Chapter CXXI – The Last
"So… they're just fighting for their land back?"
Aeyrin pondered on their way towards the Old Hroldan Inn as they finally passed the green banner with a symbol of a ram's head at the side of the road, which announced their arrival into the Reach.
"No! They took the land from the Nords for a while but then… Ulfric did some shit and Shouted them away from Markarth or something. I don't know, I never paid attention to that. It's not important. They're just barbarians who think they own the Reach for some daft reason," Bishop explained morosely.
His 'history' recountings were always… interesting, to say the least, but she may have been better off reading a book or something. It sounded like these Forsworn were merely fighting for their land, but, then again, she's never heard much of them. And she may have been biased about Ulfric's claim on any part of Skyrim.
"Point is, this is still Skyrim. It belongs to the Nords," Bishop shrugged noncommittally, but his argument only made her stop in her tracks and throw him a somewhat amused incredulous look.
"Not like that! Fuck… I didn't mean… Stop making fun of me! You know what I meant!" he groaned at the sight of her grin.
"But the Reach does belong to the Forsworn, right? Why else would they fight for it?" Aeyrin pondered again after a while.
"No. I mean… I guess they think that it does. Ugh, I don't know! Doesn't fucking matter now, does it? They're just randomly attacking villagers and travelers now anyways. It's not like they're gonna get anywhere with that," he rolled his eyes with a shake of his head.
He really seemed to dislike the Forsworn. No surprises there…
Aeyrin was still curious to find out a more accurate version of their claim on the Reach. After all, the two of them were likely going to be spending some time here. She might as well learn about the people living there, hostile or not.
To be honest, she found the idea of the oppressed tribes fighting for their rights against the Nord usurpers somewhat… romantic. It was like from a story book. She couldn't help but imagine them to be noble, passionate warriors, instead of 'some barbarians' as Bishop put it.
The two of them finally reached the inn after another half-hour of journey. It was a lone structure by the Karth River with not much else around. As far as the eye could see, there were only cliffs and plains.
They still had a day to spare before the meeting but, hopefully, Delphine and the lore-master would be there early.
…
When they entered the tavern, they noted that there was no one there save for the young Nord innkeeper. Bishop and Aeyrin ordered some food from her and they sat themselves down by one of the tables in the corner of the empty inn.
"Here you go. Will you be staying the night?" the Nord innkeeper asked after a couple of minutes as she placed the plates on the table with a friendly nod.
"Yes. Just whatever you have… available…" Aeyrin trailed off a bit when she realized the stupidity of that statement in the empty tavern.
"Would you like to spend the night at the Tiber Septim's room? It's only thirty more septims! People all across the province travel here to see it," the woman smiled at them excitedly.
'Tiber Septim's room'? That sounded a little like another one of Delphine's strange codes. Like the non-existent 'attic room'. Aeyrin and Bishop shared a brief suspicious look before Aeyrin nodded at her. Thirty septims more was a somewhat steep price, but she was convinced that they needed to rent this particular room. It was just too conspicuous.
"Sure. So… why Tiber Septim's room?" she asked the innkeeper curiously.
Bishop raised his brow at Aeyrin, likely questioning her inclination to pry at the obvious code, but much to his surprise, the woman actually answered.
"That's right. In the Second Era, Tiber Septim himself led the army that conquered Old Hroldan from the barbarians of the Reach. His first known battle and victory was right here. And this inn has the very bed in which the great general slept in on his first night as Old Hroldan's liberator. As good as it was hundreds of years ago."
Oh… so… not a code. And apparently there was centuries old furnishing in the overpriced room to boot.
But… what did that mean about the 'barbarians of the Reach'? That sounded like the Nords really stole the land from the Reachmen.
"So… the… barbarians occupied this area until the Nords came?" Aeyrin pried further information from the woman.
"Yes. But the heroics of Talos liberated the region from the savages. So… will you be taking the room?"
