THE BINDING WORD
The Dragonborn
She was seething. Damn near close to screaming and tearing her hair out. That incessant buzzing was back. And it wasn't dimming. Oh no, it was only getting worse. She looked everywhere in the wolf's overly lavish room. Everywhere. The wardrobe laid to waste on the ground. She searched the bed, under it, over it, above even into the ceiling. There was nothing here. Just that buzzing. The only sound you hear when you are between two worlds.
She still has some blood on her hands. She's quick to lick it off before a servant passes the door by. The cuts were efficient. Quick. She couldn't have Ulfric seeing what she was doing with his precious steward. If she were to kill him, she may as well sever her ties with Ulfric because he would eventually bring that death back to her.
The Night Mother was nothing but thorough, though. As per the bear of a buffoon's request of not having Jorleif strung up by his toes. She cut him on his feet and his hands too. All before sending him off on a horse with nothing but a letter and his noble clothing to shield him from the relentless snow. It was cold for the final summer month, and she was making good use of it.
Now, she just had to find those damn Artifacts. She knew they were in here. Or else they would be with the wolf. But she's been…protective of this room. Stealing into the night to enter the dungeons and return. Multiple times. There wasn't much down there. Just filthy hay and a sorry excuse for a cot. There had to be something.
The bitch was too frantic to get back from the battle. That means she couldn't carry them all with her. The Night Mother falls to her knees and begins. Her fingers curl around a loose board, it snaps when she brings it up, but she figures she will just place something over it. A towel, or a carpet. No one will notice.
Nothing below this one but more of the castle groundwork. Cold stone greets her, she moves her hand down it, slowly. It would be so like them to just throw them down here and put it out of sight…
"What are you doing? I've been looking all over for you."
Her head snaps up at his voice. "Ulfric. I thought you were resting."
"And I thought you were getting food." He nods to the Night Mother. "I found that odd. You know you can have whatever you need from me."
Her eyes stray down his neck to the welts showing themselves. Yes…she has bitten him a few times. But she needed a quick excuse to get out of there for the night. More blood was the only thing she could think of in her frantic escape from all the noise in her head.
"I didn't want you to feel faint…you need your strength." She places the wood down gently and rises.
He is mad alright. She can see it in the way he's watching her. How his fists are balled. She allows a few tears to come. They are genuine, she wants her Castle back, she wants these pathetic mutts gone, and the only person standing in her way doesn't even care to see it.
She races over and sinks, as if she had tripped, to fall into his arms. He catches her. "I'm so sorry, something has gotten into me. You know what she did to me. I fear for it every night. Every time I close my eyes I get the worst feeling, like she has found that Razor again and is going to break into our room. Glide around the bed and stab you and me both. We'd be dead by sunrise." She explains a little too quickly, her words were tumbling into one another.
His hand pushes some of her hair back. He tips her head up to him. "Why would they ever do that? With all the guards? And you, the Night Mother? The person everyone fears? You think she can trick you that well?"
It was an act. A flimsy one, but her fear was real. He didn't know what it was like to be on the soggy ground of Sovngarde with his face cut open. Not being able to see when the bitch dug the blade in and tried to twist it. But, by the good grace of Sithis, Tsun was there and able to stop it. Or they no doubt would have found a way to prolong her suffering.
"I am fearful every time she walks by me." She whispers. Those words are true. Even at dinner, she kept her eyes on her. When the ringing in her ears came back, she kept looking over the wolf's shoulder. She knew someone was there with her.
Ulfric pulls her up gently. "The war is wearing on our minds and souls. It's good to keep focused but also to…rest. I have an idea we can toy over in the morning."
"What is it?" She allows him to lead her away all while leaving the wolves room in tatters. He snaps to a few nearby servants.
"Clean that. Put it back how it once was." He tilts his face to her, "We need to get out of here for a few days. We can go to the Holds I have commanded. Galmar is working well in the field. We can communicate to him by letter."
How…foolish. He was willing to show his face in the greater province all for a little vacation. "Are you sure? It would be the prime opportunity for the Imperials to ambush you and capture you."
