Lydia stood in the meadow, eyes fixed on the tunnel leading into the now ruined Dark Brotherhood sanctuary. After the battle they had taken their wounded and dead out into the meadow. After ensuring that they would lose no one else to wounds dealt by the assassins, Kratos had ordered some of the men to gather fuel. They had placed enough wood to guarantee a hot burn and with some strange concoctions and accelerant, that the Dark Brotherhood had in their ample alchemy supplies, they set the place ablaze.
For hours they had watched smoke pour from the cavern's mouth, its depths lit with bursts of flame and flights of cinders. Truly it had looked like a portal into the depths of Dagon's Deadlands. Once it finally subsided, Kratos had ordered them to stay back and once more entered the tunnels.
Lydia sighed and looked over her shoulder at the dead laid out on the long grass. Next to their own dead were the assassins who had tried to flee and been cut down by the encircling troops. Too many of their own lay unmoving in the glade. Though she had to be fair, in truth it was only a few men and given the situation it should have been far worse. They had fought a deadly enemy on unknown ground and cut through them. Moreover those who hadn't been wounded were even still hale and energetic and had set up a full camp with earthworks.
She had known many soldiers in her time, but few with such endurance and here was nearly a whole company of them. In fact all of Kratos' soldiers stood out in such a way and she would be a fool to not see that her own skill, strength and endurance was leaps and bounds beyond what she had ever had before. Lydia frowned, it was beyond what she had seen from anyone before. It was all too easy to lose a normal frame of reference when you keep company with an actual god.
A deep grating rumble snapped Lydia out of her thoughts and she whipped her gaze back to the tunnel. The meadow itself trembled and all the men who could stood and looked towards the yawning maw of the tunnel. Great gouts of dust were driven out of the mouth of the passage as the noise continued. Lydia took an unconscious step forwards when she saw a portion of the once level meadow collapse inward, driving forth another gout of dust.
Lydia's clenched fists relaxed when Kratos hurtled out of the opaque cloud of ash and rock dust and strode towards her idly trying to brush off the worst of the debris that coated him like a second skin.
Kratos swiped again at his shoulder, brushing off flakes of stone, and eyed his dirty hands for a moment. With a snort he turned and watched the glade continue to contort as the earth shifted with the collapse of much of the caverns underneath it.
Lydia stepped up beside him and watched the changing topography, "Well. I don't think that anyone will be using that lair ever again."
Kratos nodded, "That was my intent." Soon enough, the once serene meadow ceased its shaking and settled, now littered with depressions with the soil and sod rent in places from the extremes of the shift. He turned to Lydia, "The camp is seen to?"
She nodded an affirmative, "Everything is set up and the watch schedule established. I told the men that we will stay the night here before moving on."
Kratos nodded, "Good. Place the scouts in a wide net. If anyone approaches the area I want them captured or killed. We do not know if any assassins were out on assignment."
Lydia nodded along thoughtfully, "This meadow is remote enough that it seems highly unlikely that any traveler would stumble across it by chance. It's not as if it is on the way anywhere." She hooked a thumb through her sword belt, "I will set up a small squad to be available to pursue any interlopers and assist the scouts as needed."
Kratos let out an affirmative grunt, "Good. Now. Is there water nearby? I need to bathe."
Lydia grinned and cocked an eyebrow at his thick coating of dust, "Understandable." She turned and pointed south, "There is a stream not far in that direction. The soldiers have been going there in shifts for the same reason." Her eyes narrowed and she paused, "There was something about that place… I certainly felt like I needed to bathe after being in there." She shook her head, "It's good that it is well and truly gone."
Kratos shrugged, "The assassins revered some being. It was that essence you felt. Not one of these 'daedra.' Something… more indistinct." He shook his head and turned to go, but caught himself and looked back at Lydia, "Your wound. How is it?"
