural compared to the palace before him.
Passing inside, he heard voices echoing from above a grand staircase of white marble. Walking up there he saw a throne room smaller than the grandiose stone hall of the Palace of the Kings. While it was smaller, it was very bright and seemed no less regal than the high-vaulted halls of Windhelm or Whiterun. At the back of the room, upon a two-tiered rounded dais facing the staircase, was a high-backed chair with red cushions upon it. This was the throne of Solitude and upon that throne sat the petite form of Elisif the Fair, Jarl of Solitude. She still had that wide-eyed look of being overwhelmed that he saw in her when first he met her at High Hrothgar during the peace summit. Now there was sadness in her big blue eyes, sadness over her city being blooded and her people being slaughtered. To the right of her throne, from where Eirik stood, upon the second tier, was a smaller chair in which sat Crixus, still dressed in his Imperial legate armor. On the other side of the room stood Torgrim and, beside him, Esbern sat in a small chair as well.
The moment Elisif laid eyes upon Eirik, her eyes changed from overwhelmed and sorrowful to filled with anger.
"Why do you bring this traitor before me?" she asked, rising from her throne in protest. "He's as bad as those elves who killed my people! How could you bring him here, my Servius?"
"Her Servius?" Eirik asked.
"Shut up, Eirik!" Crixus spat at Eirik, then turned to Elisif. "My lady, the Dragonborn is here under my invitation."
"But he is a traitor!" Elisif repeated.
"It is true," Crixus said. "He sided against the Empire, and against you, and joined himself to Ulfric Stormcloak's little rebellion. But now the rebellion is over..."
"And he started one of his own!" Elisif retorted. "I know all about the Sons of Skyrim, how they drove the Black-Briar family out of Riften like cattle, or how they beat Siddgeir until he surrendered Falkreath in tears and pleas!"
"That last one wasn't true," Eirik pointed out.
"Silence!" Elisif shouted.
"Were it not for them, for him," Crixus said. "We would still be fighting to take back this city. Also, this is the man who killed Thelgil. You owe him for the salvation of Solitude as much as you owe me."
"I pray the gods not that much," Elisif stated as she returned to her seat.
"Why am I here?" Eirik asked.
"I would like to know that as well, Servius," Elisif added, turning to Crixus.
"How come she gets to call you by your given name," Eirik asked. "But everyone else must call you by your surname?"
"Because she's the High Queen of Skyrim!" Crixus retorted. "She can call me whatever she wishes."
"High Queen?" Eirik asked. "Oh yes, I remember. The false moot, it was already decided. Your Empire has won, so they place the puppet on our throne."
"Watch your tongue!" Elisif retorted, rising up once again. "I am no man's puppet!"
"My lady, please sit down," Crixus said, to which Elisif promptly sat down. Eirik held up his hand to hide a snicker that escaped his lips. Clearing his throat, Crixus then began. "We're here to decide what to do with what's left of the Thalmor hierarchy in Skyrim."
"What do you mean?" Eirik asked.
"Once the fleet arrived," Crixus stated. "I had Petruvius send a cohort to the Thalmor Embassy. I think we both know where that is." He winked at Eirik, then continued. "It seems there was more than one rat left in Haafingar, and we've brought the last one here." He turned to Elisif. "By your leave, of course."
"Bring her before me," Elisif commanded.
Momentarily, Eirik saw Delphine and Ragni carry none other than Elenwen, the former Thalmor Ambassador, in chains before the seat of the Jarl of Solitude. Eirik stepped back as the two Blades placed Elenwen before the Jarl of Solitude. Delphine presently approached Elenwen, her long-sword in her hand.
"Kneel," she said.
"Don't you have some drunken Nords to tend to in that inn of yours?" Elenwen retorted haughtily.
"Insolent little b*tch!" Delphine retorted, raising her gloved hand back as though she would strike Elenwen.
"No!" Esbern interjected. "Delphine, stay your blade."
"But she..."
"She will answer for her crimes here and now," Esbern said. "The time for fighting is done...for now."
