Chapter Nine

Moments later, the people of Rorikstead trickled out of their homes and came towards the field, eager to see the dragon's corpse. Their whispers buzzed around me and I could faintly make out their words over the sound of the blood that was still rushing to my ears. "A dragon in Rorikstead? Who would think it?" or "I would have never believed it if I hadn't seen it." The relief in their voice was clear; no one was gravely injured and the village was largely unaffected. The only thing that remained of the dragon's attack was the sheet of ice and its corpse, all which would come to be tales in due time.

Vilkas nudged me to turn around, drawing my attention to two men. Both were close enough in stature and were bald, yet their features set the apart. One of the men had dark eyes and a gaze that told me he had been hardened with years of fighting, perhaps loss. He kept his lips in a tight line, as if unwilling to smile. His companion, on the other hand, though his face was more lined, had pleasant grin. He had brown eyes that twinkled with jovialness underneath a set of thick grey eyebrows. The pair was surprisingly well dressed for such a small settlement, the one with the sterner features wearing a lilac overcoat and his friend opting to wear a burgundy one.

"You," the sterner man said, his thick Nord accent peering through. "Are you the one who defeated this creature?"

"My shield-brother assisted me," I said, then turned to the guards here. "And you as well. Your service to the hold has been invaluable."

"The Harbinger sells herself short," Vilkas said. "She is the one who climbed on the beast's back and slayed it."

"She didn't just slay it!" one of the guards exclaimed. "She absorbed its soul! I have a cousin in Whiterun who saw such a thing about a year ago!"

My stomach knotted here. I had hoped no one had noticed that part.

"And her thu'um!" another guard added. "Enough to shake the ground! Sent that beast right back to wherever it came from."

The guards, I noticed, had taken off their helmets. Some of them were young lads and lasses, but they stared at me with the utmost reverence. It wouldn't be the first time I had been greeted by such starry-eyed folk. There was even another lad who didn't wear the guard's uniform that I noticed who shared the same look. That wasn't limited to the younger ones; even the more hardened of Balgruuf's guards had their faces light up in what looked like awe. They would doubtlessly tell whoever they knew that they had witnessed the dragonborn fighting. I had to turn away from them.

"Ah. The legendary dragonborn herself," the other man noted. He wasn't from Skyrim, I noticed. A Breton? I wondered.

"Dragonborn?" the sterner man asked. "What sort of nonsense is this?"

"Not nonsense, old friend," the other man said. "Or if it is, just as much nonsense as that dragon's corpse."

The other man approached the dragon's skeleton now. He ran his hand on the bones, almost as though he were trying to convince himself that there was still a possibility this was a nightmare. I grimaced watching him. He must have known what the others would only come to grips with once tonight had passed and the respite from danger subsided. The other man laid a hand on his shoulder and whispered something to him, causing him to nod.

He returned to us once more and asked, "You said you're the Harbinger of the Companions?"

"I am," I said.

"The renown Anyaie Sylanitte herself," the Breton said. "With her shield-sibling, one of the wolf-twins. Which one are you?"

"Vilkas Whitemane," he answered.

"Mighty Talos!" one of the guards cried out. "I once heard that he slew an entire crypt of draugr with a dagger!"

"Alright, enough of all of you," the Nord said. "If you keep this up, you'll run them out of the village."

"Don't mind their enthusiasm, or Rorik's gruffness," the Breton said, letting out a chuckle as he affectionately clapped his friend on the back. "I think I speak for both of us when I say thank you for your service, Companions."

"We require no such thanks. Who are you, my good man?" I asked.

"Jouane Manette," he answered. "Welcome to Rorikstead. I do wish we would have you as our guests under better circumstances, but it was fortuitous that you did come on time. For that, my companion and I would like to reward you."

"If I may, Jouane," a man interjected.

This man had thinning brown hair and was beginning to bald at the crown of his head. Unlike the other two men we encountered, his clothes were simple.

"Yes, Mralki?" Jouane asked.

"I was going to suggest that they stay in Rorikstead for the evening at my inn with no cost," Mralki answered.

"An excellent idea," Jouane said. "Wouldn't you agree, Rorik?"

"Indeed," Rorik said.

"In fact, what I do believe what my friend meant was that we will both compensate you out of our own pockets," Jouane continued, giving Rorik a look that suggested he should agree with him.

"Of course," Rorik said, releasing a sigh.

"But before that, why don't we settle you both in the inn for the night and ensure that you are healed?"

"That would be gracious," I said.

The Frostfruit Inn reminded me much of the Sleeping Giant in Riverwood. Amongst the low lighting and the familiar smell of ale, I half-expected to see Orgnar or Hod, but found I only recognized Mralki. Surprisingly, it was even smaller than the Sleeping Giant and with fewer rooms. It made sense at least; nothing exciting ever happened in Rorikstead save the occasional traveller. The dragon must have been the most newsworthy event to happen in at least a decade.