Aeyrin nodded, making the woman beam with somewhat palpable greed in her expression before she turned on her heel and headed into one of the rooms, likely to prepare it for them.
"Why are you getting so fixated on the fucking Forsworn? Who cares who owned which shitty patch of grass first? Just be glad that there's an actual city around here to get supplies, rather than a bunch of tents and some half-naked idiots dancing around the fire," Bishop scoffed at Aeyrin and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.
"It's just… a sad story. And also kind of inspiring… that they're still fighting," she sighed wistfully in response and looking off into the distance at the other side of the common room. She didn't know why the story spoke to her, but she kept imagining those proud tribes, withstanding the assault on their culture and heritage.
"You know… it's a little familiar," Bishop's face suddenly twisted into a smirk. "This huge army comes, tries to erase someone else's culture. But there's still this one group resisting. This one… rebellion… So they start running around, attacking people, being abrasive and shit, all the while screaming that 'this land belongs to them'," he winked at her smugly.
She stared at him for a while as a pouty scowl formed on her face.
"Ugh! You ruined it!" she folded her arms across her chest in disappointment. He did have a point. And she kind of romanticized the Stormcloaks and their cause at first too. But… the Forsworn didn't have an insane psychopath like Ulfric at their forefront, right? She really hoped that he was one of a kind, but… her time in Skyrim was all the evidence that she needed to show her that it wasn't the case.
Bishop only gave her a pleased grin in response. He was clearly very happy with the result as he began sipping his mead smugly.
…
There was no sign of Delphine the whole rest of the afternoon, so, after an uneventful day spent just talking and lazing around the empty common room, Aeyrin and Bishop headed to the famed Tiber Septim's room for an early sleep. Or, well… for some time spent in bed in any case.
The minute the door closed behind them, Bishop threw his pack to the floor and lunged at Aeyrin, pinning her to the wall. She barely got a chance to drop her own pack before he dipped his head to her shoulder and started kissing her neck eagerly, pressing his hips to her skin. She arched her back against him instantly and she let out a quiet pleased murmur at the scratch of his stubble at her collarbone.
Bishop flicked his tongue over her sensitive skin before he bit gently into the side of her neck. One of his hands snuck quickly towards her cleavage and he eagerly squeezed her breast over her tunic while the other hand grabbed her by her hip, pulling her body closely to his. She barely managed to drape her arms over his neck as he quickly overwhelmed her by how fast he was moving. This time her quiet sounds, reverberated a little louder and she let out a moan of pleasure at the treatment.
"By the Divines, can't you two control yourselves for even a second?!" a sudden hiss came as if from out of nowhere, starling them both. They tore themselves off of each other and they began looking around the room in confusion.
It was definitely Delphine's annoyed voice.
Where in Oblivion was she? And was she hiding out somehow in this room for Gods-only-knew how long?!
"Fucking constant interruptions…" Bishop mumbled angrily while he peered at one of the walls where he had heard the voice echo from. It had definitely come from there, but there were not many places to hide by that wall.
"Delphine?" Aeyrin asked uncertainly while her eyes still roamed around the room.
Suddenly, the closet at the side of the room moved and its legs started screeching across the stone floor lightly.
"Fuck… Delphine and her closets," Bishop rolled his eyes as the moved closet revealed a small crevice. A hand peeked out of it promptly, gesturing for them to follow inside the hidden entrance.
The both shared an exasperated look before they followed where Delphine had ushered them.
They squeezed into the crevice, only to find an empty doorframe hidden behind the closet with stairs leading further down. It looked so similar to the hideout at the Sleeping Giant. Were these some designated Blades meeting places? This one, however, aside from the usual table filled with parchments and maps, had a bed, a cooking pot and a small lavatory.
Was she living here?
And, apparently, not alone.
There was a man sleeping in the bed. An old Nord, bald, with a wrinkled face, was huddled in the thick fur blankets, breathing steadily in his slumber.
