Chapter 65: Convergence

TW: discussion of miscarriage/stillbirth

Giselle's expression levelled somewhere between shock and annoyance.

"You don't know what you're saying," her face paled. "Why are you looking for an Elder Scroll?"

"It's…a really long story. Come with us and I'll tell you about it."

My sister rubbed her eyes and made a frustrated sound through her teeth. "Celeste, no," she lowered her hands, gaze bright and burning. "The Empire, Thalmor, and Stormcloaks are hunting me. With good reason," she added quickly. "I have left a trail of bodies behind me. I poisoned the Emperor of Tamriel, for Shor's sake! You can't just -" she searched for a heartbeat, "- sing a sad song about...about genealogy and scary dreams, and expect them to forgive me. At best, you'll be leading us all to a swift execution."

I couldn't understand why she was so angry; I found myself filling with a deep, knowing sadness. It was never going to be easy, but we had to try. "You underestimate the Empire's commitment to justice."

"You underestimate their desire to blame someone so they can finish their paperwork," she retorted.

My heart clenched; no, I hadn't. Farkas and I had witnessed that beheading in Solitude, and the Empire had been ready to end me, when they thought I was Giselle, so long ago.

"Swift execution is the best case scenario," Giselle pressed, growing quiet. "You can't imagine what the Thalmor would do to you, to everybody you love if you help me," she turned, her intention to leave plain. "We are all accountable for our actions, Celeste."

I tore my gaze from the bright, miniature star hanging over the staircase and frowned at her departing form. "I don't understand, since when does my sister accept her lot and give up?"

"Give up?" she baulked, turning back, expression pained. "Handing myself over to the Empire would be giving up. Going back to Ulfric would be giving up. The Blades believe in me - us, believe who we are-"

"Delphine always manipulates," I cut her off. "Perhaps Esbern is different - I don't know him - but everything Delphine does is bent on reviving the long-dead era when they were relevant to Tamriel," I couldn't help but raise my tone, just remembering the nerve of that woman. "She doesn't care what happens to us, so long as we serve her plans. How did she convince you murdering the Emperor was the right path?"

"Because it was the right path!"

"You truly believe that?"

"Are you telling me you wanted to be shuffled back to Cyrodiil like some prized breeding cow-?!"

"I was going to refuse them - I had a plan that didn't involve assassination-"

"Let me guess, it involved a song?" Giselle scoffed.

"Of course not-!"

"Why did you tell anyone who our great-great-whatever grandfather was?" she barrelled on. "How is it even relevant, to anything you're trying to accomplish? How was that ever going to end well for you and soldier-boy?"

"I didn't - you set that up!" my sadness shifted to incredulity. "You can't claim to save me from wheels you set in motion!"

The words echoed around the small chamber. Giselle's mouth snapped shut and she stared at me, suddenly blank.

"I didn't tell the Empire about us," she whispered eventually. "Why would I do that, to either of us? You think I like being connected to that Talos-forsaken family?"

My stomach churned and nausea pooled in my throat. Closing my eyes, I lowered myself to the cold, hard stone floor so I wouldn't fall as the puzzle pieces fell into place and confirmed what I had wondered when the letter from Lord Vici had arrived.

"It was the Blades, they set us up."

Above me, Giselle shuffled. "That's ridiculous," she huffed.

"You know it's not," I opened my eyes, fixed her with a flat look. "They set us both up, thinking we'd have no choice but to fall back to them for protection."

The truth settled on my shoulders like a landslide, suffocating, and panic warred with anger rose in my chest.

My sister sat also, staring at the floor, and at nothing. "They can't have. They're protecting me - their very order is defined by an oath to protect and serve our family-"

"How did you come to meet the Blades?" I cut her off quietly.

Giselle hesitated. "Esbern," she admitted. "I've…known Esbern for years."

"How?" I croaked. "Delphine didn't even know he lived."

Her face crinkled with unease. "When I started dreaming, I looked for answers. I wasn't able to study at Winterhold, but Ulfric didn't stop me from traveling as part of his army..." she drifted off, shook her head with indecision. "I once had another…family, I suppose, like your Companions, but in Riften. It's how Etienne and I know each other. Anyway, Esbern was...in hiding, near our base of operations. I used to visit him there."

"Did you tell him who you are?"

"No," Giselle met my gaze, stoic. "But he knew, almost at once. He knew what my dreams meant."

Watching her carefully, I continued with delicacy. "What did he think of your alliance with Onmund?"

Giselle's lips straightened. "He saw no issue with it."

I rubbed at my brow, to try ease a building pressure there. "Was it Esbern's suggestion you remain in Windhelm?"

"No," Giselle huffed, aghast. "That was my idea, after the dream about Onmund, before I even knew of Esbern. But…"

"What?"

"Esbern…supported the…I suppose he…" she closed her eyes, took a deep breath.

"It's okay, we don't have to talk about this," I said, suddenly frightened of the truth I'd longed to understand. "It's safe to assume the Blades have been manipulating our family for longer than we realised. We both need to get out of here."

"No, Celeste shut up for a minute," Giselle cut quietly. "I need to remember this right."

Her eyes remained closed, and her hands balled into fists, positioned on her knees. Her breaths came slow and steady.

"It was him," she whispered eventually, opening her eyes; ocean-blue met mine, full of betrayal. "I mean, it was what Esbern said that convinced me to go ahead with it," she swallowed, growing pale; she wavered, and I wondered if she was about to faint.

I scooted around to sit shoulder to shoulder, to steady her. "Convinced you to what?" I whispered.

She nodded shallowly, as though I'd confirmed something. "To be with Ulfric - to, you know," she tilted her head. "Be with him. Once Ulfric understood who I really was, he was interested in...but he didn't want to legitimise Onmund to ally his line with the Dragonborn line. He offered me an alliance with his eldest son, and I refused. I was pledged to serve his army, but I was loyal to Onmund."

"But - Esbern and I talked about the future all the time. He suggested my Dragonborn powers would be activated through the right catalyst…" she drifted off again, and withdrew.

My tongue felt thick in my throat. "What did he say…exactly?" I asked, resting a hesitant hand on her shoulder.

Giselle tensed, sideways glancing my touch. "It happened such a long time ago."

"I told her a union with Ulfric Stormcloak would either make her the Dragonborn, or pass the honour to the next Dragonborn. Their child."

My sister drew a sharp breath, and Giselle and I swung around.

Esbern's silhouette filled the doorway.

"It was for the good of Tamriel," he said in a reasonable tone, taking a single step forward that only made the shadows obscuring his face deepen.

A memory speared me; Giselle in a prisoner tent, captured by the Empire in Rorikstead, both eyes and voice distant.

"All I have done, all I have endured has been for the good of Tamriel."

"The Blades have aligned families for eras to ensure the Dragonborn line remain true and powerful," Esbern explained. "It was only through the Hero of Kvatch's deceit that we lost sight of you. She doomed the reign of the Septims, and you have all but lost your power. A man like Ulfric would strengthen the Septim line, and put us back on the right path."

