Guide:
Dwemeris
Thoughts
"Speech"
"Dovahzul"
Warnings/Disclaimer: see chapter 4
Chapter Warning(s): It's long. Expect blood, gore, death.
A/N: I didn't want to keep you guys waiting for it any longer. This chapter is MASSIVE compared to most of this fic's chapters holy shit. I hope it takes you to the edge of your seat!
Last time… Here goes everything. The door opens, and I walk into the Hall of Valor.
Revised: 21-3-2020
Chapter 71 – Of Black Wings Unfurled
As I enter the large hall, the mouthwatering smells of roasting meat and thick vegetables stews hit me like a raging dragon's breath in the face. But the smells and warmth of the flames merrily dancing above their golden braziers are a stark contrast to the general mood of the room. I allow myself a moment to take it all in: the high vaulted ceilings, plush and embroidered carpets spread across the floor, long stone tables laden with dishes – meats, cheeses, things I've never even seen before - and goblets and tankards with all drinks imaginable. At the head of it all, looking out over the fire that slowly roasts an entire boar, sits an empty throne.
Large but not opulent, beautiful but still in the simple Nordic lines and carved knots. It's surprisingly homey. But I suppose that could be my familiarity with Nordic architecture.
The crowd isn't in any mood to celebrate. They haven't noticed my arrival yet – the heroes of old, in gleaming armor and carrying impressive weapons. Men, women, and otherwise – the one thing they seem to share is the frowns on their faces, the twitchiness of their fingers as their gazes flit across the hall.
Looking for a threat?
Nah. I know that look.
They're itching for a fight.
I sheathe my axes lest it be seen as the challenge that they're looking for, and quietly make my way down the stairs.
They all look plenty willing to fight to me. Hopefully at least one or two will actually follow me to fight Alduin. Tsun mentioned a 'wrathful onslaught'. Gods, please tell me that he meant ALL of these warriors and mages are willing to take up arms with me. I could use an army at my back, it would do wonders for my confidence in the upcoming fight.
Several of the warriors – women in thick furs and steel and studded plate, are gathered together at the table closest to me.
"Sweet Shor, how much longer must we stand here and do nothing?"
"Heed the words of Ysgramor. He told us there'd be a Dragonborn on their way to fight."
"So? My steel is plenty! I need no doom-driven pup to slay a mighty beast! I thirst for battle against the damned worm!"
None of them spot me, but fists are balled and answering grumblings echo across the entire hall at the loud exclamation.
Well, now or never.
"I'll take you up on that!" I call, stepping into the lights of the hall at last and trying not to flinch as every pair of eyes swivels to me. For a few moments, the entire place falls silent, an expectant hush. A tall blonde Nord with a beard impressive even by Dwemer standards, wearing ancient Nordic armor, is the one to step up towards me. Even from a distance, his eyes are blue as ice. The heroes in the hall glance between the two of us, watching, waiting.
"We welcome you, Dragonborn." He states solemnly. "Our doors have stood empty since Alduin first set his soul-snare here. By Shor's command we sheathed our blades and ventured not the vale's dark mist."
"Did Shor tell you I would be coming?" I glance at the empty throne, resting a hand on one of my axes. "Can you fight Alduin with me, now that I'm here?"
The Nord gives a small nod. "Indeed. Three await your word to loose their fury upon this perilous foe." I glance at the group of warrior women I heard talking earlier, who stand with crossed arms and sarcastically raised eyebrows.
"Only three?"
"Only three who have fought him before, and wish to face the World-Eater once more to get their just vengeance. No other here has right to their battle. There is Gormlaith -"
I throw up my hands. "Hold that thought. One thing. Are there no others allowed to fight Alduin than these three by divine decree or on basis of Nord rules of honor?" The Nord twitches. I'm not sure if it's in annoyance or amusement.
"It is custom to let those who lay claim to a foe be the first to face them."
So they're not the only three warriors who want to face Alduin. They're just the ones who called dibs on fighting him. What Nordic honor bullshit. A fight is a fight, and against a foe like Alduin… he doesn't deserve honorable combat.