"Good, you're here early," Delphine smiled at them as she ushered them inside.
"What are you… what is this?" Aeyrin shook her head, still confused about Delphine hiding out like this. Although… after their encounter with the Thalmor at the College, it wasn't that irrational. Probably.
"We've been here for a few days already, taking shifts sleeping and listening for when you would arrive. The innkeeper doesn't know that we're here. One of my contacts informed me of her schedule and we managed to sneak in in the middle of the night when she was sleeping. This is one of our hideouts," Delphine explained proudly.
Aeyrin thought for a while about how creepy it was that they might have been listening in on any random guests in the room, but this place didn't seem to be very frequented. But… what if they didn't pay the extra price for this room? What would she have done then? Didn't it occur to her that they may not have sprung for the overpriced place to rest? They certainly weren't as loaded as she apparently was, judging from how easily she paid for all their equipment and the dress back in Solitude.
"The Thalmor were already in Riften when I got there, but they had no idea where Esbern was," Delphine started to explain. "I followed your instructions and took him from that… place. But… the Thalmor caught on. We got ambushed a short way from the city. We managed to get rid of them, but Esbern got wounded. And after he recovered, we still needed to gather some information on how to proceed. In any case, here we are. He should be up shortly. We'll discuss the next step then," she nodded resolutely.
"Right… well… about the Thalmor. There's something that you should probably know," Aeyrin sighed as she looked briefly at the sleeping man. At the risk of rattling Delphine's paranoia further, they likely needed to tell her about the Dominion's continuous hunt for the Blades.
Although, judging from how things went in the Rift, she already knew that.
…
"How long has he been hiding out there from the Thalmor?" Aeyrin asked after a while of silence.
They told Delphine about their encounter with the Thalmor agent at the College, making her all jittery and nervous. If that man was as bad as her, it was no wonder that he was hiding out in those awful warrens. Thalmor prisons and torture would very likely hold an even more dire fate for him than the filth and grime of the sewers.
"He… he wasn't hiding from the Thalmor," Delphine sighed with a shake of her head.
Bishop and Aeyrin both gave her an expectant look, but she didn't elaborate further. Instead, she began staring blankly into the map of Skyrim that was splayed on the lone table in the middle of the room.
Before they could prod her for more information, the man in the bed stirred at last, opening his eyes tiredly. He riled himself up rather quickly when he noticed the amount of people in the small hideout. He instantly got up from the bed in a rather spritely fashion, for a man his age.
"This is the…?" He gave Aeyrin a long intrigued look and there was a strange hopeful twinkle in his eyes, as if only now he was starting to believe Delphine's words.
"The Dragonborn. Yes. Esbern, meet Aeyrin. Oh… and this is Bishop," Delphine waved her hand rather dismissively, making Bishop narrow his eyes at her in an instant. It pissed him off to no end. He almost died for those fucking dossiers of hers and she was still acting like he was just in the way. Then again, he probably was in her way. Who knew what suicidal plan she'd concocted now? And it was more than clear that he would poke holes in it constantly, trying to keep Aeyrin from going along with this shit.
"I… I still believed that something would go wrong. That you wouldn't arrive here, that… It's been so long since I've had any hope of… a future. I was sure that I would live out my days in the warrens," Esbern shook his head with a hint of exhaustion in his face and he clasped Aeyrin's hands in between his for a brief moment. He was looking at her as if she was his… savior. It worried her immensely. Hopefully they wouldn't expect her to solve all their problems, such as the Thalmor.
"And you, young man, thank you for risking your life to bring Delphine the information about my location. If it weren't for you, I would have indeed remained there for the rest of my life, ignorant of the Dragonborn's existence," he turned toward Bishop a second later with a kind smile. Again with this! Did he leave only because there was a Dragonborn? It didn't change the fact that the Thalmor were after him! But… Delphine said that he wasn't hiding in the warrens from the Thalmor.
