AN: Another day, another chapter. Thanks for all of the views yesterday, over 300 in one day is nuts for me. Technically I should be studying for finals right now, but I've been gripped by this story and it won't let go.
Even numbered chapters mean review answers:
Ceps: I'm... not sure what you're trying to say here, whether or not it's a good story or not. I hope you like it, still. Thanks for your review!
Brother Bov: Well, yes, you got it right obviously, as you'll see in this chapter. Thanks for your review!
Characters and worlds belong to their respective owners (Tolkien and Bethesda.) Storyline up until about chapter 25 belongs to Demon-Kagetsuki as well.
Kíli felt a chill run down his spine as he saw Brænna's hungry eyes. He knew he was in danger as she took a step toward him, all traces of the Half-Elf he knew gone, replaced by a cold, reptilian predator. He heard the company's shouting as they attempted to scramble out of the cave, but the ground must've been too steep as none of them had made it out of the mouth yet.
Luckily for him, and unluckily for it, one of the Wargs broke formation and decided to attack what had once been Kíli's friend. It and its rider leapt over the smoldering bodies of their kin, dashing toward the reptilian Elf. Brænna turned when she heard the heavy footfalls, and lifted her arms to protect her head as the Warg leapt forward, puncturing the thin leather of her bracers. Blood flowed freely from the wounds and stained the fur of the Warg, and dripped onto her face, making her look even more feral than before. She let out an inhuman sound like a mangled cross between a screech of pain and a roar before shoving the Warg off, sending it through the air to land on one of its companions.
Kíli tried not to draw her attention as she stalked toward the circling Orcs, trusting that her attention had been truly diverted to her new prey. He was concerned about the bite she'd taken, knowing Wargs carried many infections, but his current situation warranted more fear for himself rather than for Brænna's health.
The Orcs grew tired of the waiting, and their leader, a squat ugly thing, barked out a command in Black Speech, and all of them leapt forward at once. She let out a snarl, baring unnaturally long fangs, before shouting something in the Dragon tongue that sent all of the offenders flying. She took this moment of weakness to rush forwards and leap at the nearest Orc, slamming her feet into its chest just as it was about to rise from the ground.
Kíli felt a wave of nausea as he saw her raise a hand with black talon-like nails, and had to stop himself from heaving up his already scant breakfast as he saw her tear out the throat of the Orc, hearing it gurgle into the silence. She stood, black Orcish blood dripping off her armor as she stalked toward the next fallen orc, a low growl that even he could hear twenty yards away emanating from her, her gaze fixed on her helpless prey.
Kíli felt the dread pool in his stomach, knowing that as soon as she was done with the Orcs she would turn toward him. He made it to his hands and knees, but his attention was diverted to the sky as he saw a massive shadow sweep overhead. He nearly cackled at the irony that he would ever be happy to see the great red Dragon.
Odahviing knew something was very, very wrong when he saw a plume of fire erupt from the plains as he flew to assist his friend. He pumped his already strained wings harder, cursing himself for not staying closer to the company as he took in the situation. He could see shapes circling two small creatures, assuming one to be the Dovahkiin, but even further away he clearly saw glimmering armor approaching on horseback.
As he came down for a landing next to the black-haired Dwemer, he saw how dire the situation was. Brænna had used a Thu'um and was unable to regain control, or even think rationally. She spun toward him with a snarl as he landed, the large wolves and strange riders forgotten as a more powerful, challenging opponent showed himself. Her red eyes glinted dangerously underneath messy white hair, sending a shiver down his spine at the reminder of his previous commander. She let out a flaming shout of challenge, but was surprised when the Dovah leapt over her, avoiding the fires that seared the earth, and swept away any of the riders that may have gotten underfoot. He knocked her feet from under her with his tail, and pinned her with a claw before she could react.
She shrieked, enraged, as she struggled under his claws, promising a painful, drawn-out death in Dovahzul, and using many colorful terms as she did. She shouted flames directly into his underside, causing great pain, but he did not let up, knowing that if she were to get free he would be unable to take her by surprise again.
"Dilfahliil," Odahviing growled, tightening his grip as he spread his wings. "Join your companions. I have seen attackers riding from the east and do not know if they seek you or these miserable creatures."
"What about Brænna? What's wrong with her?" Kíli asked desperately, worried for the health of his companion.
