A night to remember - 13th of Sunsdawn – 4 E 202 – Windhelm – Valunstrad
They remained this way, hand in hand, plunged in each other's eyes for what seemed an eternity. But before the awkwardness of the situation could get hold on the guests, the sound of a lute broke the silence and the crowd dispersed.
Ulfric offered a thankful nod to Jorleiff who left the bards' side as they started playing and rushed inside of the Palace to haste the preparations of the incoming feast. The steward's office was to fulfill the needs of the court before such needs even occurred, and in this particular task, Jorleiff always did a most amazing job.
Ulfric turned back is gaze to the young woman, whose hand he still held on tight.
"Waiting for a jarl to apologize, one can wait a long wait.", he said with a smile Eliana immediately answered to.
"I did not deserve such an honour, my jarl."
"This decision is not yours to question. You've done more than any for this city in the past few months... it was high time you received a proper token of my appreciation. It is traditional for the Thane to own an estate in Windhelm.", he added. "Come to the Palace tomorrow, we'll speak with Jorleiff who'll make the arrangements."
Footsteps on their side broke their moment as the group of Companions led by the man Eliana noticed earlier came meet them.
"Kodlak.", the jarl saluted. "It's an honour to welcome you and the Companions on such an occasion."
"Thank you, jarl Ulfric.", the old man bowed his head with respect. "Dragonborn.", he added towards the young woman. "I don't believe we've met, but I heard about you, of course... It is an honour to finally meet the heir of Talos of Atmora. And to have an chance to thank you for your deeds at Gallows Rocks."
"I was just doing my duty.", Eliana answered truthfully. "And it was an honour for me to fight side by side with the legendary Companions."
"Honour shared.", the Harbinger said. "I have no doubt without you, this quest of ours would have met a far more fateful end."
"I was not much of an help."
"You were.", Farkas stated.
She turned to the raven-haired warrior and shot him a warm smile.
"How is your arm?"
"Still able to yeild a sword.", the werewolf answered. "That's all I ask of it."
The young woman nodded and excused herself. Ulfric wached her meet up with the group of Dunmer gathered close to congratulate her. He couldn't help but smile. She represented Skyrim's every hope, and every contradictions... She was the only one who had the will and strength to stand against him when she needed to, the only one who could weld what his faults and mistakes had torn apart, the only one who could unite and rule Skyrim by his side. From across the courtyard, he met Galmar's eyes and the bear gave him an approving nod.
Regretfully letting Eliana stray away from him, leaving her to her conversation with her many well-wishers, Ulfric turned back his attention to Kodlak.
"I trust Vignar Gray-Mane gave you my thanks, for not getting the Companions involved in the battle of Whiterun."
"Politics are something best avoided.", the Harbinger replied. "In times like ours, the difference between order and oppression, between deliverers and traitors is as thin as a blade's edge. Only victory will decide where the rightous stand. I try to hold us away from such troubles... and to the right path. Such is our way since Ysgramor himself led the Companions..."
"And since he became the first High-King, by Election and by Conquest... "
"I believe you intend no less.", the old man pointed. "But I prefer more personal confrontations, myself.", he added, earning a dark frown from the jarl.
It was personal. He had more reason than most to desire their independence. But Skyrim's future wasn't about one man's ambition, one man's glory... As he turned to the future, all he could see was the gathering storm that would soon rage over mankind. As long as Skyrim belonged with the Empire and as long as the Empire remained bound by the White Gold Concordat, the Thalmor had nothing to do but wait and let their forces and influence grow strong within provinces which had no right to prepare their defence. His fight was one for survival. Survival of his people, of their way of life and traditions, for the memory of their Heroes of Old and the future of their children.
"How can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods?"
The Harbinger let out an approving snort.