Once Mralki led us to our chambers, we met Jouane in my room to check our injuries. Vilkas saw that I was about to object and proceeded to clearing his throat. You have done enough for one day, his look told me. He was right. It would have been hasty for me to offer my help anyhow. The rush that I received earlier from absorbing the dragon's soul was waning. We could try to force ourselves to get back to Whiterun by nightfall, but it would only exhaust us more than anything. It was wiser to stay the evening in Rorikstead and ensure we were well enough to travel the next day.

"Let's begin with you, Harbinger," Jouane anounced.

With a few words, a golden light appeared in his hands. He let the light hover in his hands before placing a hand on my head. He wasn't targeting a specific area since I had suffered no significant injury. This spell was something of a quick heal. It was enough to go through the entire body and take care of anything minor, such as bruises and cuts, but not enough to do anything more than that.

"Sylanitte," he said. "Breton?"

"Manette, also Breton?" I asked.

He let out a chuckle here. "Correct. Good meeting another one of my kind out here. What originally brought you to Skyrim, friend? The dragons?"

"Unforeseeable circumstances, including the dragons. I had no intention to stay, but I've made a life and a home here. How about you?"

"I followed Rorik after the Great War," he answered. "I know. Skyrim is nowhere as pretty as High Rock, but the old grump is dear to me and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. How about you, Companion? A native to Skyrim I'd imagine?"

"Aye," Vilkas answered.

"Of course. There are stories about you and your twin, Farkas I believe," Jouane said, now walking over to Vilkas. "You've both acquired quite the reputations, and so young too."

Jouane put a hand on top of Vilkas' head and a glowing golden light followed. Though it was a good spell, it was no easy one to cast. I remember my father sometimes looking drained after casting it on two or three people and I considered him skilled. Jouane, for his part, happily spoke on as he healed Vilkas, while Vilkas shot me a look that told me if the Breton didn't shut up, he would say something he regretted. I smirked here and did nothing.

"Hmmm. You've been healed recently?" he asked Vilkas.

"Last night," Vilkas said. "I suffered injury at the hands of a Dwarven Centurion about a week ago."

"The abdomen and the head mainly. Quite the head injury too, it feels like," Jouane noted. "Must have taken a very skilled healer to perform such good work on you."

"She is," Vilkas said.

Jouane flashed me a knowing smile. It was genuine understanding and even a hint of good-natured amusement. Perhaps he knew what it was to heal someone he cared about dearly. For my part, I might have felt heat rise to my cheeks.

"Thankfully, there hasn't been that much to heal for either of you," Jouane said, now letting his hand drop away from Vilkas' head.

"Thank you for your kindness, Jouane," I said. "We're much obliged."

"Oh my dear lass. There's no need to thank me! You've done us a greater service than I could ever repay and…ah. Well. Well. Well. Well. Look who finally came."

Sure enough, there was Rorik with a surly look on his face. Jouane grinned at him, completely unfazed by his crankiness. I wondered what about this cranky Nord had made Jouane so willing to follow him away from High Rock.

"I did. I wanted to reward the Companions. Here," he said, handing Vilkas and I heavy bags. "This is from my personal coffers. We may not be as wealthy as jarls, but what we do have, we provide wholeheartedly."

"We cannot accept this," I said. "Please. We do not require compensation."

"Truly," Vilkas added. "Your people have been generous in allowing us to stay at your inn with no cost and healing us."

"I insist," Rorik said.

I was about to protest again when he walked off moments later. Vilkas shrugged at me and jangled the bag full of coins. It would figure that he would make a show before taking it himself.

"I haven't heard him be that prolific in years!" Jouane said. "I'd say this is the closest thing either of you will be getting to a compliment from him."

"It was not necessary…" I started.

"Please, Harbinger," Jouane cut in. "You are well-intentioned, but this is something that means a lot to Rorik. Otherwise, he would not have done it at all."

"Suits me just fine," Vilkas said, now tossing the bag in his hands. "I've been meaning to expand my personal library. Your man's coin here will contribute to that."

"Vilkas," I hissed under my breath.

He thought for a moment before rectifying his statement.

"What I meant is that this will greatly expand the Companions' library in Jorrvaskr," he said, so genuinely that I thought it was sincere. "Even though Farkas has probably not touched a book in years, Aela would sooner use them for target practice, and the others are too busy squabbling amongst themselves to care."

"Nine Divines, you're insufferable," I mumbled.

Jouane let out a hearty laugh and said, "It pleases me greatly that the Companions will be able to expand their knowledge, personal or otherwise."

"Could we trouble you for one last thing?" I asked before Vilkas could make a further ass of himself.