"And what path is that?" Giselle spoke, emotionless.

"The path Akatosh intended for you, and your people."

"Well I failed, even in that," she countered cooly. "And now I can't ever have children."

"What?" I glanced to her, but her eyes, hard as stone, were on the Blade.

"So it seems," Esbern acknowledged sadly.

I was suddenly on my feet and a step before my sister. "What did you do to her?"

"Giselle was free to make her own choices," Esbern sighed, his tone grave and sonorous. "My intention was to offer guidance and support."

"Guidance?" Giselle whispered. "You told me I had to produce a child with him, or the world would be unmade."

"And I told you what I believed to be true at the time," he continued. "When the Greybeards rejected you I understood your blood was so muddied by generations of weak and foolhardy alliances that it might take generations for one to be borne worthy of the Gifts. I feared we did not have time, before Alduin's return," his shadowed eyes flickered to me; Giselle's candlelight spell flashed in them for an instant.

The bile rose in my throat, and I glowered, suppressing the urge to otherwise react; to throw up, to cry, to Fus.

"A child of a Septim heir and a Jarl such as Ulfric, who himself mastered the Voice, would not be ignored by the Divines, and that child would save us from the coming storm," he spoke with an unnerving calmness. "But it seems Akatosh hid His Dragonborn in plain sight."

"If Akatosh hid me from anyone," I growled, "it was from the likes of Delphine and you."

"I am so very sorry, Dragonborn," he went on with a shake to his head, as though I'd said nothing. "You came to realise your powers on your own, and that must have been terrifying."

"Stop making this about me," I grated. A slim hand took hold of my wrist, tried to subtly urge me back. My fist clenched, my arm tensed, but Giselle held firm.

"She was alone," I uttered. "Akatosh is not to blame or praise for machinations you have wrought. You did this to her," I accused, my tone low and full of fury. A flame rose within me, bright and burning, preparing to unleash dragons on this dangerous man who dared to manipulate my kiin.

"That is past," Esbern encouraged, holding his hands out, a mockery of supplication. "Mistakes were made. I suggest we move forward, unified, if we are to meet the now very real threat to-"

"Fus," I Shouted.

Giselle's hand tightened; the walls of the building shook, dusting us with mortar, and Esbern was pushed to his knees. The swirling anger within was too much, spiralling in my body, making me tremble.

My sister's hand shook too, be it from anger or fear, and it was her response that encouraged me to take a breath, then another. The dragons ebbed, and my words found the air to flow.

"You have identified me as the Dragonborn," I said pointedly, recalling words I had said to Delphine, to make her listen, once. "And so with the full authority my blood gives me within your order, I disband the Blades and strip your members of their ranks."

"But, Dragonborn…my Empress," Esbern begged, horrified.

"If you look to me as your Empress," I continued, voice gaining strength, "you will listen. From this moment, you are banished from the realms of Tamriel. Consider it a mercy I give you and Delphine an hour to leave this place," I added, shaking with restraint. The force deep within rose to fill me again on a lengthy inhale, now bright and fortifying.

"I live to serve your family," he lowered his head respectfully. "I admit I have made grave errors in judgement, but I swear to you, I was acting with your best interests-"

"You were acting to serve your best interests in your bid to control us, to regain a semblance of what the Blades once had," I cut him off furiously, taking another step forward.

Giselle stepped with me this time, stopped beside me, and her fingers shifted so she could hold my hand, rather than death-grip my arm.

Tears prickled as the squeeze of her hand made my breath catch in my throat.

My sister continued from where I had left. "The only way you can serve my family," she spoke, quiet but certain, "is by leaving Skyrim and never returning. If I see or hear of you or Delphine, or anyone who calls themselves a Blade, near me, my sister, or anybody we love," she warned, her voice thick, "I will not hesitate to end you. This stops today, Esbern. Do you understand?"

Esbern looked up. Through the shadows, his features were difficult to make out, but I could see his mouth, open, and his chin juddering as he gaped, attempting to assemble his next excuse, his next plea.

"I asked you a question," Giselle spoke, stoic as the hand not wound in mine rose. She held her palm toward him, and a ball of white lightning, crackling purple around its edges, pooled and grew between her fingers.

"I…I understand."

"Then you will go now," I suggested, ordered.

Shaking, the old man bowed and climbed to his feet.

My sister dispelled the energy; it shrank back into her with a small fizz.

"I am sorry to have failed you, Dragonborn," his eyes remained on the ground.

"I'm not the one you failed," I replied, giving Giselle's hand a squeeze. "Now go."

He said nothing more, and backed out of the chamber.

We stared at the open doorway, hand in hand. Pumped with fury, adrenaline and fear, I watched for signs of return; signs of attack.

Minutes passed in silence.

Eventually, Giselle turned to face me, eyes wide and uncertain.

"So," she looked to our hands between us.

I let out a relieved, quiet sob, tugging my hand out of her grasp so I could throw my arms around her neck.

Giselle made a surprised noise and grabbed my waist so we wouldn't topple to the ground. "Celeste?"

I buried my face in her shoulder, clenching my eyes closed to stop the tears from falling. I wanted to tell her everything, to cry and cry at the injustice she had suffered, to tell her I loved her and would never let anyone hurt her again.

"I'm so sorry," was all I could manage; a feeble squeak.

"Don't," she huffed, vaguely incredulous. The hand on my back patted me gently. "You need to get your shield-siblings, and get out of here," she sighed, voice tremulous. "I expect Delphine will not take their disbanding as lightly as Esbern did."

"We gave him our terms," pulling back and nodding, I wiped my eyes hastily. "If she ignores them, we take her to the Thalmor."

Giselle huffed again, then knelt beside the trapdoor, scooping up the dim remains of the candlelight spell. "That's a confrontation I would actually rather avoid."

She stared at the pinprick, and it grew into a bright ball. Face lit up by the whiteness, her eyes flickered back to me.

I caught her caution, a gleam that made her seem younger than she was, and remembered that despite our win today, she was still a wanted woman.

The weight of Giselle's position hung between us, and I tried in vain to find words of encouragement.

"Let's go," she said eventually.

I nodded for her to proceed, and we descended the stairs, the candlelight encircling our path.

The spell cast my sister's form in relief and greyed out everything the soft-edged shadows touched. I stared at her long braid, my mind swimming with fierce determination, to figure this out - to find some way to help her.

Assassinating the Emperor and his heir was unforgivable, but the Empire believed Delphine had committed the murders. Given the hell she and hers had put my family through, I felt no remorse in throwing her under the cart. Esbern's dig at the Penitus Oculatus would now serve against them.

But even if the Empire blamed the Blades for the assassinations, Giselle was wanted for other crimes - other murders, and treason.

But only if they found her.

We reached the bottom of the stair case and stepped into an earthen tunnel with a hard-packed, hard-worn floor.