"She will return when she is ready. Do not speak of this to the others," the great red Dovah said as he took off into the sky, dust and dirt swirling in the downdraft.
Kíli was about to yell at the dragon, wanting answers when he heard a loud war horn being blown. He sprinted to the cave, sliding down the entrance where his companions all exclaimed worriedly at the burnt and frayed edges of his clothes. The battle outside the crack silenced them as the pounding of hooves echoed throughout the crevice along with the screeches of dying Orcs. One such casualty slid down the cave entrance and stopped unmoving at their feet. Thorin kicked it with his boot, and was met with the gruesome sight of charred and rotting flesh, with a broken arrow shaft sticking out of its neck. He yanked the arrow out, inspecting the head.
"Elves," he spat as he threw the shaft to the ground. He glared at Gandalf, about to demand an explanation when Dwalin cut him off.
"I cannot see where the pathway leads! Do we follow it or no?" he hollered.
"Follow it of course!" Bofur yelled back.
The Dwarves all started down the path as Thorin turned to Kíli. "What happened back there? Where is the Elf?" he asked, his stare furious at Gandalf's deception.
What do I say? I don't even know what happened out there, Kíli thought, wondering what, and how much he should tell Thorin.
"She…" he paused, gathering his thoughts as they stumbled down the crevasse. "She protected me from the Wargs by setting off some massive fire spell that hit many of our attackers. She helped me up, and we fought the remaining Orcs. The hunting horns distracted us, and a Warg jumped on her and bit her arms. She dropped her sword, and told me to run, using spells to keep the wargs off of me. The last thing I saw was a Warg dragging her away," he answered, voice trembling, hoping the lie was believable enough.
Thorin pondered, searching for signs of dishonesty before turning back toward the path. "Onward. It seems we've lost our dragonslayer."
Bilbo objected, angrily. "What? You're going to let her go just like that?"
"If she was taken by the Orcs, even if she managed to return alive, she would be in no shape to continue the quest. We move on," Thorin answered, not bothering to even look at the Hobbit.
"What if she was a Dwarf?" Bilbo asked. "Would you-"
"But she is not!" Thorin snapped, turning to face Bilbo. "I will not sacrifice this quest because a she-elf could not manage to defend herself. We. Move. Forward."
"Her name is Brænna, and she's helped this company more than once. At least give her the decency of her name!" the Hobbit shouted back in a rare display of courage and anger. In an instant, he withdrew into himself, and said, "Please. She was my friend."
Thorin's eyes softened at Bilbo's comment, before shaking his head. "Brænna is gone," he said.
The rest of the company continued on through the tunnels that would hopefully lead them to safety, some talking amongst themselves about the Elf that had tried to befriend them, all of them mourning the heroic, but altogether unnecessary loss of life. Bilbo stayed near the back, hands clenched with anger, as Kíli stepped up next to him.
"Don't worry about Brænna, Master Bagins," he said. "I have a feeling we'll see her again soon enough."
"What makes you say that?"
"Just a feeling."
Unless otherwise specified, all dialogue in the following scene is in Dovahzul.
"How DARE he hold us like a hatchling! RELEASE US! RELEASE US!" Brænna shrieked, as Odahviing flew away from the field, gaining altitude so the riders wouldn't spot him.
"Enough! Dovahkiin! Regain control of yourself!" Odahviing snarled as he dodged another flame shout. "You risk losing yourself completely in this madness!"
The half-elf snarled again, using her new talons to attempt to claw at Odahviing's toes. Quickly losing patience, Odahviing let her go. She shrieked in surprise and anger at the drop, and was caught again, though facing downward this time.
"Push through the others who cloud your soul. Restrain them!"
"She cannot control us! We are free! She cannot come forward! We will be released from this pitiful form and become Dovah once more!" the souls who occupied her body screamed.
Odahviing found the canyon in which he'd been hiding once more, and dropped her at the bottom before landing at the top. The walls were steep and impassable, and he waited as she splashed around in the shallow stream below.
Her white hair whipped around wildly, her hood having fallen long ago, as she clambered around looking for an escape. "You cannot keep us here forever!"
"That is not my intention," Odahviing rumbled. "Mal Dov, I know you can hear me. Do not let them take over your spirit. Push them away and seal them once more. You are strong enough to overcome this."