I nod. "Alright, thank you. Please continue."
The man clears his throat. "Hmph. Three wait for you, Dragonborn. Gormlaith the Fearless, glad-hearted in battle; Hakon the Valiant, heavy-handed warrior; Felldir the Old, far-seeing and grim."
He gestures towards the three people approaching us. A blonde woman, clad in steel plate, violent purple warpaint slashed across her harsh features, face lit up with battle-lust. Gormlaith, no doubt. A man blind in one eye wearing ancient Nordic armor, guardedly looking me over, Hakon One-eye. An old man in greybeard robes, standing tall but tiredly, gaze never wavering from me. He must be Felldir the Old, what creative names were picked out for them. Sheesh. Felldir appears confused.
"I was unaware Dwemer yet lived in this Age."
"They don't. If the word of the Dov is to be believed, I am the backup plan."
"Ah." He nods. "You are Vulthuryol's cunning enterprise, to thwart Alduin when all else has failed. Paarthurnax spoke of it once, long ago."
The other two now seem more interested. "I care not for the circumstances that led you to this doom, Dragonborn. But I am gladdened that it did." Gormlaith says after a moment. She draws her blade and twirls it with a blood-thirsty grin. "At long last, Alduin's doom is now ours to seal. Just speak the word and with high hearts, we'll hasten forth to smite the worm, wherever he lurks."
"Hold, comrade." Felldir sighs with all the fervor of a single parent looking after a hyperactive murderous child. I empathize. He enthusiasm reminds me of Cicero. "Let us council take, before battle is blindly joined. Alduin's mist is more than a snare."
He turns to me and continues to explain. The other two warriors shuffle their feet and Gormlaith rolls her eyes. Clearly, they've heard this all before. Probably a dozen times. If he's as verbal as Paarthurnax, make that three dozen times.
"Its shadowy gloom is Alduin's shield and cloak. It is powerful, and not easy force to break through. But with our four voices combined, we can blast the mist and bring him to battle."
"Felldir speaks wisdom," Hakon picks up, crossing his arms. "The World-Eater, coward, fears you, Dragonborn. We must drive away his mist, shouting together, and then unsheathe our blades in desperate battle with our black-winged foe."
They draw their weapons as one, watching me for a signal to leave. For the second time since arriving in the Hall of Valor, I throw up my hands to keep them from rushing off or talking over me. Sithis spare me from overly battle-ready Nords.
"Hold on! You three laid claim on Alduin? You kept other warriors here from joining the fight?"
"Alduin escaped us long ago. Today we take our well-tempered revenge." Felldir states firmly, eyes blazing with fire.
My mind makes a garbled sound. Of all fucking…
I try to resist rolling my eyes, or face palming, or tearing my hair out, or curling up into a ball and crying, cursing them, or all of the above. I make due with a deep breath to settle the turbulent emotions making a mess of my insides, somewhere between my throat and my stomach. Fear, aye. But right now, mainly frustration.
"First of all, I saw what happened. Alduin did not escape you, you threw him into the time stream because you couldn't beat him and made the bastard my problem. Secondly, I am not here to face Alduin in honorable combat. I'm not here for revenge, and I'm not here to fight in desperation."
I meet each of their eyes in turn. The attention of the rest of the Hall of Valor is still on us. I can't bring myself to care. Let them listen. Let them hear. Let them REACT to it.
"I'm not here to fight." I draw my right axe in a single fluid moment, pointing it at the three warriors with gritted teeth.
"I am here to win." A pause. "And I refuse to not take every precaution in facing him, I refuse to NOT take help when offered, and I refuse to let your outdated ideas of honor in combat lose us this fight. Revoke your claim! Alduin is not only our foe to defeat! All of Sovngarde has suffered, and all of Sovngarde has the right to this fight! Do not let your fury and ego get in the way of reason, not against a foe like the World-Eater."
There is a prolonged silence. The three legendary heroes look absolutely blindsided. Looks are exchanges. Approving murmurs sound through the hall. I'm just hoping I didn't just chase off my only backup.