Lydia reached up and touched her bandaged shoulder and rolled it slightly and tilted her head back and forth a moment as she considered, "Stiff but functional. I can fight." She broke into a wide grin with a slightly feral cast, "I told you, he only stabbed me a little bit." At that Kratos let out a single bark of a laugh and turned back to the south, setting off towards the river.
The next morning dawned bright and still, the peace of morning dew and birdsong belying the violence that had taken place there the day before and the darkness that had lurked just beneath the surface for years. Kratos arose early as was his custom. When he exited his tent, Lydia was there in the pre-dawn gloom waiting for him. Without words they walked off into the still woods a ways, exchanging silent nods with the sentries as they passed deeper into the trees.
In the silence of the woods they knelt and meditated for a time. Lydia fell into a meditative trance quickly, it had become easier and easier with practice and with the lessons that Kratos had given her. She extended her mind and senses into the trees around them, comforted by the interminable bastion of strength she could feel beside her. As always the time flitted by with surprising rapidity and nearly simultaneously they stood to return to camp. Despite the fact that it was now the norm, Lydia was still surprised that she rose from these meditations refreshed and energized with no hint of stiffness from being motionless for so long.
They trekked back to the camp in companionable silence. Kratos noted with satisfaction that he heard the call of a pine thrush, the signal of someone approaching while they were still a good distance off.
When they returned to the main camp the sun still had not risen, but the men were all awake and breakfast was being served. The entire picture was one of quiet precision, not at all spoiled by the low conversations and laughs as the soldiers broke their fast together.
Kratos approached a large group of the company, they all quickly set their plates aside and stood, saluting quickly. Kratos gestured quickly, "As you were. Eat." Immediately the men sat back down, retrieved their food and continued to eat. "I need volunteers for a burial detail." Immediately each raised a hand, but he continued, "None who are wounded may volunteer." Quite a few hands slowly drifted down. Kratos pointed to one of the men, "You will lead the detail. Gather 10 of your fellows and meet me at the edge of the meadow in 15 minutes."
The man saluted, "Yes, thane." and sat again, quickly finishing off the remainder of his morning meal. Soon enough the burial detail had managed to dig the five graves required. Kratos looked over the plots nodding that the requisite depth had been reached.
He gestured to the man in charge of the detail, "Go. Get your fallen brothers." With solemn nods they went, returning shortly with the fallen, wrapped in their cloaks. They placed the bodies carefully next to the graves and looked once more to Kratos.
The man cleared his throat, "Their armor, thane, should we…" he gestured somberly, trailing off.
Kratos shook his head firmly, "No. Bury them armed and armored, wrapped in their cloaks. They died as soldiers. They will be buried as soldiers." The men all nodded along, appreciating the sentiment.
The detail leader turned to the men, "Hans, go fetch their weapons. Alen, find some ropes." With quick salutes the two men in question jogged off to retrieve the requested items. The remaining party waited solemnly for them to return. The other soldiers not on sentry duty had begun to filter over and by the time the two had returned everyone had gathered at the grave sight.
Kratos gestured to the fallen, "Put their weapons in their hands." Once that was done, he nodded to the head of the detail, "Lay them to rest." With a few quick orders the man organized the details and one by one they lowered the bodies down into the simple graves. Once they were done he turned to Kratos, "Thane, should we place a headstone or marker?"
Kratos regarded him for a moment before replying, "They have their marker." He gestured to the meadow, encompassing the ashes below the surface "They are marked by their victory and the ruins of their enemies. There is no better marker." Lydia watched the solemn scene and could not help but notice more than a few of the soldiers, watching the burial intently many holding or rubbing at the omega adorned necklaces that had become so common after Lars and his men had joined them.
She turned back to see Kratos bend and place the first handful of dirt in each of the graves. Her eyes narrowed as she senses - felt? - something. There was some sense of weight to the proceedings, a light not visible to the eyes, the same that shone from the faces of many of those who looked on, omegas in hand, lips moving silently in unwritten, instinctive benedictions.