Delphine put away her sword, but kept spiteful eyes glared upon Elenwen, who stood before the Jarl as though she were a queen, brought to trial by lords who fancied themselves her equals.
"Elenwen, former ambassador of the Aldmeri Dominion and agent of the Thalmor ruling class," Elisif began. "You have been accused of conspiracy against the Empire and the Throne of Skyrim by the use of your agents to harass and terrorize my people. You have also been accused of sending a Thalmor agent to the city of Winterhold, which recently suffered grievous damage under mysterious circumstances. Lastly, you are accused of knowingly aiding High Justicar Thelgil in the slaughter of nearly five thousand citizens of Solitude. How do you answer?"
Elenwen laughed a throaty, mocking laugh, with a smile upon her face. "I do not recognize any of these charges. Everything I have done has been to uphold the White-Gold Concordant in this province, doing no more or less. Thelgil acted alone and was not party to the Aldmeri Dominion. But what makes me laugh so is that you say that he slaughtered five thousand citizens of Solitude: there are not even that many people in all of Skyrim!"
"Delphine?" Esbern spoke.
"Yes, sir?"
"Now you may strike her."
Delphine punched Elenwen across the jaw, then drew out her long-sword and placed it to Elenwen's long, golden neck.
"Why should I recognize any of these trumped charges," Elenwen asked. "Brought before me by the so-called justice of these victorious war-mongers before me? You say that I have conspired against the Throne of Skyrim and the Empire..." She laughed again. "There is no Throne of Skyrim! Your little moot of Jarls hasn't decided on an heir to the throne, and they never will. And what of the Empire? Who stands here to represent them?"
"I do," Crixus stated.
Elenwen laughed again. "You? You're nothing but a traitor yourself, a sleeper agent employed by us."
"That's what you'd like to believe, isn't it?" Crixus chuckled. "But the time for secrets is over." He rose up to his feet and approached Elenwen.
"As descendant, father to son and mother to daughter, of Martin Septim," he said. "I, Servius Crixus, do represent the Empire of Tamriel as her Emperor."
Elenwen laughed again. "You? The Emperor of Tamriel? You must be drunk. There was no heir to the Septim dynasty. It died out centuries ago."
"Look, Elenwen!" Crixus said, gesturing to Esbern, Delphine and Ragni. "Do you see the armor? Do you recognize their weapons?" He then lifted from beneath his armor something dark and red with a skull upon it, which Eirik had never seen before. Just as soon as it had appeared, Crixus stowed it away beneath his armor.
"Nothing ever dies," Crixus continued. "You may hunt us to the brink of extermination, you may attempt to weed us out through treachery and subterfuge, but we can never be wholly extinguished."
"A Breton, two idiot Nords and a piece of stained metal?" laughed Elenwen. "Is this your grand proof, to make me fear what may have survived? You'll have to do much better than that, Crixus."
"May I strike her again, sir?" Delphine asked.
"No!" both Esbern and Crixus said as one. The younger of the two men turned back to Elenwen.
"We both know," he said. "That there are more than five thousand people in Skyrim. Why, in the Battle of Heljarchen Valley just last year, the Stormcloaks alone raised a force of four thousand against the Legion's six. Do you honestly believe that there was no one left in Skyrim on that very day?"
"Your point being?"
"My lady," Crixus said, turning to Elisif. "Speak your peace."
"On the first day of Midyear," Elisif began. "Dominion soldiers led by High Justicar Thelgil took control of the Blue Palace. Since then, there have been rumors of disappearing people throughout the city of Solitude. When the siege began, I was forced to watch in horror as six bodies were strung from the windows of my room alone in one hour."
"The White-Gold Concordant," Crixus said. "States that, for the cooperation of the undersigned with the above terms, 'no host, whether great or small, of the Aldmeri Dominion shall enter the sovereign lands of the Empire of Tamriel and shall not wage war with the Empire or the peoples of the Empire, whether openly or in secret.' This you have violated..."
"Did not the Empire violate the terms of the White-Gold Concordant," Elenwen asked. "When they let Ulfric Stormcloak enforce the worship of the false god Talos upon the city of Markarth?"