Hakon clears his throat awkwardly. "Ah. Perhaps… We were hasty in judgement."
"Fine." Gormlaith growls, tightening the grip on her sword. "If they wish to have a share in the glory, who am I to gainsay them?"
Finally, Felldir nods. "Your reason is sound. We may be glad, then, that such is the rule of Dwemer." The tip of his long sword taps the floor. "We revoke our claim. All who choose may join this fight."
Excited shuffling and murmurs spread across the Hall of Valor. Blades are unsheathed, shields are banged against the stone, and two bards start to pound out a booming rhythm on their drums, a heartbeat, a preparation, a battle hymn.
Behind me, the first blonde Nord man clasps my shoulder. "Perhaps you are right, Dragonborn. Perhaps this is a fight for all of Sovngarde."
I turn to glare at him. "Then let them fight! Shor bade you to hold your onslaught. He told you to wait. For the Dragonborn, as the prophecy foresaw. And I am here. The time of waiting is over. The fight is now. Gormlaith, Hakon, Felldir and I will draw out the worm."
I turn to the rest of the Hall, meeting the eye of one of the women from before, the one that didn't want to wait for a "doom-driven pup" to steal the glory. "Let us end this threat together."
I hadn't expected roaring agreement, but I got it anyway. Have you ever been in a room full of people, grinning and shouting and howling battle cries, willing to listen to you, willing to fight at your side, to die at your side? Hyped on the oncoming fight, the beating of drums shaking your teeth, making the floors tremble and being joined by stomping of armored feet?
It's a rush. Terrifying, too.
All these people rely on me to come out victorious.
We can do this. I grin and draw my other axe, nodding at the three warriors who swore to defeat Alduin centuries ago. Three matching, feral grins meet me, and we're off outside, back across the whalebone bridge, a group of warriors and mages of old hot on our heels. Even the blonde Nord joins in. He laughs at me. "Long has it been since battle I tasted! Let it be known that Ysgramor will not turn down a chance to change the tidings of Fate!"
"Wait, you're Ysgramor?" I do a double-take. He laughs again.
"And you are Ysmir. And on this day, we are brothers in arms."
The mist awaits in front of us. I keep my axes in my hands, ready for any unexpected movement. Next to me stand the three warriors, each braced to Shout at the dark magic that hides our opponent.
This is it.
I expected it to feel different. Monumental, somehow. An incoming doom, a sense of danger, a racing heartbeat and ringing in my ears. I expected to feel the full weight of history bearing down on me. History has its eyes on me. This battle would decide the fate of a great many people, more than I had ever met, or would ever meet. To thwart Alduin, when all else has failed. The backup plan.
Laat Krif. The last battle. To prove once and for all that I am Kroniid. Conqueror. Vanquisher.
The anticipation of a good fight is there. The rush of blood and adrenaline making my fingertips tingle. My breathing deepens and evens as I prepare to use the Thu'um. But most of all, overpowering fear and desperation…
A worthy challenge. A powerful foe.
Battle-lust, my very soul alight with it. Pure and simple, deep inside my soul.
I'm surprised to find myself looking forwards to the fight. A soft exhale. A firmer grip. Hushed anticipation behind me as the warriors of the Hall fan out across the rocky hill next to Tsun, waiting for the way to be cleared.
Tsun himself seems willing to sit back and keep an eye out. "The eyes of Shor are upon you this day. Defeat Alduin, and destroy his soul-snare." He helpfully remarks as I pass him by. You think I don't KNOW that already?! At least, if anything, he'll keep Alduin from crossing the whalebone bridge. Any warrior can retreat there if they have to. Good.
"Clear Skies – combine our Shouts!" Gormlaith calls out to me, and I nod at her and breathe deep.
"LOK VAH KOOR!"
Four Shouts echo out across the vale, the mist receding at their combined force.
In the far distance, we hear Alduin: "Ven Mul Riik!"
It's followed by a vengeful blast of air in our faces and the return of the mist.