"You cast those alteration spells, to make you all look Thalmor?" I asked.

"Yes?"

"They were really good disguises."

"Um, thanks?" Giselle turned, the corner of her mouth tilted up, though everything else about her was tense. "Why are you thinking about that?"

I offered a hopeful smile. "If you change yourself again, you won't have to worry about anyone recognising you. You could still come with us."

Giselle faltered, her doubt plain. "You could live with that?"

"If it keeps you alive until we figure out a way to absolve you," I shrugged. "Yes."

Giselle's mouth pursed for a beat, and she shook her head. "You want me to traipse around with you, while you save-"

"No," I cut her off quickly. "I want you to be free to take your own path. It's not my place to make your choice. But you can come with us, if you want."

She stilled again, but eventually turned her eyes to the ground. "Where will you go?"

In the chaos of the past week or so, I hadn't considered it.

Lydia would be going mad over my kidnapping, and once word reached Hadvar? After our last conversation, he would believe Stormcloak had somehow orchestrated it, despite the Thalmor involvement. There was no telling what he would do, not to mention how it would pain him.

Then there was the Penitus Oculatus occupying the Blue Palace, on the look-out for Farkas and very probably butting heads with the actual Emissary Rulindil over my disappearance.

But I couldn't take my sister to Solitude - it was far too dangerous - and if Farkas and I returned, we would be questioned for eons, probably. No. We could not go to Solitude. But I also couldn't simply return to my Dragonborn duties and leave those I loved searching for me or doubting I lived.

"Whiterun," I decided swiftly, meeting my sister's gaze. "I will send letters from there to Solitude, explaining I am with my Companions to recover in the wake of...everything."

"Whiterun," Giselle wrinkled her nose. "Even with a disguise, the Companions will sniff me out in a heartbeat."

"They're not all werewolves," I arched.

Giselle huffed and glanced away. "And then what? Where after Whiterun?"

I took a breath, considering the options. Assuming Lydia returned to Whiterun to join us, the Penitus Oculatus were appeased and Hadvar knew that I lived - what was my next step?

Oh. The Elder Scroll. I feigned nonchalance. "Then…I return to Winterhold."

Giselle huffed again, and closed her eyes this time.

"Onmund and I were close," I explained, "really close to finding someone who could help find an Elder Scroll."

Giselle glanced up, but said nothing.

I carried on, suppressing a smile. "You could come to Winterhold. Talk to Onmund about what you want to do next," I suggested.

"No," Giselle shook her head emphatically. "I won't ask him to lie for me again. Not after everything I put him through."

"He wants to see you," I insisted. "Made me promise I'd bring him to you actually, before the whole...Jarl thing grounded him."

"But you didn't know where I was?" Giselle hazarded.

I tilted my head uncertainly. "I was confident Vilkas would find you."

Giselle rolled her eyes. "You overestimate their abilities."

"I trust them," I defended quietly. "They are my family. But so are you," I turned to stare at the blackness before us as I felt my sister's gaze fall to me. "I was actually looking for you, too, before I knew about Onmund," I remembered belatedly.

"…Why?"

Suddenly I couldn't look at her. "I just…had a feeling you would be able to help…" I glanced down, unable to stop from thinking about what I had learned of her past since the day I had asked Vilkas to track her down. What Onmund had told me, when we had first been able to really talk. What Esbern had confirmed, only moments ago.

After a pause, Giselle's footsteps crunched against the earth as she stepped closer to me. "Esbern was right about one thing," she spoke, quiet and calm. "I made those choices. I could have run at any time."

"No you couldn't," I wavered, meeting her gaze, and my throat tightened. "If you ran, Onmund would be punished. And you believed what you were doing was bigger than anything you wanted. For the good of all Tamriel."

Giselle pursed her lips.

"I want to help...I can't change the past, obviously but-" I took a deep breath, searching for words.

Giselle remained silent, watchful.

"You told me you are your own woman," I said. "But it seems like you've been doing everybody else's dirty work for a really long time. I don't know the whole story but it feels like…going to Onmund would be a good place to start…changing things to the way you want them to be."

"What am I supposed to say to this?" Giselle asked with a small, desperate quiver. "Of course I want - but how can I face him? Onmund would be bound to hand me to the Empire."

I hadn't considered that. Tears prickled as I acknowledged it would seal her fate; a bitter regret caught in my throat. She would need to hide for the indefinite future, even from him.

But where in Skyrim could she go? Where was out of reach of the Empire, the Thalmor, the Stormcloaks, where she would be protected?

The flutter of souls linked to my coil rippled. They were agitated.

Onmund's voice rose, quiet and earnest amongst the din:

"She is dragonborn. Just because she can't thu'um like you doesn't make her any less dragonborn than you."

They were helping. My eyes widened as I glanced to her; the clouds in my mind parted.

"High Hrothgar," I burst.

Giselle stilled. "What?"

"Train at High Hrothgar," my words came fast. "You'll be safe there and you can learn how to speak the dragon tongue-"

"Wrong," my sister scoffed. "The Greybeards refused to train me."

"I'm not talking about the Greybeards," I urged. "There is another who can train you."

Giselle waited, eyes expectant. "…Who?"

"Paarthurnax."

"That's quite a name," Giselle arched an eyebrow.

"He's quite a teacher," I countered, unable to contain a laugh. My heart felt full and I couldn't keep the bright hope at bay. "Please, consider it as an option. None will think to look for you there - and even if they do, none will be able to reach you, not if you're protected by Paarthurnax."

Giselle blinked as she turned back to our path. "I'll think about it."

—

The earth flattened under our feet, and after taking a left, I caught the orange of torchlights glowing ahead. As we drew nearer, I heard voices, and Giselle extinguished her candlelight spell with a flick of her wrist.

"You can't have five sevens, Farkas," Vilkas' voice slurred through the gloom.

"There's only four in the whole deck," Etienne chimed. "Where'd you get an extra one from?"

"Check your deck," Farkas rumbled, words also blurring. "I don't carry sevens around in my armour."

I scrunched my brow, doubling my step to peer at my sister. "What are they doing?"

Giselle's expression was flat. "What all men inevitably do when they are left to their own devices for long enough," she sighed. "Drinking and gambling."

"They're prisoners!" I hissed.

"Mm-hmm," Giselle hummed.

We rounded the final corner.

"I knew I should've searched you," Etienne snorted. "But your pretty face was too honest."

"Shut up and pass me my winnings, loser," Farkas reached through the bars, not even hazarding me a glance.

Whatever drug they had been given to temper their wolves was obviously also dulling their awareness of me. I cleared my throat, but only a flushed Vilkas looked up, his eyes glassy in the lantern light.

"Am I seeing double again," his eyes widened, "or is that really my Harbinger?"

"I'm not your Harbinger," I choked on a laugh.

"I told you," Etienne waved a hand, propping his feet up on the table as he shuffled the cards, "no harm was to come to your girl, we just needed to show her something. You seen it now, right petal?" he peered over his shoulder. "Was it everything you imagined?"