Crixus laughed. "That's your argument? 'We have the right to break the treaty because you broke it first?'"
"What about the bands of Thalmor," Eirik interjected. "Terrorizing my people with imprisonment, loss of life, liberty and property?"
"Those were merely there to enforce the White-Gold Concordant," Elenwen stated. "As was permitted us under the terms of the treaty."
"Personally," Crixus said, turning to Elenwen. "I couldn't give two shites about Talos, but there is something that your Thalmor - not Thelgil - have done, while under your supervision, I might add."
"And what horrible thing is this, pray tell?"
"According to my friend, the spell-sword Scipio Marcurio," Crixus began. "About the fourth day of Rain's Hand, last year, he encountered Ancano, who openly declared his affiliation with the Aldmeri Dominion and his association with the Thalmor embassy in Skyrim. Do you know this man..." He leaned in to Elenwen's face. "And please, don't lie."
"Ancano was indeed employed by us," Elenwen replied.
"It is also known, under this self-same witness, and myself," Crixus continued. "That on the eleventh day of Midyear, last year, your Ancano was found trying to tap a very powerful magical artifact: his tampering with it caused the eastern Pale and most of the hold of Winterhold to become littered with magical...anomalies which have plagued travelers there since then, endangering more lives than merely a few believers in Talos."
"Ancano operated alone," Elenwen said, rolling her eyes. "The Dominion had no part in his..."
"Well, I was there," Crixus stated. "And I remembered not one agent but two! One operating as an inquisitor and the other as his back-up. Now tell me, what part of the White-Gold Concordant allows the Dominion, or its Thalmor agents, to infiltrate the College of Winterhold, attempt to steal and use a powerful et'Adan artifact - beyond the power of the aedra or the daedra - which then cost the lives of many in the College of Winterhold, including Arch-Mage Savos Aren?"
"I had no knowledge of this," Elenwen replied.
"Liar!" Crixus shouted. "You knew what was happening. How else did Ancano have back-up if not from you? There was no place for him to be hiding back up in the city or College of Winterhold."
"Then since you seem to know the answers already, tell me, oh conquering Emperor, what is the truth of the matter?"
"The truth," Crixus said, taking Elenwen's bait. "Is that you knew what was going on in Saarthal, what was found there. You ordered Ancano to secure the Eye of Magnus and have it brought back to the Summerset Isles to be used to achieve godhood!"
"My, what an imagination you have! Are you sure you haven't been on skooma lately?"
Crixus nodded to Delphine, who struck Elenwen again.
"And these bodies in the streets of Solitude," he continued. "These are no coincidences, no unrelated series of unfortunate events. You and your 'Lord Commander' have been planning this: you wanted to go about it the sensible way, by using the Eye of Magnus to return your people to Aetherius to be with the Eight. Thelgil wanted to do the more extreme solution by eradicating humans from the face of Nirn!"
"Thelgil was a firebrand, even on Aldmeris," Elenwen replied. "And I cannot be blamed for any other actions. I was under house arrest in the embassy on Thelgil's orders. He trusted no one but himself."
"I know when Thelgil first arrived in Skyrim, Elenwen," Crixus retorted. "I know because I was there, I met him. I tried to reason with him, but he...he had some sort of an agenda against our friend the Dragonborn." He gestured towards Eirik. "But that was a long time ago, last year, in fact. You weren't under house arrest, you were there with me."
"You have no proofs of this," Elenwen stated calmly.
"This is pointless!" Eirik shouted, stepping up to where Crixus was interrogating Elenwen. "Trying to get a confession out of her is like talking to you, Crixus: nothing but banal contradiction!"
"I was about to say the same thing about you," Crixus retorted.
"Jarl Elisif," Elenwen said, addressing the Jarl. "This drum-head trial is spurious and unnecessary. No court or moot would ever convict me of any of these farcical charges. If it is at all possible for such narrow minded humans to do, can we not drop the charade and behave like civilized mer?"
"Enough of your arrogance!" Elisif snapped. "This is Skyrim, b*tch!"
"Name-calling, how quaint and unladylike," Elenwen commented with a smirk.