He laughs, "I would like to see the day they try it. No, we will take the back roads, the ones secured by my men. We will be careful. Afterall, I know the Imperials won't lay a hand on us with that power of yours…"
And there it was. The dig that comes back from time to time. Her power. He knew she was far stronger than he was. Far older. She believes that deep in his heart, he knew that he was as flimsy as the wood she broke when stacked up to her. But she must keep up the illusion.
She buries her head in his chest as they enter his bed chamber. "I'm going to miss this room then."
His hand runs down her back and towards the front of her elaborately designed robe. "We have another night in it. Let's not waste a moment."
The morning sun rose behind the clouds. She was going to miss the cloud cover, where she could keep her hair unbound and unhooded. But she will do what she must. She sips another drink of her blood as Ulfric dives into pastries and juices across the way. The banquet table was fuller than it was last night.
"Is it because the wolves are not here? Or because the servants are keen on breakfast recipes that this table is so full?" The Night Mother says over her goblet.
He laughs, "I believe it's because I'm the only one eating! This food is decadent…don't you miss it?" He puts his meaty hands on another sweetroll. The frosting falls off in droves on his skin. Repulsive.
"No. I am not missing it in the slightest." She takes another sip of blood.
His eyes are hooded, he keeps eating like a pig who hasn't seen his trough in days. "More for us then." He snaps and soon servants and guards are moving to the table to take whatever food they wished. They give them both their thanks and exclaim at how good the baking is, how good the chefs are, and how they should be promoted.
The Night Mother is deathly bored of the whole scenario. But she would not be outdone. She reaches over and grabs one of the precious sweetrolls. Ulfric smiles at her and nods his head. "They're fresh. Very good today. A good send off to the land of the unknown."
She takes a bite. All the sugar and dough feel like charcoal in her mouth. It takes a great effort to swallow it. "It is lovely." She murmurs.
Ulfric laughs. "It is, isn't it? If only Jorleif was up this early in the morning…ah the spoils he misses out on with that bed head of his."
She doesn't say anything to this. Just sips her goblet as if she didn't see the man the day before, terrified and pleading to stay the Palace of the Kings. She supposes Sithis has been watching out for her. It is best to leave this place, or else Ulfric might start asking questions he won't want the answers to.
The carriage they will ride on is outfitted with a black exterior and a red, velvet interior. There is a ceiling to it and windows that could be covered if one wished. Gold was etched into the sides, showing a Nordic design. "Last I saw one of these was near Bravil. I thought only the Imperials and Thalmor used such contraptions." She muses.
Ulfric leads her with his hand at the small of her back. She is clothed and ready for the day, a red dress that is modest for once, and a gray cloak to shield her from the sun and cold.
"Imperials. We ambushed them and took most of what they kept. This was one of their methods of transportation. It will help camouflage us if nothing else." He opens the gold rimmed door for her.
"As if the Imperials wouldn't know it was you in here. Only the High King would be running around in such a thing where we are going."
He climbs in after her, "They won't even see us. We will be kept hidden by my men. I have strict orders for our route. Those who are nearby need to watch out for any suspicious activity."
His hand takes hers, "But, you have not told me yet…where is it you want to go?"
She smiles, she has many ideas but first, "I need more Words of power. My associates have been doing all the research they can since they are just holed up in that Castle awaiting Tullius's advancements."
"That won't happen." Ulfric says with certainty. He pulls one of the curtains to keep the light from searing in. "Where would you like to go first?"
The answer is simple. There are many words she will need if she wants a chance against the bitch wolf. "I already got the first of many Words at the Throat of the World, Fire Breath. I need more of it. We need to go to Dustman's Cairn and Sunderstone Gorge."
Ulfric mulls over this. "Sunderstone Gorge is further away and Falkreath just has just been liberated. However, I would prefer to spend the night in Whiterun. Take a day or two to get these things, it will be easier on the guards and horses."
Her heart beats like a caged bird. She never wants to be that weak again to allow someone to wound her so. The cut above her heart burns. "Sunderstone Gorge first, then Dustman's Cairn. We will go from there."