"Well, I grow old. My mind turns towards the horizon, to Sovngarde. But you don't need to share the worries of an old warrior.", he added as the jarl's eyes darkened. "This day is to rejoice! However... A piece of advice, from an old warrior... If I were you – oh! If I were you...", he chuckled to himself. "I would keep this young woman close... For her heart beats with fury and courage that have united the Companions since the days of the distant green summers. She's seen the lands of Gods and returned... Has she ever told you the reason why?"
The jarl said nothing, his gaze lost in the contemplation of Eliana's long red hair flowing down her back and the glimmer in her emerald eyes when she shot him a glance and a warm smile.
"I have a feeling... her existance is somehow linked to the long line of the Companions..."
"Do you see her becoming one of you?", the jarl enquired.
"No.", the Harbinger responded without an hesitation. "Her heart is fierce... but already belongs to another cause. Still... Maybe her descendants will."
Ulfric's gaze got lost into nothingness as images of this hypothetical future came to life in his mind. A boy with dark red hair, steel grey eyes and a proud bearing, a fair-haired girl with her mother's emerald eyes and warm smile growing up in the stronghold of Ysgramor then following the White-River to join the glory First-King's Companions. Her children... Theirs, maybe?
The long line of well-wishers gathered to congratulate the new Thane finally came to an end. Eliana bowed and bid farewell to Calixto Corrium – unable to deny him the promise she would come to visit his House of Curiosities within the next days – before she could finally get away and joined the festivities.
Around, the party was in full-swing. Cheering and conversations were drowned in the sound of music and sorrows of the last year drowned in mead. Plates and tankards, ale and meat were passed from one table to the other, from one group gathered in merriment to the next. Alcool was flowing free, loosening tongues, ribald songs and epic tales of battles replacing the melancolic reverence once set on Valunstrad.
'In the month of Mid-Year, from my home I started.
Left the girls of th'Rift
Nearly broken hearted! Saluted father dear,
Kissed my darlin' mother, Drank a pint of beer,
My grief and tears to smother;
Then off to reap the corn, and leave where I was born!
I cut a stout blackthorn, to banish ghost and goblin;
In a brand new pair of brogues, I rattled o'er the bogs,
And frightened all the dogs, on the rocky road to Windhelm.'
'One, two, three, four five!'
'Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road
And all the ways to Windhelm!
Whack-fol-lol-de-ra.'
'In Dark Waters Crossing, I rested limbs so weary.
Started by daylight, Next mornin' light and airy
Took a drop of the pure,
To keep my heart from sinkin', That's an Nordsman's cure!
Whene'er he's on for drinking, To see the lasses smile,
Laughing all the while, At my curious style,
't would set your heart a-bubblin'.
They ax'd if I was hired, the wages I required,
Till I was almost tired, of the rocky road to Windhelm.'
'One, two, three, four five!'
'Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road
And all the ways to Windhelm!
Whack-fol-lol-de-ra.'
The song went on and on, from misadventure to misadventure until the poor traveler finally reached his goal, far in the west:
'The boys of Solitude, when on the dock I landed.
Called myself a fool, I could no longer stand it;
My blood began to boil, my temper I was losing.
And poor FourHolds, they all began abusing.
"Hurrah! my boys," says I, my shillelagh I let fly.
Some Eastmarsh boys were by, they saw I was a hobble in;
Then with a loud "hurrah !" they joined me in the fray.
Faugh-a-ballagh! clear the way for the rocky road to Windhelm.'
Eliana laughed and clapped in unison with the rest of the guard under the reprobative look of the few sailors of the East Empire Company passing by.
"Well then...", a female voice said behind her. "Should Windhelm expect the same fate as Whiterun? To be betrayed and burned to ashes within the next months?"
Eliana turned and shot the Huntress a fierce glance and a wry smile.
"Not even the Dragon Fire could burn Windhelm to ashes.", she said. "For this is the very heart of Skyrim; crushed into embers, it will reignite."
The she-wolf laughed. "May Vignar never hear you, or we'd once again have him harassing Kodlak to get us involved in this conflict!"