"You would do well to refrain from your arrogant tone," Elisif stated. "We have the power to put you to death if you don't cooperate."
"Kill me, then," Elenwen replied. "Then we'll see how swiftly the Aldmeri Dominion responds to those who disobey the White-Gold Concordant by killing their law-abiding servants."
"Glady," Eirik retorted angrily.
"No!" Crixus interjected, steppipng in between Eirik and Elenwen. "That's precisely what she wants."
"I'm sick of treating with these damn Thalmor!" Eirik roared. "And Skyrim is weary of them as well!"
"Then why doesn't Skyrim do something about it, then?" Elenwen asked.
"That's what I'm here for!"
"No!" Crixus shot back.
"And what exactly is he here for, if I may ask?" Elisif asked Crixus.
"You're not here to mete your own justice, Eirik," Crixus said, turning from Elenwen to Eirik. "You're here to represent the people of Skyrim..."
"That's why I'm here!"
"The people, not the nobility," Crixus stated. "They have a purpose the same as we do."
"Very moving," Elenwen stated. "But there is only one entity that has any purpose in this world, and it is neither the peasants nor the nobles of Skyrim or Cyrodiil: it is the Dominion."
"Is this to become another High Hrothgar peace summit?" Esbern suddenly asked. "All deliberation and nothing ever solved?"
"Hmph," Elenwen scoffed. "Fine words, old man, but what does it have to do with these fools before me?"
"These 'fools' hold your life in their hands!" Eirik retorted. "And you will respect Esbern's words."
"Or what, 'Dragonborn'? You'll kill me?"
"Hold!" Crixus rose his hand, then gestured to Ragni and Delphine to restrain Elenwen while he walked over to Elisif's throne and whispered into her ear. The young Jarl nodded, then Crixus placed his hand on Eirik's shoulder and led him to the right of the throne, over to a hallway which Eirik had not noticed before. Once they were alone and a little away from the throne room, he opened up on him with a vengeance.
"If you interrupt me again," he threatened. "I'll leave you out of this hearing and all that that will imply."
"I won't stand for this," Eirik stated. "Here you have the chance to do some good, to be better than the Empire, to secure us a safe future, and you're doing nothing but deliberating!"
"You see my predicament, don't you?" Crixus asked. "If I kill her, it will mean open war, but she's too dangerous to keep alive!"
"Well, do something!"
"Or what?"
"Or you will have another rebellion on your hands!"
"Is that a threat?"
"What do you think?"
"Should I just kill her to satisfy your blood-lust and bring the wrath of the Dominion upon us before we are able to defend ourselves?"
Eirik wanted to reply with an immediate 'yes', but found that he could not answer according to his heart's desire. He thought of Mjoll, Lucia and now little Sigrun; he had already lost one battle against the Dominion, what if they came back again with more forces than before? Would he be able to protect Skyrim from them all alone?
"Why am I here, after all?" Eirik finally asked. "What purpose do I serve, since you seem to have everything in hand already?"
"You'll know soon enough if you keep your damn mouth shut," Crixus retorted. "Now come on, we have a job to do."
Crixus led Eirik back out of the hallway and into the throne room, where the Blades were still keeping Elenwen under their guard. Crixus then took his place as prosecutor, standing between Elisif and Elenwen. Eirik stood off to the left of the throne, opposite Crixus.
"My lady," Crixus said, turning to the Jarl. "You see this one before us. For the safety of your people, she cannot go free, but for the safety of all of us, she cannot die: but she will not be allowed to go unpunished."
"I have every confidence in your judgment," Elisif replied. "Judge her according to your will."
"My lady," Crixus continued. "If this were Cyrodiil, I would be more than willing to judge her according to my wishes. But, as you are the High Queen by right, it is your duty to pass judgment on her."
"Yes, of course," Elenwen taunted. "Let her decide my fate. The Empire wouldn't dream of telling Skyrim what it must do."
"You're really testing our patience, aren't you?" Crixus asked.