"That is none of your concern," Giselle clipped, marching forward to bear down over Etienne. "What are you doing?"

"Steady on, princess!" Etienne sat up, ducking his head.

"He's losing his money, that's what he's doing," Farkas mumbled, hunched over as he stacked his winnings into small piles through the bars. "Celeste, you want to buy in?"

"No I do not."

I stared at the table, pushed up between a cell and the hall. Tiny, shiny black bottles littered the ground in the twin's cell, and Vilkas' face carried a few weeks worth of bushy stubble around his jaw.

He looked awful, but - I raked my eyes over my shield-siblings. They were unharmed, apart from the glassy eyes. If not for the bronze bars that both Vilkas and Farkas' arms were poking between, it looked as though we'd stumbled upon a seedy underground pub.

Giselle's eyes were fixed hard on Etienne's unashamed face. "Well, it's time to wrap things up. They're leaving. I'm leaving. You're…" she sighed. "You can come with us, if you want."

"You're going with - with them?" Etienne scrunched up his nose, sending me a glance of bafflement.

"She's coming with us?" Farkas' expression mirrored Etienne's.

"She's joking," Vilkas punched his brother's arm in slow-motion.

"Yes, and you can come with us, if you want," Giselle repeated quietly to the thief.

"Do…you want me to?" Etienne frowned, sitting taller.

"Yes," Giselle hushed, then straightened. "You are a worthy ally."

Etienne snorted.

"And you're..." she closed her eyes, grit her teeth. "Not entirely useless, in a fight."

"Charmer," Etienne huffed. "But I'm teasing. 'Course I'm with you, Selly."

"Don't call me that," she smirked. "I'll explain the rest once we're away."

"Wait, she is coming with us?" Vilkas pointed to my sister; the sudden motion made his elbow slip off the edge of the table with a squeak.

"Yes," I met his bloodshot eyes. "I told you I need my sister, that hasn't changed. Giselle and I uncovered the extent of the Blades' interference in our lives, and we are putting an end to it," I tried to not be frustrated at them; it wasn't his fault he'd been put here. "We have disbanded their order, and we will be leaving at once. If there is any trouble from Delphine or Esbern, we take care of them for good."

Farkas and Vilkas shot each other widened, sideways glances.

"But," it was Etienne who broke the silence, his voice tentative, directed at my sister. "Where are we bound?"

I swallowed and looked to Giselle. It's your choice.

She gave me a single, small nod. "We make for Whiterun."

—

There was no sign of Delphine or Esbern when the five of us returned to the cavernous hall that contained Alduin's wall. After a brief moment, where I showed the wall to the twins, we left Sky Haven Temple. Giselle sealed the morbid face-door that required blood to open behind us.

"What if they're still in there?" Etienne asked dubiously.

My sister shrugged. "Don't care. Come on."

Karthspire was eerily quiet, but as I'd not paid that much attention to it on my first trip through, I had to assume it always bore a weight and air of disused solemnity. Giselle led us through the labyrinth, and then we were standing in the valley in the open, chilled air of early evening.

The horse and cart were gone.

"Well," Giselle stared at the open space, devoid of life. "That answers that question."

I didn't know whether to be pleased or frustrated that they had heeded our warning and fled.

"So we're walking?" I asked, holding my arms and rubbing the exposed skin.

"Looks like it," Giselle sighed.

Vilkas crunched through the snow and slung an arm around me. Etienne had given the twins a couple of small green bottles when we left the cells, and his eyes had lost their glassiness over the course of the long walk. "You're like ice. C'mere."

Warmth emanated from him and for a beat I squeezed back, before the bad man and wet dog smell overwhelmed me. "Thank you?" I gagged. "We need to get you a bath."

"Been telling him that for about a week," Etienne chimed in.

Vilkas blinked at the thief, then turned to me and cleared his throat, letting his arm fall and taking a step to one side. "Remind me why we're taking the people who imprisoned us-"

"C'mon Vil, it wasn't like that," Etienne shook his finger at him. "We had fun, didn't we?"

Vilkas' glare was unimpressed. "Do not call me Vil."

"Here," Giselle crunched through the snow to pass me a bundle of cloth and leather. "Before you freeze to death."

It was thick leggings and long-sleeved tunic and short brown boots lined with wool - all very fine with tailored panels and embroidered seams. Clearly hers.

I stared at it, trying to remember the last time Giselle and I had borrowed each other's clothes. We must have been about…six years old.

"Thank you."

Retreating to the entrance of Karthspire for some privacy, I peeled off the dress I'd worn to the Blue Palace and tossed it to the cracked, rocky tiles underfoot, where it landed with a splat.

I was definitely going to be blacklisted at Radiant Raiments.

"We'll proceed on foot, but," I heard Giselle tell the others, "maybe we can barter for horses at one of the mining camps?"

"Not unless you mean to turn yourself in," Vilkas grumbled. "You'll be recognised by - everyone."

"I know," Giselle returned, quiet and prim. "And you two are hardly inconspicuous."

"I'm not on any wanted lists," Vilkas returned, droll.

"You forget who's on your side now, mate," Etienne waggled his finger. "It doesn't matter who she looks like right now."

I rolled my eyes and tugged the leggings up over numbed skin, then rubbed my hands together swiftly to unfreeze them.

"I don't want magic to change my face," Farkas hazarded.

"Then don't change," I could hear the shrug to Giselle's tone, "and answer the questions thrown at you by any patrols we encounter. It's your choice."

"It doesn't hurt, big stuff-" Etienne began.

"So that's it, then, we're all friends together, making plans of travel and subterfuge?" Vilkas cut in angrily.

His words echoed around the small valley, unchallenged. My heart clenched at his dark tone, and I hurriedly threw the tunic over my head.

"I don't expect you to trust me," Giselle returned quietly.

"Good," Vilkas grunted. "Because I don't."

I kicked on the boots and darted out of the entryway. Vilkas stood a step before Farkas, their gazes hard and trained on my sister.

"I don't blame you," Giselle continued with a wry tilt to her mouth. Catching sight of me, she pushed off the boulder she had been leaning on. "Better?"

I nodded. "Give me a minute?" I asked.

Shrugging, she motioned to Etienne. "So, who do you want to be today?"

Etienne grinned. "Go on, surprise me."

She lifted her eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

"Celeste," Vilkas' low, strained tone and gentle touch to my arm brought me back to my shield-brothers. "This isn't right," he whispered.

"I know, it's a lot to ask," I acknowledged. "I'll explain everything, once we're away, so - for now, can you trust me?"

"'Course we trust you," Farkas rumbled.

Vilkas looked more concerned than frustrated, and merely nodded.

I met his gaze. "You can sense her heart?"

He nodded again.

"What do you feel?"

He cursed and turned his eyes to the snow, lowering his hands to his sides. "There's a lot going on there," he admitted quietly. "Regret, anxiety, guilt."