"That's pretty much already the case, for jarl Gray-Mane.", Eliana noticed with a smile.
"Every man and woman amongst the Companions is master of his own fate. Vignar and Eorlund have their own beliefs, their own reasons... Not my place to question them. Kodlak says not to worry about it."
The Huntress let out a frustrated sigh. "I worry that a bunch of snowberries are out there earning glory while we stay out of it. But we will follow the old man's lead. As ever."
"There are always good reasons to fight.", a male voice stated nearby. "Just wish this war had them. Politics or underhanded sneaking do not befit warriors of our standing."
Eliana shot an inquisitive look to the younger twin.
"We've met at Gallows Rock, but I don't think we've been introduced."
"Indeed.", he answered coldly, but said no more.
"Nevermind him.", Aela hushed. "This is Vilkas. Farkas' brother."
"Really?", Eliana sarcastically pointed, considering the most welcoming manners of the older brother compared to his twin's. "Hardly see an air of resemblance at all."
The man shot her an icy glance.
"There's no glory in war.", he said, his voice fierce and unyeilding. "It's just something they say soldiers so they risk their life. Who cares who worships what dead god? I for myself need better reasons to draw my sword."
"You're right.", the young woman added, much to Vilkas surprise. "When you fight you have to fight for something. I...", she started with passion but immediately stopped and let out a deep sigh. "My reasons are not yours to question. However, I do believe there is honour in fighting for what you believe in, protecting what you care for, standing against oppression and injustice. You can wipe out an entire generation, you can burn their homes to the ground, and somehow they'll still find their way back. But if you destroy their history, their culture... if you destroy their achievements, then it's as if they never existed. That's what the Thalmor wants... And that's exactly what we're fighting for... Not for ephemeral or eternal glory... We're fighting because Skyrim needs heroes… and there's no one else but us."
The wolf let out a disdainful snort then made his way through the crowd to join his brother, waiting for him with a pint of mead in his hand.
"I get a feeling your shield-brother doesn't quite like me.", Eliana mused, her gaze fixed on the wolf scrutinizing her.
"Quite the contrary.", Aela smiled to herself. "You've made quite an impression on him. On them both."
"Such wasn't my intention."
She saw the twins exchange a few words, then Vilkas nodded and clang glasses with his brother, initiating a dangerous game that would last for most of the night.
"No pause. No spills.", Vilkas announced, pouring him and his drinking companions a few tankards of mead.
"No regurgitation.", Galmar added with a wolfish smile towards the Breton wanderer who just happened to join the game. "Last one standing wins."
Eliana chuckled under her breath as the bear promptly emptied his first tankard, soon followed by the rest of the participants to this contest. Bets and wagers started piling up as so did empty mugs on the length of the table, coins ringing and frustrated growls breaking the constant clamor of rejoice when one of the outsiders – Athis, one of the Companions, especially seemed to count many supporters amongst the Dunmer – managed to outrun the rest of the group or when one of the drinkers gave up the fight. But soon, the events took a most unexpected turn when the Breton they all mistook for an easy prey left most of his contestants in the dust, drinking pint after pint without even faltering. In almost no time, there was none left sober but him and Galmar.
"Looks like it's just you and me, now.", Sam offered, as the most reasonable ones simply gave up the contest and the other started blattering incoherent things and joined in the many chaotic singing groups gathered around the place.
"These milk-driners didn't stand a chance!", Galmar said with a wolfish smile. "Nor do you, Breton."
The man drank his pint down the hatch. "Mead flows like water, here. But maybe you and me would need something a little stronger! How 'bout a drink of my own personal reserve?", he proposed, getting a dark metal flask from his satchel.
Galmar eyed the bottle suspiciously.
"Harmless, except for a battering headache tomorrow morning, I can assure you. I'll start round one, then.", the Breton offered, taking a long gulp of his mysterious drink, then he handed the flask to the general. "Your turn!"