The men of the burial detail began to fill in the graves now, dirt falling quickly, as Kratos stepped back from them and the energy of the tableau began to dissipate until it was simply another Skyrim morning. Kratos and Lydia stood solemnly watching the burial. Once the graves were filled completely, Kratos turned to Lydia, "Break camp. It is time we returned."
Kratos sat at the head of the table with a strong exhale. He tapped idly at the table's surface with one thick finger for a moment before picking up the tankard before him and drinking deeply. It was good to be back in his own hall. The return to Havverfjord had been an uneventful journey at least, even if considerably slower in pace than their departure due to the number of returning wounded in their party.
Now that they were back there was much to do. Much had changed even in the couple of weeks that they had been gone hunting the Dark Brotherhood. He had seen many new buildings beginning construction even in that time. People were flooding into the town. Kratos closed his eyes as he set the mostly empty tankard down, mentally fortifying himself for what was to come. A most difficult task. Administration.
"Greetings, my thane!" came all too chipper voice as Thomas, his steward, swept into the room, carrying various ledgers and maps. He settled quickly at the table, precisely laying out all the papers he was carrying, "Now, one fact I'm certain that you'll be interested in, we now have 500 soldiers, a huge force for our region, especially for a town of our size and more are coming almost daily." He gestured to the city plan, "We have begun construction on the additional buildings necessary as most of the new recruits are camping currently. Given that, Valdr has brought forward this proposal" Thomas took the opportunity to slide a paper across to him, "detailing his recommendations for those he believes should be promoted to fill out the command structure."
Kratos nodded and glanced at it briefly, noticing that Lars was slated for a high position, "I give my approval. Take the list to Lydia. She will make whatever changes to it that are necessary."
Thomas made a note with his quill and nodded, "As you say, thane. Now regarding the city plan and its progress…"
At this point Kratos interrupted, "The graveyard will come next."
Thomas blinked, "Excuse me, my thane?"
Kratos' bass rumble continued, "For our dead. We will need five headstones immediately. Lydia will give you the names of the fallen."
Thomas nodded grimly, "I see. I will see that it is prepared immediately and arrange a stone mason for the headstones."
"Good."
The rest of the morning passed away in much the same fashion with various logistical details and the tedious aspects of governing. Of which, to be fair, Kratos had very few given his essentially laissez faire attitude towards most aspects of governance apart from infrastructure and the military.
As their discussions drew to a close, Thomas placed several sealed letters in front of Kratos, "These missives came for you while you were away, thane." He tapped the one on top with a finger, "I think this will be of particular interest to you. It is from the court wizard Farengar. It arrived just yesterday."
Kratos picked up the letter with a rumble, his brows drawing together in a slight scowl. Thomas gathered the rest of his papers and ledgers and left the room as Kratos broke the seal and perused the letter. It was brief and somewhat rude, much in keeping with Farengar.
Kratos,
You should come to Whiterun if you're not too busy hitting things or whatever it is that you do. I have an old colleague visiting from Winterhold. She mentioned they discovered some strange relics. It sounds like one of those artifacts you've been asking about.
Farengar
P.S. I do believe that you will owe me something for this.
Kratos looked at the letter for a moment with narrowed eyes, before tossing it onto the table and sitting back. His voice boomed through the hall, "Lydia!" A few moments later she entered the hall, followed by another one of the functionaries that had been hired to assist with the logistics and organization of their growing corps of soldiers. She whispered a few final words to him under her breath before striding up to Kratos. She had taken the time to freshen up but was still in full armor.
She cocked a brow at him, "Kratos?" Kratos said nothing but passed her the letter from Farengar in reply. She read it quickly, her eyebrows creeping up as she did, before reading it again and setting it down. Lydia let out a breath and leaned against the table. "Another item from your home?"
Kratos nodded, slowly tapping a finger against the polished surface of the table, "Possibly."