"And hope. You're forgetting the hope," Farkas pointed out.

Warmth filled my chest and I lifted my head to the purpled skies, dotted here and there with delicate, sparkling stars. She feels hope.

"Yeah, just like that," Farkas laughed a little.

I laughed with him, then took Vilkas' hand. He stared at it, conflict rife in his silvery depths.

"I will never ask you to blindly follow me," I squeezed his fingers, smiling when he returned the pressure. "You might not know the full of what's happened yet, but I trust your instincts. If you believe in your heart that we should not take Giselle with us, I will listen, and we will find an alternative we can both live with. And I will love you no matter what you say or do next."

The corner of Vilkas' mouth rose, and he glanced away, into the distance, scratching idly at his scruffy beard. "It will be…good, to go home, for a time."

—

The moment we left the sheltered valley and struck out across the rolling tundra, the temperature dramatically fell, and despite the warm layer of fine clothing, I could not stop shivering.

My shield-siblings ignored it at first, though Farkas eventually drifted closer.

"You're tired."

"I'm okay," I said. When I opened my mouth to further explain, I was betrayed by a yawn.

Not twenty minutes out of Karthspire camp, we found Soljund's Sinkhole, and the start of the dirt road that would lead us to Rorikstead, and then Whiterun.

After enquiring at the hut in the hopes of somewhere to stay, talk almost at once turned to how the mine should have been operating with the skeleton crew of two, but the men had been driven out by draugr, and were awaiting help from Markarth.

The bigger one, Tuthul, eyed our group with a narrowing gleam. "Say, you wouldn't mind loaning us your bodyguards for a couple of hours, would you?"

I opened my mouth to correct him.

"No offence intended, little lady," the smaller man, Perth, added hastily with a nervous smile. "We can pay for their time. It is only - it has been many weeks since the missive was sent, and I'm starting to wonder if the Jarl has rather. Given up on us."

"I'm no match for them on my own, but with you lot-" Tuthul tilted his head. "We could clear them out."

I bit my bottom lip and turned to my party with an eyebrow aloft; my shield-siblings stood beside Giselle and Etienne, who were altered to look textbook blonde Nord female and male. The four did make for a rather impressive wall of muscle.

The plaited Etienne shrugged; his enormous arms rippled. "I'm game."

"If you will allow me, ma'am," Giselle was trying to be stern, though her eyes laughed. "The Lady Caylyn does not require your gold, but we could be persuaded by the offer of food and shelter for the night?"

Vilkas made a noise of protest.

"And a bath," I turned back to our potential hosts with a sweet smile. Lady Caylyn indeed.

"Of course," the corner of Perth's mouth lifted, unnerved by the amusement flitting between us, but wanting to join in on the joke. "Anything to make the lady comfortable."

"My thanks," I dipped a small bow, accepting the role of defencelessness.

Not every performance needs to challenge, a lesson from the college flit through me. It is often prudent to reward your audience by giving them exactly what they expect to see and hear.

We were showed into the rudimentary hut. A hearth blazed in the middle, table and chairs were set off to one side and a double bed occupied the other. Once we were seated the pair departed through a door to assemble refreshments and find a map of the mine, and the moment they were out of sight, Vilkas leaned over the table.

"I don't like this."

"Why am I not surprised?" Giselle trilled. "We can't all power on through the night on blood and anger alone."

"You want rest?" Vilkas was incredulous. "You volunteered us to clear a mine of draugr!"

"I meant - my sister hasn't slept properly in days."

"Actually, I slept on the cart from Solitude."

"Actually, you were knocked out with magic," Etienne winced.

"About that," Vilkas bared his teeth.

"Please, don't," I held up a hasty hand, glancing to the doorway. "We've already agreed to help," I told my shield-brothers quietly.

Vilkas and Farkas exchanged a look.

"Sure. But we're not leaving you alone," Farkas gave a small shrug.

Giselle's nose wrinkled. "She can take care of herself, no matter the face she wears to our present company."

"We know that better than any other," Vilkas grated. "But Farkas is right. He will stay with Celeste, and we three will clear out the mine with Tuthul."

Farkas frowned at his brother.

"I asked for the bath for you," I pointed out delicately, not wanting to directly ask him to stay, but I hadn't seen him in weeks. The bursts of anger reminded me of the tortured Vilkas I had first met, and besides - he really needed to clean himself up.

Vilkas growled through his teeth and clenched his fists on the table. "I won't leave my brother with these two-"

"It's fine, Vil," Etienne cut him off, waving a large hand and flashing his perfect, white teeth. "I'll stay. You and big-stuff can clear out the mine with Selly."

"You think I'd leave her with you-?!"

"You are presenting problems, not solutions," Giselle said, as stoic as he was frustrated. "Would you rather I stay, and she go with you? I'm sure our host won't start asking questions the second she Shouts."

Vilkas' eyes flashed gold, and I reached swiftly, taking hold of an arm. "Vilkas," I hushed, praying to the Gods I wouldn't need to sing him down here; what a sight for our hosts to walk in on.

Gratefully, contact worked to soothe him. My shield-brother took a deep breath, turning his eyes down as a tense silence settled. In the adjoining room, bottles clinked together softly.

His skin thumped furiously under my hand, and I realised with a little start that I could feel his racing pulse.

They hadn't hurt him, but he, or his wolf, had been caged for too long.

Farkas took the moment of quiet to voice what I'd left unsaid. "You stay with her, brother. You've not had a good rest in weeks. I can handle these two."

Perth returned with a tray of ale bottles, a single wooden goblet of wine, and a sharing plate of sliced bread and shredded meat. I sat taller, and the Nords (even the two pretending to be Nords) tried to look more like a confident band of mercenaries as the man placed down his burdens and passed around the drinks.

I gazed into my wine, stared at my reflection, and wondered if we would make Whiterun by the following night, or if we would be waylaid by the next people in need, and the next, and all the people between this miner's hut and Whiterun, whose plight had been overshadowed by the war.

But no. It was good we had stopped to help, particularly if the Jarl of Markarth had ignored their plea.

Once Tuthul emerged with the map and a pack of provisions - lamps and weapons made up the bulk of it - it was not long before Farkas, Giselle and Etienne departed with him, and then Perth left again, to ready the bath water.

The moment he was out of earshot, I started humming the melody I'd been discovering on and off for the past month. I watched with relief as my shield-brother closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, and relaxed his shoulders.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "We didn't know you'd been captured."

Vilkas opened his eyes and tilted his head. "Farkas hasn't said much, but it seems like you've had your work cut out for you."

"But still," I pressed. "We should have come looking. We wondered," I admitted uselessly, "but we thought no word meant you were still on her trail."

He chuckled wanly. "You'd never have found me. Even Farkas. No, sister - in a strange way, this has perhaps worked out for the best."

I finally met his gaze. "Even with my sister in tow?"

"I told you, I trust you," he shrugged, fidgeting. "Though...I would appreciate that explanation."