The bear unhesitantly swallowed a gulp of the Breton's liquor and had to repress a cough. The alcool was strong and thick, almost sweet yet burned the throat.
"One down, friend", the man smiled. "One down. And another one for me! How 'bout you?"
"Easy enough!", the elder said, eagerly following the Breton's lead.
Slightly tipsy – but not as drunk as one could expect from a man who swallowed half a dozen pints in the last hour - Farkas got away from the singing group, two pints full of mead in hand and offered one to the new Thane.
"A cup, Dragonborn", he proposed to her. "To the days come and gone."
"With pleasure.", she smiled, clinging glasses with him. "We haven't had much chance to talk after our dungeon delving, together. Found any other fragments of Wuunthrad, yet?"
"Cleared a Silver-Hand den in the Rift a few weeks ago, and found another part. But the axe is still incomplete."
"I hear it's been shattered in many parts over the centuries. Think if you could get all the fragments, the axe could be reforged?"
The young man nodded without an hesitation. "Given good metal and a strong hammer, Eorlund could reforge the Earth and Skies."
"May the castle blacksmith never hear you!", the young woman chuckled. "Anyway, when this war is over, should you need any help with your task know that I will be around and willing to help."
"Would you want to join the pack?", Farkas asked, a strange tone of hope coloring his deep voice.
"I... don't think I would fit in.", she said, replacing a strand of stray hair behind her ear. "I'm not a warrior. I'm a mage. A battlemage, some would say, but I have no place amongst the honorable line of Ysgramor. Plus, I am now oath-bound to stay in Windhelm.", she added with a radiant smile. "But that doesn't mean I can't hel-"
The young woman stopped mid-sentence, her gaze captured by a glimmer in the candlelights.
"Is that an amulet of Mara you're wearing?"
Ulfric felt his heart clench painfully in his chest and his blood run cold.
Farkas shifted unconfortably.
"You're looking for marriage then?", she asked. "I thought you would already be spoken for."
"Are you interested?", the young man asked bluntly, his icy eyes locked on emerald ones.
The look of surprise on Eliana's face was soon replaced by sheer incomprehension.
"Are you?", she asked back.
"Won't lie. I am.", the wolf nodded. "We haven't spent much time together but I would be a lucky man to have you at my back when the days grow dark and by my side when my days grow short. If you'll have me."
She just couldn't get her thoughts straight. In Skyrim, courtship was mostly meant to be short – if not inexistant; even more these days, life was short and death often cruel, so no time was lost when it came to find the one to share your remaining time with. But Eliana never expected to so bluntly have her hand requested in marriage! True, at her age, most women were already spoken for; and Divines know how much she had envied them and their growing families when the solitude of Falkreath became too heavy for her heart. But now... So much had changed for her in the past few months, the past few weeks even... Death had freed her of the chains of the past, victory of the chains of destiny, and the new life she'd been granted offered her hope, the choice to forge her own future... Love, freedom, life were not merely illusions anymore... They were within her reach and so was the choice.
After an instant of eternity, the young woman blinked, an enigmatic smile on her lips and looked up to meet the young man's eyes.
"I'm sorry...", she breathed, "I am determined... that only the deepest love will induce me into matrimony. I am very sensible of the honour of your proposals, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than decline them."
She shot a glance on her side, plunging deep in Ulfric's eyes fixed on her. "My heart and soul already belong to the Stormcloak cause."
Farkas gave her an accepting nod.
"Then it is true", the Huntress stated more than she asked. "what they say about jarl Ulfric?"
Eliana shot her an inquisitive look.
"There are rumours all across Skyrim, that upon stormcloak victory, Skyrim would welcome not only a King but also a Queen."
"A Queen...", the young woman repeated in fake obliviousness. "I've spent much time with the jarl lately yet I can't think of any prospective bethrothed close to him..."
Aela gave her a knowing smile, all the answer she needed hidden within this cryptic response.