She was about to roar in range, but the sound was cut off by a strangled choking noise. She shuddered and collapsed, the shallow stream flowing red with the blood still leaking from the holes in her armor. Gripping her head in pain, she whimpered, "Stop. Please."
Odahviing climbed down slowly, placing his feet carefully so he wouldn't slide down and crush her. "That's it. They cannot control you if you do not let them."
In her own mind, the Dragon Souls she'd absorbed writhed and clawed at the cages her own soul had made to contain them. In the bleak, barren landscape, some of the Dragons had escaped during the moment of weakness and were trying to help the others break their own.
She screamed in rage at the souls, blasting the swarming energy back to their cages with illusionary fireballs. All but a pair of twin Frost dragons had been re-caged, and she was about to pass out with sheer exhaustion. She hammered at them, alternating between offense and defense as she fought the twins, finally managing to subdue one. Instead of flying back to its cage though, the soul bound to the other twin with a flash of light so bright she had to cover her eyes.
The shadowy form of the Ice dragon loomed over her, laughing mockingly. "You are so weak right now. One blow and you are gone. Our freedom is nigh!" it crowed.
"I will NEVER let you free!" she screamed as she ran forward, burying her spectral blades into the hide of the Dragon's chest. It screamed as it disintegrated, before being re-caged by her soul.
She collapsed on the ground, the pressure in her head finally released. Her vision turned nearly black in exhaustion when the Death-Knell voice returned, saying, "Well done, Konahrik," it said, with a voice like oil, just before she returned to the real world, the shadow of glowing red eyes swimming in her vision.
Odahviing stood before her when she regained control over her own body, heaving upward out of the shallow water, and gasping in pain.
"It is all right, Mal Dov, you are safe," the crimson dragon said, his voice a calming rumble reverberating through the canyon.
"Kíli…" she rasped, her throat sore from the Dovahzul she'd screamed. "Is he…"
"Yes, he is with his companions," Odahviing reassured.
She sighed with relief, falling back into the stream. "Good. Good," she rasped.
After a few minutes of catching her breath, she heaved herself upward, hissing as her wounds stung in the frigid water.
She inspected her armor, cursing at the damage done to her gauntlets, and glancing down at her bloodsoaked attire. Slowly, carefully, she removed the black leather and studded metal, wincing whenever it brushed against a wound. Soon, she was in her skivvies in the water, attempting to cast the most simple of restoration spells on herself, pain stabbing behind her eyes every time she ran out of Magicka.
"You were trapped for quite some time, this time around," Odahviing said, laying down on the riverbank.
She whimpered as the magic purged the toxins and diseases from her wound, explaining. "They are getting stronger, and more numerous each time. I'm not sure if I will be able to regain myself if they continue to grow in strength at their current rate. I used all of my magicka this time to survive, and it will take me too long to recover it naturally."
Startled by something, Odahviing hissed, and Brænna jumped to her feet to check what was wrong. After she fell on her backside, lightheaded, she cursed in anger and frustration as she saw that the black scales had spread from the inside of her shoulder blades to the top of her shoulders and partway up her neck.
"Damn it. Damn it!" she yelled in frustration as she leaned back and pounded the ground. It had been nearly a decade since she'd last used the Thu'um that she'd hoped that her scales would stop spreading. The more draconic she got, with the scales, the fangs, long even for a full-blooded Vampire, even the darkening of her eyes from a soft amber to their current bloodred, the less in control she felt of her thoughts and emotions, venomous, traitorous ideas sneaking their way to her conscience, that she had to physically concentrate in order not to follow through with. It seemed that the scales were spreading faster and further with each Thu'um she used.
"What matters is that you did not lose yourself," the red Dovah said, shifting his weight so she could access the saddle packs on his neck.
She rummaged through one, pulling out white strips of cloth to use as bandages, and a small phial of health potion before gently patting Odahviing's neck. Wiping her teary eyes, she pulled out her apothecary satchel and added dried blue mountain flowers, a crushed skeever hide, and some powdered bear claws. She uncorked the mixture with her teeth and mixed a bit in, creating a salve that she rubbed it on to the angry red bite. She sighed as the pain lessened, but knew that she'd need a healer to check for infection. Her Bosmer heritage may have helped with diseases, but who knows what these Wargs might've been carrying.