"After we clean up," I promised with a smile. "It's...not a conversation I want our host walking in on. What about a song for now? Anything you want to hear," I offered, trying to ignore the ache in my chest as I beheld his bedraggled face, his tired eyes.

He smiled to the tabletop, seemingly in thought. "What were you humming before?"

"Did you like it?" I pounced. "There are words now, though they're in the dragon tongue."

"You wrote it?"

"I'm still in the process, but I can sing what I have so far."

"That sounds perfect."

I sang, and Vilkas finished his ale, and by the time Perth returned, leaning on the door arch to listen and observe, some of the rougher edges to my brother had been smoothed.

—

We travelled for two days and set up camp in an abandoned ruin outside of Whiterun the night before we would enter the city. The letters I planned to write were strong and certain, just itching to be put to parchment.

I felt more uncertain about my decision to take Giselle into Whiterun with me.

At first, when it was time to reapply their alteration spells, I asked her to pick something closer to their true forms. Jarl Balgruuf would question why two enormous, random Nords with mis-matched voices were following me around his castle, and might take umbrage if we maintained the bodyguard ruse, as though I wasn't safe under his roof.

Giselle had agreed with an unconcerned shrug. She turned herself and Etienne into Nords again, though retained their actual heights, builds, and even some of their own features. The change was entirely non-threatening and anonymous; the pair looked normal for the region.

"Unless we're doing something specific, it's just safer to travel as Nords," Giselle explained.

Once the reality of what we were about to do set in, a greater guilt took hold of me. Bringing them into Whiterun under false pretences was a grave betrayal to the faith those within its walls had shown me. I had told Giselle I could live with her hiding who she was, but not at the cost of others trust, and I couldn't bare with the prospect of disappointing Jarl Balgruuf, Sigrid, Lucia and Dorthe, the other Companions - any within its walls, really.

Furthermore, if her spell faltered, even for a second, there was a high chance they would be discovered. There were just so many more people in Whiterun to expose them.

My shield-brothers picked up on my conflict, and after a hurried discussion, our course was altered.

Farkas, Vilkas and I would go to Whiterun as planned, but Etienne and Giselle would make for Ivarstead, and wait at the Vilemyr Inn. Once my letters were sent, and matters had cooled down, we would join them and take Giselle to Paarthurnax. Etienne sat on a figurative fence, pondering whether he'd travel all the way to the Throat of the World, or return to Riften once we'd arrived to escort her.

Vilkas liked this plan a lot more than the one where Giselle and Etienne infiltrated his home, and even offered to go ahead and secure horses, to help them on their way.

Farkas remained, but as soon as Vilkas had gone, Giselle fixed me with a pinched brow. "What?"

"Don't start," I looked to the flames of the small fire crackling between us. "Plans change, and this plan is better. Safer."

"But…?" Giselle pressed.

"But," I sighed, then explained my concerns about the size of the city, the number of people we would have to fool, and put simply, I wasn't comfortable lying to my friends about who she really was.

"Look, I appreciate your honesty, but - you think we'll be safer in a pub in Ivarstead?" Giselle tilted her head. "I…have a history with that pub, you know."

I'd forgotten about that. "You'll be disguised. Perhaps…keep to your room, if you are worried," I shrugged. "Ivarstead's populated by what, six permanent residents?" I asked, desperation leaking into my tone. "And people come and go all the time to take the Pilgrim's path. Which you will be doing also, once I join you."

"You know, Selly," Etienne winced, scratching at the back of his neck, "It makes sense. I don't mind hanging about an Inn for a couple of days while this lot smooth things over. Sounds much easier than pussy-footing around the Jarl of Whiterun."

Giselle took a considering breath, then nodded. "Okay. We make for Ivarstead at dawn," she glanced to Etienne. "You should probably get some sleep."

"What about a watch?"

"I believe Farkas has it covered?" Giselle checked.

"Hmm?" Farkas shook his head a little; he'd been staring at the fire, and had clearly zoned out.

"Are you able to keep watch?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Gonna miss you, big-stuff," Etienne stretched his arms and back a bit, patting Farkas' shoulder as he retreated to the corner of the ruin where we had set bedrolls up.

"Erm, you too I guess," Farkas shot me a glance as he rose and moved to the hole serving as a doorway, placing his back to us.

I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a bedroll and leave Farkas on watch as well, but my sister shifted around the campfire to sit next to me, drawing her knees up to rest her chin on them.

"You think I'm going to betray you," she voiced; a quiet fact.

"I don't," I glanced pointedly. "Not after…all we've been through," I dismissed.

"The others do."

"I don't speak for the others."

"Really?" Giselle smirked. "You sure about that, Harbinger?"

I narrowed my eyes and tried not to smirk back. There was no malice; it almost felt like banter.

Her amusement settled, and she looked back to the fire in contemplation. While her true face was hidden under broader features and a mop of white-blonde plaits, her eyes still looked like hers.

"I'm tired," she admitted. "Tired of trying to be something I'm not. You know I'm never going back to him, right?"

"Who?"

She pushed my shoulder a little. "Ulfric."

I nodded slowly, chewing over the variety of responses I could give. I was tired, too.

"What about the Thalmor?" I eventually asked. "When I saw you at the Embassy, they thought you were their spy?"

Giselle groaned and looked to the bedraggled ceiling. "It was…the other way around," she held out her hands. "Ulfric saw an opportunity to gain intelligence, and I played my part in gaining that intelligence."

"As his spy?"

"I volunteered to do it," Giselle shot me a sideways look.

Repressing a shudder, I shook my head. "That's…what I don't understand. The things you did in his name. Why did you do them?"

Giselle smiled, but it was sad. "Because…we had a common goal. We were partners."

"Do you love him?"

My sister tilted her head to one side. "Yes and no," she settled.

"How does that even work, with Onmund?"

Giselle shot me a wrinkled look. "You do know love isn't something that only happens once to most people?"

"That's not what I was saying," I worried my bottom lip. "It just sounds...very complicated."

She glanced away. "It isn't love in the same way I love Onmund. But I understand Ulfric, understand his motivations. He understands me, too, for the most part. And - as you know," she waved an idle hand, "I thought I needed him, to become Dragonborn, or to make the next one."

"Oh," my face flushed, the only visible sign of my indignation. I didn't know if I would ever not be angry at Esbern for manipulating her into believing that had been necessary.

A log split in the fire with a crack, and a few sparks drifted up, winking out at eye level.

"Does Ulfric love you?"

"Hmm," Giselle mused. "He said he did, sometimes. But. I don't really know. His love never mattered to me."

"How could it not matter?"

"Like you've never done something because you felt it necessary?" she lifted an eyebrow, a spark of banter returned. "I think he loves the idea of me. No," she shook her head. "The Septims. It's always been about blood, to him. He loves the idea of owning a Septim, be it as his woman, or his child. Remember the Nightgate Inn?"