"Very well," Elisif spoke, rising up from her throne. "It is my decision as Jarl of Solitude and, as Servius Crixus has said before, as future High Queen, that Elenwen be banished from the nine holds of Skyrim."
Elenwen laughed. "Do you think that will stop me? I will be back at my old post within a year."
"I have spoken," Elisif stated, then turned to Crixus. "The rest I leave to you."
"As you wish, my lady," Crixus nodded, then turned to Elenwen. "Furthermore, to inact your banishment, you will be sent on the first ship out of here tomorrow with the tide, to set sail for the Summerset Isles, where you will be returned where you belong, alone with nothing more than the clothes upon your back."
Elenwen smirked at this. "At least you offer me a challenge, Crixus. I can respect that."
"Take her away," Crixus said to Delphine and Ragni. "Have Shaddar put her in the hold of the Red Dog."
The two Blades led Elenwen out of the palace, who still bore a confident, if not smug, smile on her face as she was led away. They led her down the stairs and passed out through the doors of the Palace, after which Crixus turned to Eirik.
"And now," Crixus continued. "We come to why I called you here tonight."
"Yes, why is that?" Eirik asked.
"As you know," Crixus began. "Your Ulfric Stormcloak is dead and the rebellion is over. Your little Sons of Skyrim movement has done more than enough damage to the safety of both Skyrim and the Empire. But..." He groaned. "...your contribution to the Siege of Solitude shall not go unrewarded. As your future Emperor, I pardon you of the crime of insurrection..."
"This is outrageous!" Elisif shouted, rising up from her throne in disgust.
"...on one condition," Crixus continued, holding up one finger. "You and your men must swear allegiance to the High Queen of Skyrim."
"The moot hasn't decided yet," Eirik replied. "Or do you admit that Elisif is your puppet, Emperor? That it is already decided that she will be High Queen whether the moot says so or not and we must merely accept it?"
"Yes," Crixus returned. "And it shall be so. Unfortunately, circumstances are most...inconvenient for the convening of the moot to occur. The Reach has returned to its rightful owners and Eastmarch is now controlled by the Dunmer. An official moot may take years to convene, if the Reachmen and the Dunmer are unwilling to accept serfdom to the Throne of Skyrim!"
"Just whose side are you on, my love?" Elisif asked.
"Quiet!" Crixus shouted.
"'Your love?'" Eirik asked. Then he too laughed.
"Shut up, just shut up!" Crixus seethed.
"Whatever happened to your loathing of Nord women?" Eirik asked. "You constantly called them fat and ignorant, as though you were an Altmer."
"You know nothing, Eirik!"
"I know that you're a liar," Eirik stated. "Everything you've said has been contradicted over and over. How am I to trust your word at all?"
"You can trust this," Crixus retorted, frustration in his eyes. "That the Empire will support Elisif as High Queen and we will bring our legions into Skyrim to protect her throne, whether or not Falkreath and the Rift are loyal. You're just going to have to like it."
"Oh, is that a fact?" Eirik asked.
"You're wasting your time, Servius," Elisif said. "He is a traitor. He won't accept any offer we might give him."
"I didn't say that," Eirik spoke up. "In fact, I know of no reason why I cannot accept your offer."
"It is no longer available," Elisif retorted.
"Hear him out!" Crixus snapped.
"As you wish," she replied, appearing a bit stunned at Crixus' harsh response.
"I've lost many good men these past few weeks," Eirik began. "And it was done to save Skyrim from the threat of the Dominion. Now you ask me to swear allegiance to you? There is only one way that I will do this..."
"Let me guess, when you're dead?" Elisif asked.
"By all the gods, your highness!" Esbern exclaimed. "Let the man talk!"
Eirik noticed how easily Elisif cowed before those who stood up to her. Part of him wanted to laugh this all off and leave Solitude for good: the High Queen was weak and could be easily controlled. But there was another part of him that wanted to be done with fighting. He had blooded himself more than enough at great cost and now he had a family to look after: he wanted it to come to a halt.
"There is only one way that I will swear my allegiance to you," Eirik said, approaching the throne. "I want you to look me in the eyes and swear to me that you will do everything in your power to protect Skyrim and her people from all threats, abroad and at home. That you will not put foreign interests ahead of those of your own people and that our people will be free to do as we have done for all the years that we have lived on this land."