Bishop merely nodded in response before he turned towards Delphine a second later with a snide sneer. "You actually admitted that I did something else than 'drink at the Giant'?"
"Don't get smug. You were useful once. That doesn't…" Delphine scoffed derisively before Aeyrin interrupted her in chastisement.
"Delphine!" she shook her head at the woman incredulously. She really hoped that they were past this pettiness. She turned back to Esbern quickly, eager not to leave Delphine and Bishop another second to snipe at each other. "Why were you in the warrens, Esbern? Delphine said that it wasn't because of the Thalmor."
"Because the dragons have returned," the old man gave her a questioning look, as if it was so obvious.
"You needed to lock yourself in the warrens for that? Didn't you say that all the Blades were dragon hunters?" Bishop scoffed mockingly. The phrase had little meaning in a world with no dragons anyway. "Couldn't you just… hide literally anywhere else?"
"For how long? Without the Dragonborn, who would stop them? There was no one to stand in the way of Alduin's army. There was no one to stand against him! The prophecy was… wrong," Esbern shook his head again. His expression was the picture of lingering hopelessness – the months spent in despair, convinced of the world's inevitable doom were very palpable on his face.
Bishop and Aeyrin both stared at him, dumbfounded. He wasn't making much sense. What prophecy? And Alduin? That name sounded so familiar. Didn't they see the name in one of those dragon lore books back at the College?
"Did he hit his head in the fight?" Bishop murmured as he inclined his head towards Delphine briefly, earning only a scoff in response.
Seeing their confusion, Esbern straightened up and closed his eyes before he took a deep breath. He reminded Aeyrin of a priest that was preparing to preach to his flock.
"When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world.
When the Brass Tower walks and time is reshaped.
When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red-Mountain trembles.
When the Dragonborn ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls.
When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding.
The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn."
Unbearable silence enveloped the small room as everyone stared at the man. The strange tension and barely subdued fear of his vague words was hanging in the air unpleasantly. Delphine had an obviously unnerved expression on her face, even though it was clear that this wasn't her first time hearing these words. Bishop and Aeyrin, on the other hand, still only looked at the man silently, trying to make sense of his odd recitation.
"Don't you see? The Simulacrum, the Warp in the West, the False Tribunal and Dagoth-Ur, the fall of the Septims and now the civil war in Skyrim. It all came true! Alduin has returned! There can be no doubt about it now!" Esbern exclaimed. "But the prophecy never specified what happens next. 'The Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn' this could mean anything. Do they save us? Are they slayed? Do they escape the apocalypse to preserve their gift into the next world? It was intriguing to speculate, but there was no Last Dragonborn to speak of. The world's fate was hopeless. Until now." He gave Aeyrin an intense look, but she could hardly see him at all. Her vision was suddenly blurry and she felt strangely dizzy. Although she still wasn't sure if she understood anything that he had said at all.
What in the Void...?
"I… I think I need to… Did you say 'World-Eater'?! I… I need to sit down…" she stammered as her breathing started to quicken and her heart pounded. She kept mulling his words over in her head and she wasn't sure if the panic she felt was because of how hard she was trying to make sense of them, or because deep down, she actually understood what he had said all too well. There was a prophecy? A thousands of years old prophecy? About her? And there was something called the 'World-Eater' that she was supposed to stop? Or die at its hand, supposedly…
The memories of what she had read about Alduin returned to her in an unpleasant torrent – the firstborn of Akatosh, 'eating the age of its victims', the leader of the dragon society. There was no way that a dragon like that would be easy to kill. They've already barely managed to survive the colorful dragons! And that strange venomous one wasn't really an easy kill either. And how many dragons would be riled around their leader?! Didn't Esbern mention something about an 'army'?!
She kind of hoped that… she would just have to travel the wilderness, slaying them one dragon at a time, but this…
She barely registered that she had fallen backwards, but, fortunately, there was a chair ready behind her with Delphine clutching the back of it. She sat down heavily and her eyes darted to Bishop briefly, as if the sight of him would bring her comfort.