"Petty." I remark. Hakon snorts.
"Again!" Gormlaith barks, annoyed.
The cycle repeats itself.
"Does his strength have no end? Is our struggle in vain?" Hakon asks, grim-faced and eyes a bit too wide for the calm he's trying to project. Behind us, the inhabitants of the Hall of Valor are deathly still, poised to attack. All eyes are on the mist now that Alduin's Voice has given his presence there away.
"BULLSHIT! I could beat his sorry ass back at the Throat of the World! He can be beaten!" I yell at the one-eyed hero. Gormlaith echoes my call.
"Stand fast! His strength is failing! Once more!"
"LOK VAH KOOR!"
No answer comes this time. We wait with baited breath. A drop of sweat slowly crawls from my hairline down my forehead. Behind me, a weapon clicks against a steel bracer as its owner adjusts their grip. The world is silent.
We don't have to wait long.
There.
A large form crests the hill. Against the backdrop of the swirling star-filled sky Alduin's outline is more clearly defined than ever – black wings unfurled, tattered at their edges and drowning out all that is light and good in their shadow. Rows of yellowed teeth, chipped and set in purple gums are bared at us, each the size of a grown man's arm, sharper than any ebony sword. But it's the eyes that throw me off. Red, burning cold and dark like the unnatural flames underneath Skyrim's earth, in tombs full of rot and death and the terrible dragon priest lairs. There is no mercy there. Only the fire – all-consuming, too-hot and focused on me. Those eyes promise pain. They promise wrath.
They promise me a challenge.
"Bring it on." I mutter under my breath as my doom advances. Alduin roars as if he's heard and answers, and meteors start raining from the sky.
"Here he comes!" Gormlaith calls out, raising her sword over her head. "To arms! TO ARMS!"
The stones of Sovngarde themselves seem to shudder under the answering cry.
"I have killed you once, now your souls will feed me!" Alduin calls out mockingly at the three warriors. But this battle is not four versus him. As the hail of spells and arrows rains down on the black dragon, it quickly becomes apparent he's not taking damage.
Arrows bounce off, spells dissipate, nothing seems to make an impact. I was planning to wait until the long-distance fighters brought the dragon to the ground.
That's not going to be an option.
I can only see one way to go about this. He wants to jeer at us for being mortals? I'll give him a taste.
"JOOR ZAH FRUL!"
The sound Alduin makes as he crashes into the dirt gives me a vicious sense of satisfaction that curls around my chest, seeping into my bones. Challenge.
This is a battle of giants. Dragon. Dovahkiin. The Heroes worthy of Shor's own Halls.
The world descends into chaos.
Like ants descending onto a crumb, every last warrior in the field falls onto Alduin. They push past me, roughly, weapons drawn. Instead of looking for who shoved me, I stand my ground and keep an eye on the dragon's movements.
I wait. Alduin rises into the sky. My Thu'um rumbles through the vale and he comes back down, now far closer to me than at first. Our eyes meet. Red and gold. I bare my teeth at him.
We both rush in.
At my sides, two people join. I don't get time to check who, too busy ducking out of the way of the blast of fire headed straight for me. The tips of my hair burn, sulfur tickling my nose. The warrior to my left did not get so lucky.
Can the dead in Sovngarde die twice?
No. He's groaning.
Ignore it.
I glance forwards just in time to swing my axes. Blow. Parry. Dodge. A dizzying pattern. People around me making it harder to move out of the way. I step on someone's toes. She grunts and is encased in Alduin's maw in the next second, tossed aside like a toy.
When Alduin takes to the sky again, I take a few precious second to survey the battlefield.
For legendary heroes, they sure are being swatted about like flies. Out of practice.
Fodder.
"ALL THOSE INJURED, FALL BACK TO THE HALL!" Hakon yells, clearly having come to the same conclusion. Some stagger. Some can't get up. Alduin swoops low and pitches one of the warriors into the chasm next to the bridge.
I wince.
Then the beast is at my throat again and it's all I can do to avoid getting skewered by teeth.