"I am not answerable to you," Elisif replied.
"I am the Dragonborn!" Eirik answered sternly. "I have saved Skyrim while you and Crixus and everyone else was busy fighting among themselves. As chief captain of the Sons of Skyrim, my aim has not changed: I still fought to protect the people of Skyrim from all threats, to put their interests above those of foreigners and to keep our people free. But if I am to swear my allegiance to you, then I place the burden of responsibility on your shoulders. Protect and serve the people of Skyrim: that is all I ask. Will you do this?"
Elisif's large blue eyes shifted slightly towards Crixus, who nodded and performed a gesture which Eirik, who was gazing intently at the Jarl, did not see. Turning back to him, Elisif saw in his eyes the gravity and the enormity of the burden he was about to pass onto her shoulders: the burden of trust. He was trusting her with the well-being of the entire country, a burden which he had born through many long nights and uncertain days of which Elisif knew very little.
"It shall be done," Elisif replied firmly, her blue eyes gazing back into Eirik's brown eyes.
Eirik reached for his great-sword, but found that he had it not with him. Wuuthrad he had left behind in the carriage, since he had fallen asleep before Torgrim found him. Just then Crixus cleared his throat and pointed towards Torgrim. Turning there, Eirik saw the large Nord had upon his back a large sword which he had not noticed on the ride up to the city. It was the Great-sword of the Skaal! Crixus snapped his fingers and Torgrim gave the sword to Eirik, who held it out before Elisif.
"Then accept my sword as an oath of allegiance," Eirik said, offering Elisif his sword and coming down to one knee.
Slowly Elisif rose from off her throne and gracefully stepped down the two steps of the dais to where Eirik knelt. She placed her thin, small hand upon the blade. There was a long silence in the throne room, as if the Jarl was wrestling yet with something known only to herself.
"I accept it," she said at last. "And I pardon you of the crime of insurrection. Rise, Eirik Bjornsson; you are a free man."
Eirik sighed off the heavy burden he had been carrying for months on end, then rose to his feet. As he stood there, the Great-sword of the Skaal in his hands, Crixus approached him from behind and, placing a hand on his shoulder, spoke to him.
"Well now," he said, a smile on his face. "Now that that's settled, let's get your men inside and have them swear their allegiance as well."
"No," Eirik shook his head. "I must burn the fallen Sons of Skyrim."
"They're not to be burned until those elves have seen them!" Crixus interjected.
"They were my subordinates," Eirik returned. "And I will give them the honor due them. Afterwards, I must return to Whiterun to give back Jorrvaskr to the Companions."
"The Companions!" Elisif exclaimed. "Are you aware of what has become of the Companions?"
"What do you mean?"
"I'm afraid, my lady," Crixus spoke up. "That Eirik is a little behind the times. It comes from being banished."
"The Stone-arm Companions in Jorrvaskr are far fallen from Ysgramor's Five Hundred," Elisif began. "Rumor has it that they have become Jarl Hrongar and Justicar Eldawyn's personal assassins, killing at will even those who are not worshipers of Talos."
"How long has this been so?"
"Since Sun's Dawn."
"And you've done nothing?"
"Jarl Hrongar has made it clear," Elisif replied. "That because I am not High Queen yet, I have no authority over him and his hold."
"Your lofty Nord traditions at work, eh?" Crixus asked Eirik, turning to him with a victorious smirk on his face.
"All the more reason, your highness," Eirik stated. "For me to go there and restore honor to the high hall of Jorrvaskr. Now if you will pardon me, I must honor the fallen." Eirik turned around and walked back down the stairs towards the door; he was done with politics for more than a lifetime.
Night had fallen when Eirik left the Blue Palace and made his way to the courtyard of Castle Dour. Curiously, he walked into the keep itself, which stank of rotting flesh. Inside he saw the body of Thelgil, lying upon the floor: it had been left there since the battle. Eirik tore off the stalhrim breast-plate and gauntlets from the body: those he would take back to Lakeview Estate as tokens of his victory.