"You know I'll hardly consider it a trouble."

"Is there a stream nearby?"

"Want to bathe before resting? Eastwards, past the fields, there's a small pond. Relatively secluded as well."

"Thank you," I said.

"My pleasure," he answered. "I'll be eagerly awaiting your return here. I, for one, look forward to a hearty drink to celebrate your victory."

The healer left us with those parting words and we headed off to the pond. To our luck, it wasn't too far of a walk from Rorikstead itself and it was easy to find. There didn't appear to be many wolves or other beasts around the area, which was a welcome change. There had been too many times early on in my adventuring where I had been chased off from bathing thanks to a mangy wolf or enraged bear.

"Do you want to go first?" Vilkas asked.

"If that would be fine with you," I said.

"Good with me. Let me help you with your armour," he said. "It'll be quicker than you needing to struggle with it."

I wanted food, drink, and sleep, so I agreed. He went behind me and proceeded to undo the buckles on the breastplate. It did go much quicker with someone else helping you.

"Thank you," I said. "I'll take off the rest. Watch over my things as I bathe?"

"Aye," he said.

The rest of the armour was no problem to remove, and as soon as my gambeson was off, I went into the pond. After being in my armour for the entire day, the cool water was a welcome sensation. I dunked my head into the water and ran my fingers through my damp hair. It was enough to quell my weariness and reinvigorate me. It didn't stop my mind from thinking about the dragon we had encountered and what had brought us to Rorikstead.

There would be joy and merriment when we returned to the tavern. Vilkas and I would inevitably be lauded as heroes. I would be hailed as the legendary dragonborn and Vilkas as a famed Companion. Word would spread all the way to Whiterun and we would be praised upon our return to Jorrvaskr too. So many craved the fame and glory we had achieved, but all I felt was tightness in my chest. Tomorrow, they would feel it too when they realize that the dragon attack meant that they hadn't vanished after all, nor was it just a "Stormcloak hoax" or "Imperial scheme."

Not wanting to hold up Vilkas, I decided to get out of the water and dry myself off. I only put my gambeson back on, leaving my hair loose and combing it out with my fingers as best as I could.

The soft grass tickled my feet as I walked towards our armour and sat down next to it. I sighed here and knotted my fingers through the blades of grass. It was a beautiful evening, so still and so peaceful. The sky was a mixture of mellow orange and soothing pinks. It should have been reassuring after the chaos we experienced. I wanted it to be. It couldn't, not when it was that false sense of security that had made me fail as my duty as dragonborn.

"I thought dragons had vanished again," I heard Vilkas say while he was bathing.

"So did I," I answered.

When a month passed without a single attack, I thought nothing of it. Two passed, then three, with no reports from any guards. It was strange at first, but I didn't mind it. No dragons meant no more danger than usual. A year trickled by like that and I did nothing to question it. It was easier absorbing myself in other tasks, pretending that the dragons hadn't been the reason I was in Skyrim in the first place. Now I chided myself. I should have known better. When things are too peaceful or too still, it can never bode well.

"I had a dream last night. The dragon I saw at Helgen," I found myself saying. "Perhaps this was the Divine's way of alerting me that my role as dragonborn was far from over."

No response here. It was probably better that he didn't reply anyways. Vilkas could be sharp when he wanted to be and in moments of wallowing, it did no one any good. It wasn't as if the self-pity accomplished anything either. It wasn't suitable behaviour from a Harbinger or dragonborn. My duty was to the people of Skyrim and all of Tamriel. The thought was like a dagger to the stomach. It was my duty.

"I got too comfortable. I should have known better," I admitted.

Vilkas now sat down next to me, only wearing his padded pants. It was one of those strange yet small intimacies we had developed during Markarth. A part of me would miss that closeness when we returned to Whiterun, though I would never tell him that.

"We all became complacent," he said.

"Perhaps, but it is not the job of these innocent villagers to worry about why the dragons have returned. That is my task and I have failed at it," I said.

"Not a failure, necessarily," Vilkas corrected. "More of a second chance."

"So the Divines are giving me a nudge in the right direction?" I asked.

"More like a shove, but aye," Vilkas said, and I found myself snorting here. Still, that raised a problem.

"Then I would need to be away from Jorrvaskr for a while," I told him. "However, I do not like abandoning my post as Harbinger."

"It will be waiting for you once you return," he assured. "You've brought great honour and glory to the Companions since your arrival and for that, you have our loyalty."

"We brought glory to the Companions," I said. "A Harbinger is nothing without the Companions that surround them."

"You remain too modest," Vilkas said.

"No Vilkas," I said. "I just remember where I came from and I will never forget it so long as I remain in this world."