"JOOR ZAH FRUL!"
Straight in his face, it's enough to send him staggering. I smirk and move in for a fatal blow to the eye, open my mouth to Shout fire at him – then I choke on my tongue.
"Grk-!"
The world blurs.
I only process that I've been hit when I crash into the ground to the chorus of snapping bones, flung like a ragdoll by the force of Alduin's blow and ending up sprawled against the rock next to the whalebone bridge with stars bursting behind my flickering eyelids. I forgot the tail.
A wet cough. A desperate gasp for air that's been knocked out. My hands are empty when they grasp uselessly at my chest, my body convulsing and I can't think.
It hurts.
It hurts, it hurts, FUCK! It hurts so much I can't fucking-
I scream into the sky in agony, rolling onto the dirt and letting out a weaker cry when I land on my arm and it's bending the wrong way. Alarmed cries sound in the distance. Too far. They're too far away. I need to think – I need to – I need to think, damnit!
Vomit spews from my mouth. I choke on it and try to blink the stars out of my eyes. It's stained red. That's not good. My addled mind provides vaguely.
My breath comes out in too-sharp gasps. Through the blur and the stinging of the tears in my eyes I see Alduin's wings block out the sky as he descends towards me. A vision straight out of Vaermina's worst creations. There's blood on his fangs and it isn't his.
Alduin meets my eyes and smiles. You've already lost, Dovahkiin.
Fuck.
I'm going to die. I'm going to die here and it will all have been for nothing.
Amidst the overwhelming panic and sense of impending doom, I can only imagine the kind of hell that would be raised if I told someone that. Especially if I told my friends and family. Living or dead.
They'd never let me live it down.
"FUS RO DAH!"
The Thu'um tears itself from my throat like so much glass shards and barbed wire, and my vocal chords produce a strange clicking sound when I try to cry out in pain. Blood pools inside my mouth, staining my teeth and tongue with the taste of copper. Through the wave of dizziness that threatens to send me into oblivion, I see Alduin swerve to the side as the Shout hits.
All this pain, and it only bought me seconds. If that much.
I can barely breath, the air a thick, freezing sludge that is both a blessing and a curse as it passes through my parched, bleeding throat.
I can't do it. I can't I can't it hurts too much..!
Squeezing my eyes shut, I manage another breath, clawing at the dirt. I need my axes. I'm going to die. I'm going to fucking die. But I'm not going to die without a weapon in my hands. Every inhalation is torture. My ribs cry out in protest. My right arm refuses to move.
I spit out a mouthful of blood as darkness creeps along the edges of my vision, hearing only the rushing in my ears and the desperate pounding of my heart. More hot tears stream down my face.
It can't be for nothing. It can't have been for nothing. I can't. I can't.
I sob. It hurts so much.
I'm going to die.
I'm going to die.
Alduin swoops in with a deafening roar, blood-colored eyes trained on me.
He completely misses the massive two-handed battle axe that comes for his head and sends him off-track when it leaves a bleeding gash along his jaw. Two bear fur-clad boots enter my vision.
I force my eyes up towards the back of a familiar man. When I recognize him, I can't help my bewilderment. He doesn't even like me.
"GET UP, DRAGONBORN!"
Of all people on Nirn or any other realm, Galmar Stone-Fist stands over me, massive battle-axe in hand and eyes flinty as steel. I manage a choking sound in surprise, but no actual words make it past my ruined throat. Next to him, Savos Aren rushes up to me and sinks to his knees, restoration spells at the ready. I give him a questioning glance.
"After the cursed mist dissipated, every person waiting or lost within it started towards the Hall of Valor." The aged Dunmer explains with a grim smirk. "Some of them turned tail and ran. Others are helping. I recognize you – You were at the College, the one to help my students." He pauses, hands moving from my chest to my throat, the bells and soothing warmth following and -
Sithis, it feels good to breathe again.