It didn't.
He was standing there, stiff as a board, staring at the old man with an unreadable expression. The tension was uncomfortably palpable in his motionless stance.
"Alright, ease up with the forlorn prophecies, old man," Delphine finally broke the suffocating silence. "Aeyrin, it's fine. We have a way forward. We know what to do now, where to strike. All we need to do is find out how to defeat Alduin. It has been done before!"
Aeyrin felt Delphine's hand clasp her shoulder encouragingly, but her words still brought no comfort.
"The… the 'Last Dragonborn?" she stammered again as she threw Esbern a rather desperate look. She really was alone in this? There was no help to be found, no one to help her carry the burdens that she had to suffer. She almost died absorbing each soul! How could she absorb the soul of the… 'World-Eater'?!
Wasn't being the Dragonborn hereditary? Her being the 'last' sounded like… well… like she wouldn't have much time left in her life to… not be the last.
"That is what the prophecy says. But if you defeat Alduin, the dragons may be gone for good! There would be no more need for the Dragonborn!" Esbern gave her a reassuring smile.
Yeah… that was her concern. It may have been selfish, it may have been a noble thought to sacrifice herself to kill this dragon, but it didn't feel like some noble purpose. All she could think of was her inevitable death and the immobilizing fear that gripped her at the notion. Maybe it shouldn't have felt any different from the countless times when she had thrown herself at the dragons before, but… it did feel different.
This time, the thought of risking herself for the safety of others made her sick to her stomach.
"How the fuck do you know it's her?! There could be others! Someone else might be the… 'last'…" Bishop's angry outburst ended suddenly and he trailed off. He suddenly realized that it didn't sound any better. If there was someone else who would be the 'Last Dragonborn', it wouldn't likely mean a very long life for her.
Delphine decided to ignore his question. She likely suspected that they didn't want to hear the answer to that anyway. If someone else was the last, they could do nothing but watch Aeyrin fail and wait for… the real 'Last Dragonborn'. "The dragon that we saw resurrecting the other one at Kynesgrove, that was Alduin. He has the power to breathe life into his fallen brethren. And from what I've seen… we gathered that even if you somehow managed to simply… slay him, by following the resurrection pattern and finding him, his soul would likely kill you. And while that sacrifice would have been very noble," she got interrupted briefly by Bishop's outraged scoff- "While it would have been a noble attempt, it is not worth the risk because we don't know if… well… we don't know if it would kill you or… take over or something. Or if it would actually die from the absorption attempt."
Aeyrin only nodded absentmindedly. Just like she thought… hopeless.
"Listen, we have a plan. We know what to do, where to find more answers," Delphine squeezed her shoulder again.
"Great! Delphine has a plan! That always ends well!" Bishop practically snarled at her while his face twisted in anger. Although he still stood there in the same tense unmoving stance.
"Shut up! If it weren't for my last plan, we'd know none of this now!" Delphine turned to him angrily with a vicious sneer.
"Fuck! If only! You can't just let us keep killing those things right? No! There has to be a fucking prophecy and an army of dragons and the fucking world ending! Do you know how insane this sounds?! And you expect her to get rid of this 'World-Eater' or whatever, which, by the way, will definitely kill her… at best?!" Bishop yelled at her. Even the innkeeper must have heard that.
This was not helping Aeyrin's panic attack. Not in the slightest.
"Young man, Bishop, I understand that this is overwhelming." Esbern's calming words were interrupted briefly by one of Bishop's derisive scoffs before he continued. "It is important to think of this one step at a time. All we need to do now, is to find out how the Dragonborn of the Merethic Era defeated Alduin in the first place. Then it will only be a matter of repeating the process."
"Sure… piece of fucking cake!" Bishop growled at him.