"How could I forget?" I feigned casualness while my heart pounded in my ears. "It was when I found out you were pretending to be me. I have no idea why you wanted to capture me, you already had everything you wanted."

"Yeah," Giselle's eyes widened, and she turned her head away. "That was his way of forming an alliance."

"He's insane," I told her. "I would never ally with him, he's responsible for the deaths of our parents."

"I did try to remind him of that, but," Giselle shrugged. "He gets these ideas, these strategies - some are brilliant, but some are…" she winced. "He thought if you stood before him, if he had a chance to speak to you, he could convince you to...well, join with him, and help legitimise his claim as High King."

"But I did stand before him, and he said nothing of that. He just…threatened me, and gloated about what you two were doing behind closed doors."

Giselle's eyes shot to me. "What?"

"When I approached him as Thane of Whiterun, for Jarl Balgruuf?" I reminded her. "You were away in Riften, apparently."

"Oh, that," she let out a breath, almost a laugh. "I'd forgotten about that. You made him so mad that day."

"The feeling is mutual," I muttered.

She snorted. "You know he believed whoever won Whiterun would win you?"

"Win me?"

"Your allegiance," she clarified.

My skin crawled. A memory of that horrid confrontation flit through my mind; Ulfric, big and overbearing, telling me with certainty that when he took Whiterun, we would have another chat.

"You're right, he has some really strange ideas," I managed quietly.

Giselle sighed and sat back. "It doesn't matter what he wants any more. He can't have it."

I turned to look at her, uncertain of what to say. The insinuations and layers of complexity were making me feel hopelessly naive, and though I understood the need to accomplish tasks for something bigger than oneself, I did not understand how she had let anyone push her so far.

"Why did you kill Ralof?"

She didn't skip a beat. "He killed our mother."

"Because Ulfric told you that, did he?" I guessed. "We know who killed father, too. He saw that happen," I choked. "I saw that happen. Yet you didn't kill him."

She met my gaze, her eyes full of uncertainty. "How do you know Ralof?"

I took pause to collect myself. I had known the man for a matter of hours. Had the Imperial army not descended on the Stormcloak camp, he might have been the last face I ever saw, though I wondered if someone who had been like a brother to Hadvar would be capable of interrogating - torturing - a scared girl who posed him no threat.

I settled for what had actually occurred between us, instead of Ulfric's orders. "He offered me…kindness, when I was picked up by his patrol. Right before...Helgen."

Giselle cursed. "Of course he did," she muttered with dark regret. "That conversation with him finally makes sense. And I suppose he got a real good look at you, didn't he?"

"What do you mean?"

My sister clenched her hands; her fingers dug into her trousers. "Prior to Helgen, Ulfric and I conducted our plans…well. In relative secret. I was known to only a handful of his most trusted, and when I travelled with the army, I disguised myself, rather than risk word somehow getting back to father.

"But that changed once you became Dragonborn, and Ulfric decided to pretend I was you," she muttered. "I was made a General. I was invited to all of the meetings, the rallies. He wanted everyone to see that the Dragonborn had chosen him."

I rolled my eyes. "He's an idiot," I muttered.

Giselle shrugged. "It worked, so long as nobody in Ulfric's army knew you."

My eyes bulged. "So what, Ralof knew you weren't me, and that meant he had to die?"

"Ulfric didn't say that."

"No, he told you Ralof killed our mother so you'd eliminate a person who could expose his ruse!"

"Ugh!" Giselle clenched her hands again and glanced up. "You don't know Ulfric, Celeste - he would not set up one of his loyal soldiers like that," she waved her hand in frustration.

"And the man, the General who killed our father," I tried again, "he wasn't to be tampered with?"

"Why do you care so much about what happened to Ralof?" Giselle hissed, eyes bright with guilt; so she did harbour regrets on this regard. "He was a Stormcloak. He would have killed your darling soldier-boy, if given a chance."

It was like she had thrown a bucket of ice water over me; my blood chilled.

"You're wrong," I shuddered. "He may not have meant anything to you," I admitted quietly. "But people cared about him. He had a family, in Riverwood. And - he would not have killed Hadvar. They knew each other."

Giselle squeezed her eyes closed and she pressed her forehead to her knees. After a pause, she asked in a defeated tone, "Ralof knew Hadvar?"

"They grew up together. They were like brothers, before the war separated them."

"Do you know if…Ulfric knew of this?" she hazarded.

I was about to ask how could he have - but then I remembered the confrontation between Ralof and Hadvar in Helgen.

I nodded. "Stormcloak was escaping with Ralof when Hadvar was getting me out of there. We crossed paths, and - he saw them argue."

She nodded, a pallor of resignation washing her face. "Hadvar was instrumental in preventing Ulfric from gaining the Jagged Crown."

The dread within me continued to rise, thick in my throat.

"Ulfric may have perceived their…past, as a threat to Ralof's loyalty, and along with his knowledge of the Dragonborn's true identity…" Giselle posed with regret. "I don't know why Ulfric insisted…I be the one to carry out the…orders," she finished quietly.

I had some idea; exposure of the ploy aside, it was very likely done to drive a wedge further between us.

"I'm sorry he made you kill for him," I said.

"I'm sorry I let him talk me into it. I should have asked more questions, but-"

"It's okay, he would have only punished you, and made someone else do it."

Giselle huffed. "I could have prevented it," she murmured darkly. "Now a man who probably shouldn't be is dead, by my hand."

Berating Giselle about it wouldn't bring him back, or help her to resolve what she had done, and I searched for a change in topic.

Unfortunately so much confusion had occurred between us, I couldn't come up with a lighter thread. There was one more thing, one more revelation she had made that was itching at my brain, rife with uncertainty, and it wound out of my throat, before I could think better of asking about it.

"You said to Esbern, you can't have children any more?" I asked, my voice suddenly gravelly.

Giselle nodded, eyes faraway. "I suppose…I should tell you, after all I've put you through."

"You're under no such obligation," I chastised quietly, flushing; asking her to talk about this too would only make her feel worse. "All I really want to know is that you're okay, that you're not sick or something."

She blinked, then glanced to me, strangely emotionless. "I fell pregnant to Ulfric about a month before mum and dad died."

"Giselle," I hushed, horrified. "You don't have to talk about this if you don't want to."

"No, it's time we talked about this," she resolved softly. "I told Ulfric I was pregnant when he returned from Helgen. I didn't know you were the Dragonborn everyone had been waiting for all along," her eyes reflected the flames. "But he had some idea, after meeting you, and it was confirmed within a week. I thought he would throw me out of Windhelm, as though I had known, and lied to him," she shook her head, eyes distant with memories. "But - he didn't. He didn't care I wasn't the Dragonborn. If my sister was the actual Dragonborn, it confirmed my lineage. He was pleased by the prospect of a Septim heir of his making. It was all he'd wanted out of our alliance, anyway."

"But - you wanted to be Dragonborn?" I asked, appalled.