She nodded slowly, "Then I am all the more surprised that we are not on the road again already, making haste to Whiterun." She looked at him, puzzled, "You could hardly wait to get your hands on your axe once again."
"You are correct." His voice was low gravel, "I am… less eager to retrieve what I believe this to be."
Concern flashed across her features, "And why is that?"
His voice was gravelly and grating, "They remind me of who I once was. Of many mistakes."
"They?" she asked, raising a brow.
"You will see. Perhaps I am wrong." He stood, "In any case, even if I do not desire them, they are my responsibility." He paused before muttering under his breath, "And one I cannot escape." Lydia's eyes narrowed as her keen ears caught his words.
Kratos shook his head briefly before looking at Lydia once more, "We will take the day to see to our affairs here. In the morning we depart for Whiterun."
Lydia nodded her understanding, "Very good. I will put together an escort for us."
Kratos rumbled his agreement, "A small group. I do not wish to risk our soldiers on what is a personal errand."
Lydia tilted her head, "They are sworn to you, thane. They will do as you command."
Kratos nodded solemnly, "It is their duty. It is my duty to spend their lives as dearly as possible." His eyes bore into Lydia, "That is the duty of command, Lydia."
"We honor them as they honor us."
"Yes."
Lydia sighed gustily, "Well so much for having some time in my own room with my own bed." She gave him a sly grin, "Knowing you, this simple trip will turn into a long expedition with battles sprinkled liberally throughout."
Kratos let out a snort and flapped a hand at her, but his eyes were smiling "Enough of your cheek, girl! Away with you. We both have work to do."
Lydia gave him a courtly bow and went to leave. She paused at the door and turned back to him, "A spar later?"
Kratos looked up from the papers before him and Lydia thought she saw the corners of his mouth twitch up, "Of course. You have gotten sloppy. You let a clown stab you."
Lydia rolled her eyes and tossed her hands in the air as she stepped out, "He was a highly trained assassin! And that happened one time. One time!" She walked through the hall and thought perhaps she heard him chuckle behind her. It would be good to get some sparring time with Kratos. Ever since they had begun training together it was difficult to feel like she was truly pushing herself otherwise. The training she did with the other soldiers was more for their benefit than hers.
She looked down at one hand, flexing it as she walked. She knew her limits. Or rather she had known them. Before joining Kratos' household she had been a good fighter, solid and dependable... but not a great one. Now though… She wondered how much Kratos had changed her. Not just the training but his influence. The more devout amongst the soldiers, Lars chief among, only referred to her as Redhand, as if she were some sort of saint.
A strange thought, though perhaps she was. She did follow a god. She pursed her lips as she considered the idea. If Kratos' 'blessing' resided with their men, and from their preternatural endurance and the speed with which their skills improved, she believed that it must, then surely she was party to that same blessing and in greater measure if anything.
She shook her head, focusing on the immediate tasks at hand. Whatever divine aid she received or didn't she still had a job to do. There was no use worrying about it one way or the other.
The following morning they set off for Whiterun with a group of 10 of their soldiers as support. After spending a night on the road they arrived without incident in Whiterun. Kratos led the small column at a quick jog up the rise to the gates of Whiterun, passing quickly by all the standard traffic of commerce in and out of the city. They moved in a precise lockstep despite their speed and the weight of their armor.
As they passed through the gates Lydia heard the sentry behind them call out to his compatriot, "So you didn't want to try to stop him this time, Alding?"
To which another voice replied, "Nine Divines, Gregor, you are such an arse!" Lydia simply raised a brow but said nothing. Frankly, she would be surprised if Kratos hadn't managed to have some memorable run-ins with the city guard. In fact if anything it was almost more surprising that he hadn't had a severe one.
Kratos kept the men moving through the city until he raised his fist, calling a halt in front of the Bannered Mare. He turned to the sergeant, "Baric, take the men inside. Rest. Eat. We will return when our business with the wizard is complete." The sergeant saluted quickly and then turned, leading the squad into the tavern and detailing loudly the punishment that would come down like divine punishment on any of them stupid enough to get drunk.