In the courtyard, Eirik asked for help from the Imperial soldiers of the Haafingar garrison to help him prepare the bodies of his comrades. Only the Nords agreed and helped clear a wide berth in the courtyard for them to be burned. Once this was done, Eirik and the soldiers built a great pyre out of wood that had been brought in from the East Empire Trading Company warehouse in the bay. Each of the Sons of Skyrim who had fallen in the battle were placed upon the grand pyre, shoulder to shoulder as though they were brothers.
In the center of the pyre, atop a mound made of straw-bales, there Eirik would place Galmar and Lydia. He removed the banner from the bodies, then lifted up Lydia's body and carried it to the pyre, where he laid it facing Whiterun, with her sword upon her breast as it had been before. Lastly he went back for the shield, placing it upon his back as he lifted Galmar's feeble, decaying body off the stones and brought him to the pyre, laying him facing Windhelm. Climbing back down, he placed the banner with the stalhrim armor and then asked for a torch. No dragon's fire would burn these dead, not when one of them had braved the dragon's breath with him in the mists of Sovngarde.
Then Eirik took the torch from the soldier and thrust it into the dry straw-bales piled about the pyre. He watched as he had when Kodlak Whitemane was committed to the flames as the bright yellow-orange tongues licked up the stalks of straw, then bade the fallen heroes their final farewell. The air was filled with the acrid stench of burning flesh and clothing as the bodies were consumed. When at last the fire reached the bodies of Galmar and Lydia, Eirik found himself muttering the words he had heard Aela speak when they committed Kodlak to the flames.
"Before the flames we grieve," he murmured. "At this great loss we weep. For the fallen we shout..."
"And for ourselves," he heard Crixus speaking behind him. "We take our leave."
"Why are you here?" Eirik asked, turning towards the newcomer.
"I leave in the morning," Crixus stated. "My ship sails at first light. I know you probably want to be getting on with whatever you have to do in Whiterun, but I want to have a private word with you, while we can."
"Is there anything more to be said between us," Eirik asked, his eyes turning back to the flames. "That hasn't been said before?"
"Yes," Crixus replied. "To start with..." He sighed the same wearied sigh that too often escaped Eirik's lips. "...an old man's apology."
"For what?" Eirik asked, too morose from the burning to make jest.
"You're a much better man than I've given you credit for," Crixus stated. "I know we've had our..." He cleared his throat. "...'differences' in the past, but I trust that we can let them stay there." He placed his hand on Eirik's shoulder. "Just don't be an arse about it and we shouldn't have any more problems, you understand?"
"Is that the best you can do?"
"At least it's something, right?" Crixus asked.
"So..." Eirik began, turning slowly towards Crixus. "...you're the Emperor now?"
"Who else is left?" Crixus asked. "Titus is dead, Potema's spirit has been returned to Aetherius, and as of now, I am the closest to the Septim dynasty that we have. It wasn't just to represent the Empire before Elenwen's trial: you..." He groaned in frustration again. "...were right."
"What?"
"You were right, there, I said it!" Crixus snapped. He then sighed again and continued. "I managed to convince you to fight together with me against the Dominion and we won the day. Now I have to make sure there's still an Empire standing: the Dominion aren't finished with us, so we have to be ready."
"Ready to do what?" Eirik asked.
"To fight," Crixus resigned. "Yes, it may yet come to that. A second Great War with the Dominion. But, gods willing, we will be ready for them."
"I thought you don't believe in the gods," Eirik retorted.
"I don't do prayers or hold with ancient prophecies or mutter old chants, if that's what you mean," Crixus replied. "But I respect them the same way I respect the daedra."
"You've been lying to me this whole time, haven't you?" Eirik asked.
"Of course," Crixus answered. "I wanted to see your reaction."
Eirik rolled his eyes, then turned back to the pyre. "So, what was that about Elis..."
"Listen," Crixus returned. "There are some things you just can't know. You weren't supposed to know about, well, you heard what Serana said." Eirik nodded. "This one is even greater. Don't ever bring it up, do you hear me?"