Ulfric nods, he is still indecisive about the ordeal, but she won't let him change her mind.
The man truly, had nothing to fear. They reached Falkreath Hold without any uproar from the foolish Imperials. They entered Sunderstone Gorge without so much as a skeleton to block their path. Ulfric insisted that Stormcloaks aid them on this journey, so she let them go ahead. When they found the traps and draugr that were infesting the place, a few died. She only stepped over their bodies to get to the other side.
Once they found the Word wall, the power was pulsing. It was enticing. Calling her home. She stepped into the half circle and let it settle into her bones. Ulfric and the other remaining men watched in awe. Some tried to transcribe the dragon language, but it was fruitless and painful to listen to.
"Now, to Dustman's Cairn." She commands them. She can already feel this power simmering under the surface. Fire Breath.
"We need to rest here." Ulfric says. "The camp is near Helgen, it will take the rest of the day to ride there. In the morning we can go straight to Whiterun."
The other men seem weary, as if they are so tired from just riding on a horse's ass all day and having a little fight in the dusty crypts. "No." She affirms, "We are going to Dusntman's Cairn now. Even if I have to go in myself, I will make sure I gather these Words of power."
Ulfric pauses, "My men need rest."
She can't help it. She shouts, sending the newly acquired Fire Breath out near the men. Not close enough to incinerate but enough to show what she is capable of. "Then send the cowards to your 'camp' and I will ride alone. I will drive the damn carriage myself if I have to."
Ulfric keeps her gaze. He is weighing the scales. Just how much will he push her? "Fine. We ride to Whiterun tonight."
"To Dustman's Carin." She finishes for him.
He gives a curt nod and that is it. Just a snap of his fingers and his men are following him, grumbling about the length of the journey to this location. She follows, her eyes darting from man to man, assessing their weaknesses. If they are truly nothing but dead weight, then she would be wise to dispose of them quickly before bringing them into the Brotherhood.
Ulfric didn't say a word as they ghosted through the chilly night near the central Hold. She didn't even try to coddle him or whisper words of forgiveness. She just watched the land roll by her. Outside, the Hold had taken some of a beating. She remembers the night that first dragon landed in the fields. The first one to be incinerated. It is nothing compared to the carnage she sees now.
"This is Galmar's doing?" She asks.
Ulfric shifts to peer out the window next to her. "Yes. The wolves helped him take this Hold. Jarl Balgruuf surrendered without much of a fight."
"Fitting." Is all she says. She keeps her eyes on Dragonsreach. It is not as pretty as it once was.
The Night Mother figured she would give the men a little break when the carriage pulled forth to Dustman's Cairn. "Sleep here and sleep well, I will be back in a few hours." She tells them.
Ulfric grabs her arm. "I don't want you going in there alone."
"Your enthusiasm is just dripping off you Ulfric." She replies.
He ignores that, "I'm coming with you."
She glances over him. He's had little food and water, given most of it to his famished soldiers, and has barely slept a wink. She is beginning to think it is because she shares the carriage with him. But for once, it wasn't about lust. No, he was scared of her the whole ride here. She could sense it. She overstepped a boundary.
"I will go, I will find this, and you, my dear, will get some rest." She finishes.
Ulfric keeps hold of her arm. "I don't want you hurt." He begins. But I know what you can do. Those words go unspoken. It's why he lets her go.
She stands there for a moment. Watching as the man gives up the fight. To seal the deal, she leans into him and kisses him with the same amount of passion as the first time. He just stands there, just allows her lips to form over his. He doesn't return the gesture.
"I'll be back soon." She whispers.
The Cairn had already been decimated. There were barely any draugr in here, so it was easy to follow the call of the Word Wall and take the final piece to the puzzle. She lets the power settle before trying it. A few random skeletons were walking about. She incinerated them in the blink of an eye with her newfound Shout. This is precious.
No more having to rely on the call of the Void for her electric power, not a damsel in distress waiting for Sithis to grant her that wish. She can now roam freely with these Words and has many more to collect.