Kratos and Lydia missed his more inventive descriptors as they had departed immediately for Dragon's Reach. Soon enough they were tromping up the stone steps to the jarl's hall. The guards standing at the doors to the hall recognized Kratos immediately and without hesitation pulled open the large, double doors to the jarl's hall. Kratos gave them a minute nod as he swept past into the main hall.
Proventus Avenicci, steward to Jarl Balgruuf, approached when he saw Kratos enter. He drew himself up to his full, but unimpressive height before speaking, his displeasure evident in his tone, "Thane Kratos, what are you doing in Whiterun?"
Kratos did not pause or even glance in the imperial's direction, but swept past without hesitation, leaving the man spluttering indignantly in his wake. Lydia spared him a look as she swept buy, close on Kratos' heels, but similarly said nothing. The steward stalked off, fuming and muttering not so under his breath about disrespectful, jumped up barbarians with delusions of grandeur.
Catching some of his diatribe, Lydia's brows drew down and her gauntlet creaked in her clenched fist. Kratos' voice caught her, as he spoke without turning or deviating from his course, "No. We have no need to address the toothless, yapping of old dogs."
At that, Lydia relaxed and let out a chuckle, "When you put it like that, my thane, I can't disagree." Kratos merely let out a small rumble in reply and continued on his way. He swept into Farengar's workroom and came to an abrupt halt before the mage. The room was strewn with alchemical equipment, strange curios and old things. Farengar, who was examining a soul gem, suddenly noticed the ashen titan before him and let out a yelp, tossing the gem into the air in surprise. After batting it back up into the air once, he managed to seize the gem and get a good grip on it again.
"Must you do that?" snapped Farengar, "I truly do not understand how someone that big," he gestured sharply at Kratos, "can be so quiet."
Kratos let out a dull rumble, "I am not quiet. You are inattentive."
Farengar actually looked somewhat offended at the remark before letting out a sniff and replying, "Some things simply do not merit my attention. I am a very busy man."
"Then do not waste my time. What relic do you have news of?"
Farengar shrugged, "Straight to the point then. As expected. Like I wrote in my letter, a colleague from my days in Winterhold has come to Whiterun and brought disturbing news." Farengar set the shining gem down on the table, "Probably best that we cut out the middle man." He walked to the door and flagged down a passing servant, spoke to him briefly and then returned to Kratos and Lydia.
The mage sat with a huff. "I've sent a servant for Satheri. She should be here soon." Kratos simply nodded and said nothing, standing with folded arms as still and impassive as a monolith of stone. Lydia, for her part, sat on the edge of the work table, ignoring Farengar's disapproving glare, and proceeded to watch the naturally animated mage grow more and more fidgety and unnerved by Kratos' stillness and the silence that had filled the room.
Farengar cleared his throat, "So…" he said looking over at Lydia, "how, uh, is your little town? What's it called again, uh… H something. Hari - no - Haldisbu…" The mage trailed off lamely at Lydia's completely impassive face.
The next moment the servant entered with a tall, thin dunmer woman following. Farengar threw his hands in the air, "Thank the Divines!" Ignoring the odd looks from the two newcomers, Farengar stood and walked around the table to them, muttering as he did so. The court mage cleared his throat once more and began to make the introductions, "Satheri, this is Thane Kratos and she is Lydia, his housecarl." He gestured to each in turn before pointing back to Satheri, "And this is Satheri Rothandus, a very competent mage and colleague of mine from my time at the College of Winterhold." They all exchanged a cordial nod as the wizard looked on.
Farengar clapped his hands together, "Excellent. Now that we are all acquainted, I think we should take a seat." He indicated the odd mismatch of chairs that surrounded them, "This may take a little time." After a few moments everyone had settled into a seat, though Kratos did appear almost comically large in the small chair that held him. Farengar continued, "Satheri comes with troubling news from Winterhold. News that may interest you Kratos and this meeting may also provide a solution to Satheri's problem, so I thought it best to bring you both together." Farengar sat back with a smile, looking, all in all, rather pleased with himself.