The evening slowly grew into a night; the cold evening air gathered the most cold-feeted ones close to the flaming braseros or lead them to the warmth of the Candlehearth to keep on celebrating. Much to Ulfric's relief, the seemingly endless line of boot-lickers and complainers, well-wishers and distant relations finally came to an end, allowing him a first respite since the beginning of the Feast. Leaning back in his throne, he cast a glance around, trying to locate familiar faces amongst the brave remaining gathered in Valunstrad despite the coldness of the night. Galmar was nowhere to be found – the jarl thought he'd seen him head to the inn sometimes earlier - , Yrsarald had just excused himself to get to sleep yet still remained the one person he wanted to spend this night with. Images of this vision of the future he had drowned in earlier came rushing back to his mind as well as the question that harrased him ever since her return from Falkreath and Galmar's sudden change of heart about her.
Light notes on the lute and a sudden silence amongst the crowd broke his train of thoughts and tore him from his reverie. Eyes closed in concentrations, her fingers wandering on the strings creating an intricate melody soon joined by the long and melancholic sound of a flute and a violin, her voice softly echoed through the night in a hushed whisper which seemed to ring through time and space and to Sovngarde itself.
'Fear not this night
You will not go astray.
Though shadows fall,
Still the stars find their way.'
'Awaken from a quiet sleep,
Hear the whispering of the wind;
Awaken as the silence grows,
In the solitude of the night.'
'Darkness spreads through all the land
And your weary eyes open silently
Sunsets have forsaken all
The most far off horizons'
'Nightmares come when shadows grow
Eyes close and heartbeats slow'
'Fear not this night
You will not go astray
Though shadows fall
Still the stars find their way'
'And you can always be strong
Lift your voice with the first light of dawn'
'Dawn's just a heartbeat away
Hope's just a sunrise away'
Her voice no louder than a whisper, her soul vibrating with every word, every note, she first dared to open her eyes and met Ulfric's focused on her.
'Distant sounds of melodies
Calling through the night to your heart
Auroras, mists, and echoes dance
In the solitude of our life'
She felt a wave of heat surge through her veins and blood rise to her cheeks and hoped the jarl wouldn't notice, but the way his lips curled into a warm smile allowed no doubt.
'Pleading, sighing arias
Gently grieving in captive misery
Darkness sings a forlorn song
Yet our hope can still rise up'
Her voice clear and strong yet burning with emotion, she closed her eyes again to let music overwhelm her once more.
'Nightmares come when shadows roam.
Lift your Voice, lift your hope!'
A sudden change of chord in the music pulled him straight on his throne, his heart hanged onto her very word.
'And though the night sky's filled with blackness,
Fear not, rise up, call out and take my hand.'
'Fear not this night
You will not go astray
Though shadows fall...'
'Fear not this night
You will not go astray
Though shadows fall...'
'And you can always be strong
Lift your voice with the first light of dawn.'
Her fingers softly stroking the strings one last time and her voice no louder than a whisper were the only sounds daring to break the quiet that followed the last verse.
'Dawn's just a heartbeat away
Hope's just a sunrise away'
The music died out with her voice in the revered silence of the night.
And here's the 51st chapter of The Dragon and the Bear :)
As you see, lots of songs, so I have to give credit to their rightful owners ^^As some of you may have recognized, "The rocky road to Windhelm" is an adaptation of "The Rocky Road to Dublin", a popular irish song I absolutely adore, and the song Eliana sings at the end of the Feast (Fear not this Night, by Jeremy Soule) I got from Maluhka's awesome channel, so please go check this song out, she has the most amazing voice and all her songs are just breath-taking! :)
Still, hope you enjoyed this chap! Please leave a review, I just squeal like a crazy fangirl whenever I receive a message from you guys so, please keep doing so ;) And I promise the sequel to this chapter won't take so long to update!
See you very soon! Stay tuned and don't forget to review!
PS : 67000+ views ! *collapses and drowns under all the feels* Thank you so, so, so, so very much! I love you guys!