Vilkas knew the details and outlines of my life with a couple of anecdotes sprinkled here and there. He knew about how I came to Skyrim and bits and pieces about my life in High Rock. Though a good deal of his childhood tales came from Farkas, he occasionally shared some bright moments with me when he was drunk. Coincidentally, that was also the time he was most nostalgic. It didn't take him being drunk to find about the losses he had endured in his life. We bonded through the Companions and our bond had exceeded that. The small intimacies, the tiny ways he showed me his friendship…those were all things I held close to my heart. As I watched him fiddle with a strand of grass, I wondered if he felt the same way.

"You are a better woman that I would ever be," he said.

"It doesn't help that you aren't a woman in this case," I pointed out, and I heard him chuckle.

"You are a better person is what I meant to say," he said, now pulling at another blade of grass. "And…I am sorry for worrying you this morning. You were under duress and I should have recognized it."

"Is 'duress' your nice way of saying I was being an asshole?" I asked, sweetly.

"I'm apologizing. Don't put words into my mouth," he said but I could see a crooked smile on his face.

"Apology accepted. I apologize for my disposition this morning," I said. "I believe you when you say you went for Farkas and I think that is a kind act."

"As dense as he may be, he is my twin. I guess there isn't much I wouldn't do for him."

With sunset fading away and nightfall coming near, the evening was starting to become chilly. A gust of wind rustled the grass. Vilkas grew quiet here and I could see his eyes fixed on the pond. There was something he was struggling with and I suspected it had something to do with Farkas' errand at the Temple of Dibella.

"Farkas loves me, does he not?" I asked.

"Yes. He loves you," he answered. "Don't tell this is news to you. I thought it was obvious."

"I…suspected he had affection for me, but not to that extent," I confessed.

"He is a good man, Anyaie," Vilkas said. "Better than I will ever be. If you choose to be with him, be kind. I know he is not always the brightest, but the man has a heart bigger than a sabre cat's."

I was about to tell him that Farkas could tell me himself if he truly felt that way, yet the words vanished on my lips as soon as I saw the look on his face. I knew then that Farkas, whether or not he had told Vilkas to make a tribute at the temple, would have never put his twin up to telling me his feelings. This had been Vilkas doing a favour for his brother. He had taken a risk and I knew it. The thought made my stomach churn. What could I tell him in that moment? That though I certainly had affection for Farkas, I didn't know if I could act upon that?

"I need to think about it before I make a decision," I said. "Though we are all equals in the Companion, I cannot afford to only think with my heart. Farkas is still my shield-brother and should the relationship sour, it would be problematic for everyone involved."

"A wise woman, as you always are," he said.

"I am not wise, just cautious," I said. "But truly Vilkas, I admire your dedication to your brother and he holds a special place in my heart as well. In the meantime, you have my word that I will not speak a word of this to him."

"Thank you," he said.

"Do not thank me yet. Regardless of what I may or may not feel for him, the solution may simply be to not engage in a relationship with him at all. My priority as Harbinger is harmony and peace amongst all of us. I hope that if that time comes, you will both understand."

"I do," Vilkas said. "And I know Farkas will too, no matter what your decision. I trust your judgment, as does he."

"Perhaps that is not wise," I said. "I did think that the dragons vanished when they didn't."

"Ah. Don't hold that against yourself," Vilkas said. "If I can speak frankly…"

I gave him a disbelieving look and he corrected himself by saying, "More than usual. You're…not only dragonborn, but perhaps the noblest woman I know. You will find a way to rectify this. I would be honoured to follow you and be at your aid if you would need it."

"That would honour me greatly," I told him. "I'd drink to that."

"And surviving another day?" he asked.

"And surviving another day," I echoed.

He shared a rare smile with me here. For all of the grimaces and frowns he gave, the few times he did smile changed his face entirely. This wasn't his mocking smirk or mischievous grin. This was something more genuine. It brought out the brightness of his eyes and softened his features. It made me wish we were still in Markarth together.

"Should we go back?" I whispered, not trusting myself to ask anything more.

"We should," he agreed.

We armed ourselves once more and returned to the Frostfruit Inn. The people of Rorikstead treated us like heroes. The ale flowed easily and the food was abundant for such a small village. Rorik made an appearance once more, with Jouane by his side chattering away to all that would listen. Vilkas and I were asked to recount our exploits as Companions, and so we told our best tales, all the while the bard sang "The Dragonborn Comes" in my honour. Of all the uncomfortable parts that came with being dragonborn, the honor and rewards were often the easiest ones to manage. That sort of praise gushed forward when people's tongues were loose with drink and their minds put at ease after a brush with death.

Those red eyes from my dream came back to me as I downed another round of ale. Tonight's mirth would ebb when the grim reality of our situation would dawn upon us once more. It was only a matter of time. It always was.

Author's note: just wanted to take a moment to thank you lovely folks for reading!