Giselle shrugged. "I don't know, it had never been a choice before that moment. Becoming Dragonborn had been my obligation - and suddenly - it wasn't."

I nodded, sobering. Such a realisation would create…conflict. Relief and regret.

"And…what happened to the baby?"

My sister nodded slowly, to herself almost. "One day - it was just after the Embassy party - I started bleeding. I don't know why. I fainted, and when I woke, the baby was...gone. So was my womb, my ovaries. The Thalmor…" her eyelids fluttered as she considered for a beat. "They had been very pleased I was pregnant to Ulfric. They saw it as evidence of my infiltration of his home, perhaps even his heart, which would make him even easier to control, to their mind. They told me they tried to save her, but she was too…small."

"Do you really believe that?"

Giselle shrugged weakly. "I know what they're capable of," she said in a cooler tone. "But Rulindil's healer had to remove everything, just to save me."

I inched closer to wrap an arm around her shoulder, wondering how my sister had been pregnant for so long and I'd - never even known. She'd always been in armour, and once a flowing dress - not to mention her alteration spells could have hidden the changes, if she didn't want anyone to know.

"I'm so sorry."

"I think I'm suppose to say 'it's okay' - but, it's not," she shrugged, sniffing a little. "It will never be okay. I wanted her, more than I'd ever wanted to become Dragonborn, and I didn't understand that until she was gone. And I hate not talking about her, as though she never existed," she glanced down, picked at a bit of fluff on her leggings. "I don't think Ulfric knows I've lost her yet. They healed me up, told me to return to him. Everything I'd been working for was over, so I went straight to Esbern instead. But so did the Thalmor," her nose wrinkled. "It seemed they tortured Etienne for enough information to move in. It…wasn't a confrontation I could come back from. No," she glanced to me, her expression hard. "I won't be going back to the Thalmor, either."

"I wish you'd told me what was going on," I whispered. "I would have tried to help."

"I didn't want you to know," she rest her head on my shoulder as she wiped at her eyes. "After we escaped the Ratway, Esbern made contact with Delphine, and they took us to Sky Haven Temple. He showed me Alduin's wall, and convinced me you had to see it, too. Did it really tell you nothing?"

"Nothing I didn't already know."

Giselle sighed, and grew quiet. The weight of her loss pressed at me, and while I was grateful for her segue, I found I didn't want to dismiss the little niece I would never get to know.

The feeling must have been a million times worse for her.

After minutes of silence, she resumed quietly. "You don't think Alduin can be defeated?"

I shook my head. "He can't be killed. He's the son of Akatosh."

"Then what hope is there for us? Is the world supposed to be destroyed by dragons?"

"That's…no, Alduin's true purpose is something else, to unmake and remake," I winced. "I don't know what it entails exactly. But it's not what he's doing now."

Giselle tilted her head to cross her brows at me, and I realised that her knowledge of what I was hoping to achieve had been warped by the Blades.

So I told her everything I could think to tell her. She needed to know it all; know the truth.

I told her of the purpose I had discovered; that it was my duty to free the dragons of Alduin's thrall, not kill them and absorb their power. I explained what little I understood of Alduin - his duty, his betrayal, his control of the other dragons. I told her of how an Elder Scroll might be used to travel the time wound and learn the Dragonrend shout to cripple Alduin, and to learn how the ancient Tongues had sent Alduin forward in time, for a future Dragonborn - me - to deal with.

My sister wrinkled her nose. "Then Alduin's wall is depicting this - Dragonrend Shout? Or the Shout that sends him forward in time?"

I shrugged. "Perhaps neither, perhaps both."

"But - you can make Shouts on your own," Giselle continued; I had told her of what happened in Dawnstar. "Why do you still need the Elder Scroll? You could create a new Shout to banish him, send him forward - or even return him to his purpose."

I tilted my head, considering. "If we could make up Shouts for anything, Paarthurnax would have known the meaning of Daan Tey Vo when I first met him."

She questioned why he hadn't, and I told her Farkas' thoughts, about blood being part of a Shout's knowledge and realisation: only I had been able to Shout those words, because they were the name of my - our - ancestor.

Giselle sat up, lifting her head off my shoulder. "What of our other ancestors?" she asked. "Martin Septim - perhaps even father, and grandfather - by that logic, you could turn their names into Shouts."

I had to tamp down on the excited flutter in my chest. "We'd need to know what the dragons called them," I decided. "There's a chance Paarthurnax didn't actually know Dante's name could be turned into a Shout. It could still be a coincidence. But it's a good idea," I smiled, though there was a depth of sadness it couldn't quite reach. "It's worth trying. I'll ask Paarthurnax, when we go to him."

She crossed her brows, then suddenly her eyes widened. "Paarthurnax is a dragon, isn't he?"

I nodded, wondering how, in my explanations, I had failed to mention that. "He is."

"You think I should learn from a dragon?"

"Sure - our ancestors did."

"A dragon I can't speak to?"

"Paarthurnax knows the common tongue. Dante taught him," I eased.

"Dante," Giselle repeated in disbelief. "Or Dante-vo," she frowned. "What does his name mean?"

"Daan Tey Vo," I sighed. "Fate Story Undoing. 'I dismantle the destiny made for and taken from you'."

My sister closed her eyes and shuddered.

"Can you Shout it at me?" she asked, a near whisper.

"What?" I sat taller, eyed her. "I'm not Shouting at you."

"Not - I don't mean-!" she said in a withering way, then bit her bottom lip. "I just," she faltered, seemed to reconsider. "I wonder what it would do?"

"I don't think it would…truly undo the past, if that's what you're asking."

Giselle smiled sadly, almost to herself. "I'm honestly not sure what I'm asking."

I wound my arm around her again, unable to dispel the knot of worry formed at her request. "I'm not going to Shout at you. Unless you annoy me and deserve it," I attempted a smirk.

She huffed, shaking her head. "This whole…everything you've done is so much bigger than I thought it was."

"The same could be said for the path you were on," I returned.

"And so our paths converge," Giselle murmured idly, eyes faraway. A wry smile split her expression. "What do you think Esbern and Delphine are going to do now?"

I snorted and let go of my sister, to lean back on my hands. "I don't care, so long as they stay out of our way."

"Yeah," Giselle mused, drifting off into thought. "You don't think they'll go mouthing off to the wrong people about the Emperor thing, just to spite me, though?"

I stared at her. "The Blades killed the Emperor and Lord Vici," I deadpanned. "Esbern personally ensured the Penitus Oculatus believed so. And knowing Delphine," I tilted, "she won't want to give up the glory of that victory for the Blades being penned in the official records."

"I suppose," she sighed. "You're not worried they'll come after us, or our friends?"

My jaw locked; I stared at the flames and sent a silent plea to the Divines.

"They wouldn't dare," I muttered.

Giselle said nothing. Despite my brave words, I had to shudder at what Delphine and Esbern might choose to do with their newfound insignificance.

A/n: finally, finally a new chapter. A million thank yous to those sticking with me and this story.