"Consider this my thanks, for aiding them where I couldn't." Savos finishes with a flourish, scowling at Alduin as he's distracted by his three foes of old. "Colette would have my head for allowing you out of my sight, nevermind letting you go back into battle. But go. Go, and end this. And – try not to rely on your right arm too much. I haven't the time to set it properly." He rises and runs off to the next warrior on the ground without further hesitation. They might not be able to die, being dead already, but they can get hurt in battle, and Savos tries to keep as many as possible on their feet.
Galmar reaches out a hand to me with a feral grin. "I'd say good to see you, but I didn't really miss your pointy-eared mug." He presses an axe into my hand. For some reason, I never seem to be able to hang onto both of them in difficult fights.
I accept his help and let him haul me onto my feet, and I feel no shame when I overreach and stumble into his broad shoulder. "Thanks. Didn't miss you either."
"Then we agree."
And he leaves me to charge at Alduin with a war cry. Leaves me to gather my bearings while the big draconic bastard is distracted for a few minutes. Man has balls of diamond even if he's an asshole.
I manage to breathe again. I swallow experimentally as I hang on to my axes more firmly. One's a little chipped, but both are still serviceable. My throat still hurts. But it's not all-encompassing. It's not the distracting, deadly sort of burn and glass shards that would get me panicked.
Panicked, and thus also killed.
But I can breathe again. I mutter a curse under my breath and scowl at Alduin's flying form. I steady myself.
I won't let myself give up that easily.
"Keep up the assault!" I order the few still capable of fighting. Alduin is bloodied, his life's liquid black as tar and barely visible against his scales. Blades and axes and hammers are similarly covered in the vicious ooze.
"JOOR ZAH FRUL!"
I only just manage to keep my aim true when my throat protests vehemently at the Shout. I grit my teeth and bear with it. Alduin is bloodied. He is grounded. He can be hurt. He can feel mortality.
He can be defeated.
Arrows hiss through the sky and meet their mark like snakes sinking fangs into prey.
Blades sing and dance through the air and turn the ground to mud.
I taste vomit in my mouth, blood when I lick my lips. My fingers tremble as I tighten my grip on my weapon.
I join the fight again.
"COME ON! Just a bit more!" A woman calls. Just a bit more. Hold on a bit longer.
There's a moment of resistance before my axe digs into scaled flesh. My armor is wet with blood. Beyond repair. It digs into my stomach, but my world is narrowed down to one pinpoint. Hit. Tear. Kill.
"NIID! I AM UNENDING! I CANNOT DIE!"
The next strike to his neck ends it.
Tendrils of energy, red and vivid purple start to seep from Alduin, pouring out and up, spiraling into the very center of the swirling vortex far above us. His cries are beyond Words now, wordless, desperate, flailing, dying.
Can't die? Bitch, you thought.
Cracks of red start glowing along his body, like fragments of breaking pottery. They grow brighter and brighter as Alduin thrashes in pain, until with an unearthly, unholy cry he spreads his wings one final time and bursts into light – skin bursting at the seams, black tar pouring in rivets from his body as his life and soul are sucked into the sky.
There's an explosion of light and sound and I'm forced to the ground, blinded and disoriented.
When I open my eyes, not even ashes remain.
My fingers are numb. The ground is turned to mud, black and red blood mixing together in small puddles. There's an unmistakable stench of ruptured bowels. It smells like shit. I feel like shit.
"This was a mighty deed! The doom of Alduin encompassed at last, and cleansed is Sovngarde of his evil snare!" Tsun calls out, his strong voice carrying across the crowd with ease.
It takes a bit for the full truth to sink in. To feel the words and their meaning seep into me, worm their way down to settle in my bones with a staggering wave of relief. I'm glad I'm already sitting down. My thoughts are too scattered to make sense of – too flighty to form anything more substantial, something meaningful.
Cottony numbness settles in my head.
Around me, people start cheering. Hakon clasps Felldir on his back with a grin even as Gormlaith joyfully and without restraint howls to the sky and jumps on the back of a nearby warrior, who is too busy laughing to care for the added weight. A stranger presses my other axe back into my hand. It's broken. So is my hand. My mind is too muddled to care. The pain doesn't even register.