"It may be, actually," Delphine interjected. "Who's to say that it took them countless warriors and resources? There may have been an… artifact or a ritual or something! It may be entirely trivial now with the advancements of the Fourth Era. And the main problem for the ancient dragon slayers was likely finding the way to defeat him, not the act itself," Delphine tried to form another encouraging smile, but it came out somewhat weak and strained.
Bishop scoffed at her yet again with a shake of his head. Right. Killing the leader of the dragon army would definitely be 'trivial'. Fuck, how he wished that all this shit had nothing to do with Aeyrin. A thought crossed his mind on how he wished she was the kind of person who would just say 'fuck this' and left them to their own devices, but the thought left him in an instant. He wasn't sure if he'd loved her this much if she was a different person. This selfless attitude was what brought them together in the first place, it was what he admired, despite the fact that it was just insanely stupid at times.
Aeyrin's blank stare was finally gone for a brief second. She still looked rather shocked and not quite there, but she turned her head to look at Delphine with a hint of pondering in her expression. "There might be… a… ritual… or a spell… or… something…" she trailed off again and she turned her head back to stare into nothing.
"What? Do you know something?" Delphine peered at Aeyrin curiously and she clasped her shoulder again as if to rile her up from her deep thoughts. It didn't really work.
Bishop sighed. This would only give her some fodder for her usual shit: 'See?! It's not gonna be dangerous at all! I have a plan!' a very unflattering imitated version of Delphine's voice rang in his head.
But Aeyrin didn't seem capable of speech anymore. The Blades would find out sooner or later anyway and it wasn't as if he could ever deter Aeyrin from helping them, no matter how terrified she was.
"There was a… fuck… it's nothing. The Jarl of Morthal had some fucking vision about a… something. Some vague shit about blue light clipping a black fiery wing or… whatever," he explained reluctantly, making sure to put as little importance to the words as possible. He did not want to give Delphine the satisfaction.
"See?! That sounds like exactly what we are looking for! We are on the right path! I assure you, our plan will work!" Delphine exclaimed excitedly.
Ugghh! Every single word out of her mouth was grating on Bishop's nerves endlessly.
"This is… uplifting, but hardly determinative," Esbern nodded. "Let us all just stop the bickering and only focus on the next part. There is an ancient temple used by the Blades as their headquarters. Together, Delphine and I have been able to determine its location, but it is said to only open for the Dragonborn, to keep their enemies out. There's a… structure there – Alduin's wall. It is rumored to depict the heroics of the Dragonborn in the Merethic Era. I'm very hopeful that it would tell us how they defeated Alduin," Esbern was clearly trying to diffuse the situation again. It was no wonder. Bishop and Delphine were still glaring at each other while Aeyrin sat at the chair without moving a muscle, staring into nothing.
"It is near Karthwasten. Do you know the place?" Esbern continued in a soothing voice, earning a brief nod from Bishop. "Good. Delphine and I will scout the area before dawn to make sure that the innkeeper doesn't see us getting out of here. You two should get some rest and join us in the morning near the mining village."
Aeyrin got up from the chair almost mindlessly at Esbern's words and she turned on her heel to head towards the stone steps leading back to the room.
"And for the love of Talos, control yourselves tonight. We have no interest in hearing whatever you get up to together," Delphine scoffed, rolling her eyes with a slightly annoyed smirk.
Every. Fucking. Word.
Bishop couldn't help himself.
He slammed his fist into the table next to Delphine and glared at her angrily. "I am so fucking sick of you! You better…" he got interrupted only a second later by Delphine's exasperated sigh and an exclamation.
"Aeyrin, please control your dog!"
He had half a mind to punch her, but his attention got diverted by Aeyrin, who completely ignored everything as she continued walking up the stairs, as if she was in a trance.
Fuck… she really didn't look well.
He'd forgotten Delphine completely as he hurried after her into the room.
He did slam the closet back to the wall with a lot more force than necessary though.