"Whatever you say, Your Majesty," Eirik said in grim jest. Crixus chuckled, then looked down at his feet.
"You still have it with you?"
Eirik looked down and saw Lydia's shield before his feet and the banner that had wrapped them lying under it. He had met to send the shield into the fire with her, but hesitated. Perhaps one day his daughter would bear it in her name and memory. He then looked down at the flag.
"Do you like it?" Crixus asked. "I had Radiant Raiment make it for you the night after our siege. They had enough cloth, but the rest was difficult to guess. They finished it just this afternoon, of all things. It's yours."
"Mine?"
"Your personal banner," Crixus replied.
"Am I not the Bear of Eastmarch?"
"Well, the Bear is already taken," Crixus returned. "And I remember seeing a raven over you at every battle where you took the field."
"I was too busy watching the enemy," Eirik grimly replied.
"Do I get no thanks?"
Eirik rolled his eyes, then muttered his thanks before turning back to the blazing pyre. "So what happens now?"
"We go our separate ways," Crixus replied. "You to Whiterun and I to Cyrodiil. You know I haven't been there since, oh, I don't know...well, I was in Cheydinhal for less than a month, but I haven't been to my family's house in Anvil since the War. I can't wait to see what's become of it. But when I get there, things will be different. And I may yet require your services."
"My services?"
"You'll never know when a fire-breathing, dragon-summoning Nord warrior might come in handy," Crixus smirked.
"What about your threat to slit my throat if I..."
"Talos needed his Wulfharth," Crixus interrupted. "I don't fucking know, maybe it's the same with us." He looked up towards the Blue Palace, then back to Eirik. "I suppose this is goodbye for now."
"Aye, perhaps," Eirik muttered.
Crixus held out his hand to Eirik, who seized it as far as the elbow in the old Colovian fashion. "Farewell. I go to claim my throne and you your great hall. By the Eight and by Sithis, by all the princes of Oblivion...and by Talos, we shall meet again. Your Emperor may yet require your services."
"May the gods watch over your battles...friend," Eirik replied, smiling.
They broke off their arm embrace and Crixus made his way southward, towards the Blue Palace. He looked thither once again and, in the light of the fire, Eirik saw him hesitate. Just beyond, at the edge of the courtyard, he saw Rikke gazing into the fire. He walked towards them, then thought better of it and halted, calling back to Crixus.
"You never pardoned me like you said you would."
Without turning around, Crixus replied: "I already have."
Eirik could not laugh, for grief was still too near: he sighed an ounce of mirth before turning back to the flames. Crixus cast one last glance back at the Dragonborn, smiled, then turned around and made his way westward, towards the gate of Solitude. From there he would ride down to the East Empire docks and board the Red Dog with Shaddar and Rayya and Elenwen their prisoner and begin his long voyage home.
The Dragon of the South and the Bear of Eastmarch parted at last on friendly terms.
(AN: Wow, still can't believe we're almost done...and yet i'm going to keep publishing more stories based on my Elder Scrolls fanon! At least there is still somewhere i can take this story, not like the Ozian Adventures which fizzled out as soon as i tried doing original stuff.)
(Lots of stuff going on in this chapter, some of which is resolution, some of which is set-up for Crixus' story [especially his ersatz relationship with Elisif]. I got a bit confused there with so many people with E's in their names [Eirik, Esbern, Elisif and Elenwen...oh my!], so i hope i had everything together. Also i did show that, despite her bravado, Rikke does harbor a hidden respect for her warrior people. This is shown in the Imperial victory where she says "Talos guard you" to Ulfric and Galmar once they're dead, but i wanted something a bit more subtle: so i have her say no words or do no actions other than just quietly place an amulet of Talos on Galmar's body. Since Eirik has been through a lot, i wanted him to be able to come back to Mjoll and Sigrun without any more complications. I also managed to watch a video of a live birth for as close a reference to what happened with Mjoll for this story, and it was close to how i described this birth in this story.)
(Though this feels like a better conclusion than the last chapter, we're not done yet. Stay tuned for the epilogue!)