Ysgramor leans on his double-bladed axe with both hands, a perfect copy of the statues of Talos spread throughout Skyrim. His shoulders are relaxed, his weapon bloodied, his face content. Savos is nowhere to be seen, and most warriors slowly start to pick themselves up and walk back to the Halls, words of new songs tossed about and several people raising their voices in a familiar chant.
"Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, Naal Ok Zin Los Vahriin!
Wah Dein Vokul Mahfaeraak Ahst Vaal!"
Galmar is once again the one to help me to my feet. I sheathe what's left of my axes. I wouldn't know how to wield them now if I tried, I think.
"Dragonborn. I have a request, if you would hear it. A dead man's last wish if you will."
I'm not in much of a state to fulfil any request, really. I want to curl up in bed. I want a healer and two or three weeks of uninterrupted sleep. Oh, and Marcurio. For him to kiss me, mainly, and this time without a city burning down around us.
I nod at the man.
"Tell Ulfric… Tell Ulfric, when you see him, that he needn't worry. I am proud of the choice he made. I have… Tell him I've always been proud of him."
Even with the spots dancing in my eyes and the inability to hold onto any thoughts unrelated to rest, I manage to grasp onto enough focus to meet his eye. I don't nod. I don't say a word. But I press my fist against my chest, right over my heart. A warrior's salute.
The lines around his eyes somehow become less severe. Gruffly, he hauls me up further when I slump, slinging his arm around my torso to keep me upright as I'm too short to lean on his shoulder.
He helps me stumble over to Tsun, shaking in his awe. I still say nothing, but manage a trembling, lopsided smirk in the giant's direction. Tsun gazes steadily down at me.
"They will sing of this battle in Shor's Hall forever." Shor's Shield-Thane tells me softly. "But your fate lies elsewhere."
"Aye." I smile. "In a warm bed, I should hope." My voice croaks, hoarse like I've been smoking tobacco daily since I was five.
There's going to be permanent damage from this stunt, I can tell.
The giant huffs. Galmar shifts, burning a hole in the side of my head with his glare. I shove at him. "I can stand. Go. Feast. You earned it. Tell Ysgramor to save Ulfric a seat."
Carefully, the Stormcloak second-in-command sets me properly on my feet. Then he gives Tsun a solemn nod, and crosses the whalebone bridge. We watch him go. For what it's worth, I didn't lie. He has earned it. Not everyone was brave enough to stand directly between me and Alduin's line of fire.
Tsun looks back at me. "When you have completed your count of days, I may welcome you again, with glad friendship, and bid you join the blessed feasting."
Gods, and be stuck with Galmar for the rest of eternity? I should hope not. I want to meet up with Gabriella, and Festus, and Veezara in the Void. Nevertheless, I smile at him.
"All hail the Dragonborn!" the people listening cry out, others joining in on the second phrase. "Hail him with great praise!"
The world is fuzzy around the edges. I send the three warriors, Hakon, Gormlaith and Felldir a smile and a thumbs up. They return the gesture confusedly, looking down at their hands. Like a flash of clarity, I remember my very first meeting with Aicantar. Back then, I must have looked exactly as they do now. A reminder of the beginning, all the way at the end of this. My smile turns more genuine.
But… I really want to go home now.
Home.
Home. Home. Home. I don't need praise. I don't need to be hailed. I need to be in the arms of a certain someone and safe in bed.
"When you are ready to rejoin the living, just bid me so, and I will send you back."
I almost throw myself at Tsun in gratitude. "Send me back." I plead. "Please. I am weary." So weary. So tired. It's finally over and I want to do to sleep now.
Tsun gives me a Shout. It bounces around in my head alongside all the other nonsensical information. Then he Shouts at me, and the world dissolves into light and relief.
It's over.
It finally sinks in.
It's over. It's enough to bring me to my knees in sheer relief.
I won.
A/N: Hey, I hope you all liked this chapter! Please tell me what you think of it, I'd love to hear from you all! Holy shit the rollercoaster this chapter took me on. So many emotions.