When the cold air breathes through the crypt entrance, she pauses. She waits. Many hearts beat near where their makeshift encampment is. She is sad to admit, but she is relieved. One would have thought Ulfric would run away after such a wooden response to her affections.
The Night Mother scales the edge of the crypt, taking care with where she puts her feet. These places tend to crumble when one least expects it.
They're all snoring. She can hear the heavy rise and fall of Ulfric's chest from inside their cabin. They could go to Whiterun now and find a room, but she decides to let them be. It has been a long time since she has been able to wander freely.
The night air is fresh out here, only the scent of burnt wood and crumbling rock mars the great outdoors. The stars above are so bright and shining she realizes she forgot what it was like to be in a sea of nothingness. In the Void, there is no light. There is no sound. Just a presence. Something to cling to and Sithis does his duty well. He makes you beg for his presence. He makes you work to get any scrap of a new sense, anything fresh to give you. He certainly is not like the Daedric Princes, who give so much so freely and without a care to what it means for them.
She supposes Mehrunes Dagon would be the only one she would respect. Him, and Molag Bal. But as she has seen in the past, their brashness when pushed into a corner does not bode them well in the way of strategy.
The breeze comes, fluttering her cloak and the soft field of grass. She keeps her eyes on the nebulas above. What would be like when they are gone? She muses. She can just feel it now. A reign all her own. Soon, she will be able to pull her people out of the now decaying Castle and to somewhere greater. Perhaps the Imperial City would do. She could finally put that tower to good use…
Something rustles in the undergrowth. Not something small. She moves back, her hands now out to her sides and the call of the Void in them. The spark power is now simmering in the palms of her hands.
An arrow sails past her ear. She has the good reflexes to move her head slightly. And is quite surprised when the thing rears its horrific face.
A wolf. A werewolf stands no more than ten feet from her. Her heart quickens. There is no way the White Wolf and her companion were this far into Whiterun Hold. Galmar was taking them near Fort Sungard out in the Reach. There is no way she could be here.
The thing lunges and she has to follow suit. Bow away from it before running. It gives chase. Now that she is a vampire, any potential for clumsiness is gone. She races over the scraggly ground with ease.
It barrels after her. She feels the tips of its claws tearing at her cloak. It tears right off. She screams out when another assault of arrows flies to her. She can't help it when they pierce her neck, her shoulder, and her arm through. She is taken down when the great beast leaps on her. Her face scratches the harsh dirt.
The Night Mother's breathing quickens. She will not be taken like this again. Not flayed alive until her heart beats outside of her body. Electricity races down her, sending the great wolf from her. He howls in pain.
Her grin is only for herself. She loves that sound. Wishes she could bathe in it. And bathe she will. She directs her gaze to where the arrows were coming from and calls the Fire Breath. It takes down the remaining shrub in the way. Allowing her to see who has attacked her.
How interesting.
Before they can respond, she sends her power across the way, taking them down and keeping them down in electric chains. Smoke rises from the small fires that now dot the landscape. The wolf howls in pain behind her but all she does is walk straight to where Ulfric and his men lay.
"Get up." She tells them.
Men scramble to their feet, Ulfric opens his door after she bangs on it a few times. "What in the world? Night Mother. What's going on?" He takes her form in with a horrified gaze. Her cloak is gone, and she still has arrows impaling her.
She blinks her pretty lashes at the Nord. Gives him a smile when he realizes she is goading him.
"I have something out in the fields that would be of great use to us."
Ulfric looks over her head, peering out into the darkness. "The fires and the sparks? It's certainly magic based on how it stays contained."
"Not the magic." She snaps. "I have something of use in the fields. We must forgo the rest of our Word hunting and get them back to the Palace promptly…I would like to see her face when she sees them." Her smile is grand.
Ulfric has to stumble out there and see them for himself. When he comes back, he confirms just who they have with them. The rest of the three Companions are in their grasp and soon to be in chains. She didn't think her luck would stand for so long, but Sithis is gracious. She will make sure to do him good.