…
Aeyrin sat on the bed heavily. The terrifyingly blank stare was still etched on her face without failing.
It was strange… it wasn't as if much had changed. She still needed to fight the dragons. She needed to defeat whatever was resurrecting them. This hadn't changed. She always knew that.
But this was so… final.
It was like a sentence on her life.
Either she defeats the most powerful dragon there is, the spawn of the most powerful Aedra known to men. Although… did Aedra reproduce like that? It was likely only a metaphorical 'firstborn'. Oh, what did that matter?! The worst part was still painfully clear.
Either she defeats Alduin, or she dies.
There was no other outcome. It was a prophecy. One that has come true over and over again during the course of centuries. And if it wasn't about her… then it only meant she would die for certain, replaced by the actual 'Last Dragonborn'. She tried to chastise herself for thinking only about her own life and the hopelessness of her own situation, but it was short-lived. She couldn't stop thinking about dying.
She barely heard the supposedly-hundreds-of-years-old bed creak when Bishop sat down on it beside her. He gently draped his arm over her waist and nudged her to rest on his shoulder in a comforting motion. She allowed that almost automatically, but even his closeness didn't make her feel better.
"It's gonna be alright, love," he rested his head on hers, squeezing her towards him closely. "We're just gonna do this one step at a time."
She couldn't help but scoff at that. It was so obvious that he couldn't think of anything comforting himself and he had to resort to using Esbern's words.
He straightened his head again with a sigh, when he saw that his soothing words were useless.
It was understandable. He himself was at loss. His head was only filled with worst case scenarios.
But he needed her to be herself. He knew that she was getting overwhelmed, that she was getting lost. He knew that way too often, lately, something came over her, consuming her. Her fear, her anger. He knew that the longer all this lasted, the harder it would be for her to get through it.
She needed to feel whatever it was she always talked about before. Purpose.
He leaned into her neck when she straightened her head from his shoulder too. But she didn't let herself lean on him again. She was just staring absently at the closet which was hiding the two Blades.
His breath tickled her ear in a few seconds and he suddenly whispered to her gently, pleadingly.
"Run away with me."
Aeyrin snapped away from him and her eyes widened as she looked at him in shock. Something flickered in them. It looked like hope, eagerness, but it was gone instantly.
"W-what?" she stammered, creasing her brows at him.
"Let's just go. Let's leave. We can go back to Cyrodiil. We can… we can go anywhere." It was painful to say. He wanted to mean it. He did mean it. He wanted to take her away from this. He wanted to take her away from everything. From Skyrim. But he didn't say it so that she'd agree, no matter how much he wished that she would.
"B-Bish… I… I can't. I…" she choked up for a while and her eyes glittered with barely contained tears at the mere thought of it. "I want to…" she whispered sadly. "You have no idea how much I want to."
She buried herself in his chest, no longer able to contain the tears. At least it was better than the vacant stare. He enveloped his arms around her and he kissed the top of her head affectionately.
"I think I have some idea, sweetness," he chuckled almost desperately as he pulled her even closer to his embrace.
"I… can't. This is… what I have to do… I wouldn't be able to… live with myself…" she whispered again in between sobs.
He let her cry into his tunic for a long while, only stroking her hair and holding her close to him. It was oddly calming. He didn't know why it helped him, why it soothed his anger, his worries, but it did. At least a little. When her sobs eased, he gently took her by the shoulders and retracted her from his embrace, forcing her to look at him. He gave her a smile as gentle and encouraging as he could.
"I don't care about a fucking dragon army. I couldn't give a shit about prophecies. Whatever comes, I won't let anything happen to you."
She draped her arms around his neck instantly and she hid her face into his shoulder. He didn't hesitate to return the gesture as his hands rested on her back, occasionally playing with over the ends of her blonde locks.
She believed him.
She knew that he had no power over this. Neither of them did.
Maybe no man on mer did.
But she still believed him.
She needed to.