After a moment of silence, Satheri spoke, "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, thane. I do not know what interest you may have in this matter as it is far outside Whiterun hold and farther from your own holdings." She let out a small sigh, "We were studying a ruin in the Hold. I won't bore you with the details, but we made two very significant discoveries. Strange and likely ancient relics of great power." Her hands clenched into fists in her lap, "Shortly after our discovery, the Thalmor swept in, threatened our lives and ejected us from the site."
Lydia and Kratos exchanged a look at the mention of the Thalmor. Which Satheri's keen eyes noted. "It seems you have had your own experiences with the Thalmor." the dunmeri mage stated.
Kratos' amber eyes met her dark ones, "Yes. I have no patience for them." He paused a moment before continuing, "Tell me of these relics."
At that Satheri looked somewhat uncomfortable, but at an urging gesture from Farengar she spoke, "One is a large floating orb. It is covered in ancient sigils and writings the likes of which we have never seen. It is a font of raw magicka! If one were to tap into its power…" She shrugged and quietly continued, "There's no telling what a talented mage could accomplish."
Satheri could see that the ashen giant's interest was quickly waning, but his gravelly voice broke in again, "And the other item. What of it?"
Satheri shook her head in bewilderment, "That is, if anything, even stranger. They burned their way up through the stone, as if searing their way into existence." She could see that she had his complete attention now, "I don't know what these strange blades are or where they came from, but when one of our expedition touched them he burned with an unquenchable flame." She swallowed hard, "It was horrifying."
Lydia was watching Kratos' face throughout the explanation. She saw him close his eyes and let out a resigned sigh before focusing again on the elf. Kratos took a moment before replying, "Where is this ruin?"
Satheri cocked a brow, it was clear to her that the man's interest was only in the strange blades they had discovered, "I can mark it on your map." She cleared her throat softly, "Why do you want the blades? Do you know what they are?"
Kratos stood, his voice a low growl, "They are mine. My responsibility."
Farengar stood as well, clapping his hands, "Which solves your problem!" he smirked, pointing at Kratos.
Satheri interjected again, "The Thalmor will not let you take them. They -"
Kratos cut her off, his voice harsh and cold, "Then they will die."
"Ha!" Farengar burst out and pointed to Satheri, "Which solves your problem!" He folded his arms, a smug smile upon his face.
Disapproval wrote itself large across the dunmer's face, "Farengar! I do not want an open battle! I simply do not trust the Thalmor with those items and yes, I admit I do want our research site back."
Satheri fell silent as a map was thrust into her lap. She looked up to see Kratos holding out a quill to her. "Mark the ruin on the map." The command was clear in his voice and it sent a primal chill down her spine. She swallowed and despite her reservations marked the location of Saarthal on this strange thane's map. The instant she was done he rolled and stowed the map.
Kratos turned to Lydia, "Go gather the men and purchase supplies for an extended journey." Lydia saluted briskly and immediately jogged out of the room. Kratos made to follow her at a slower pace, but paused in the doorway and turned back. "Wizard. Tell the jarl I will be killing more Thalmor. He will want to know."
AN: Apologies to everyone for the unintentional hiatus that we had here. Work got crazy for a while, I got the 'Rona for a bit (nothing serious at all, pretty mild) and it kicked me out of my writing cycle.
In any case, thanks all for the notes I got inquiring about my health and wishing me well.
I do need to say we just broke a full 1000 follows and are coming up on that in favorites for the story which is pretty dang awesome. I do love the reception that this has gotten. I never would have expected it.
A bit of a quiet chapter here, but next time we get to the part that a lot of you have been waiting for for a long time.
As always please take a minute or two to leave a review, I love hearing from all of you and your feedback means a lot to me. Thanks again for reading!