"What am I going to do, fahdon?" she asked. "I don't know how long I'll be able to continue this fight. I just want to rest. Is that so much to ask?" she mumbled, leaning back against Odahviing's warm side again, having pulled herself completely out of the water.
The red dragon was silent for a moment before looking up at the sky. "For now, we will continue the only way we can. To fight so others do not have to. Perhaps in the end, we will find our peace."
They were quiet for the better part of an hour, a comfortable silence enclosed around them as they sat watching the sun purple the sky at sunset. After quite some time, she pulled herself upward using Odahviing for support. "I believe…" she groaned, "It is time for me to return to the company. Who knows where that path led, and what I'm going to have to explain." The wood elf stooped down to pick up an extra bandage to cover the scales, and checked over the spots of blood that had soaked through the bite on her arm.
She picked up the Nightingale armor and poked a finger through the hole the Warg's teeth had punctured through it. "What a pity. It's going to take forever to get this repaired and cleaned…"
"I suggest you wear it anyway. You were last seen wearing it, and I believe the Dilfahliil Kíli will be able to explain your disappearance," Odahviing rumbled as he stood, stretching his wings.
Surprised, she glanced up at the Dragon. "You trust him?" she asked.
"You do not trust easily. This is your nature, but I believe you made the right choice in trusting him," Odahviing answered.
She hummed, still uncertain. With a sigh, she started putting on the blood-soaked and sweat-covered leather armor. She left her hood and mask down, and mounted the saddle she'd placed on Odahviing's neck. "Let's go," she said. "Hopefully, we'll be able to catch up."
The journey passed in silence, except for the rushing of air and the gentle flap of wings as they sped across the sky. Just after the sun had completely left the sky, they arrived at the rocky plain, and she spotted the crack where the rest of the company had escaped to.
She slid out of the saddle and looked around, observing as carrion birds picked at the dead bodies, some unrecognizably burnt.
"I think it would be best if you continued hiding for now," she said. "I'll call for you when I reach the end of the tunnel so you know where I am," Brænna said, as she saw the impressions of large boots in the dust below.
"I agree. Watch yourself, and call should you need my assistance. I only wish I could've been closer for what happened today," he said as he took off.
"Do not blame yourself, Lok Zeymah. It couldn't have been avoided if I wanted to save Kíli's life. Take care, and may we see each other soon," she said, bidding him farewell.
She moved around the dead orc laying in a pool of its own blood, and travelled through the narrow pass. She felt the tingle of magic, and felt a sense of refreshment, of peace, and it only grew stronger as she got closer to the end of the tunnel.
She reached the exit, and the sight before her took her breath away. In the shimmering star and moonlight, she saw an entire city that reflected the sky above with lanterns and pools of water everywhere.
She began her descent, stumbling down the stone path to the entrance.
The dwarves had just been served their "dinner" which they looked at with disdain and disgust. Some of them were respectful, and tried to eat it, while others pushed it out of the way looking for something they deemed "edible."
Dori leaned over to his younger brother, who held a leaf of lettuce. "Try it. Just a mouthful."
"I don't like green food," Ori said sadly as he set it down. A glimmer of hope entered his eyes. "Have they got any chips?"
Dwalin picked up a handful of leaves while Oin speared an onion with his knife.
Kíli wasn't paying attention to the meal, and instead observed his hosts. Giving the harpist a flirtatious wink, his thoughts turned to another Elf that was on his mind far too often nowadays. He was shaken from his reverie by Dwalin's firm stare, and quickly tried to cover it up.
"Can't say I fancy elf maids myself. Too thin. They're all high cheekbones and creamy skin; not enough facial hair for me. Although…" he paused as another elf walked past. "That one there's not that bad."
Dwalin glanced up at the elf, and snorted, saying, "That's not an Elf maid."
Confused, Kíli looked toward the elf, and realized, yes, that it was not a maid. He felt his cheeks burn as Dwalin winked at him. The other dwarves burst out laughing at his mistake, and he cursed himself. All of these bloody elves look the same! He thought.
Still, he let his thoughts wander again to another elf that didn't resemble these tall, graceful beings at all, one that wasn't with the company.
Whatever's wrong, I hope Brænna's all right. Odahviing said she would return, but when? I need answers… but I'm sure she would appreciate the company of her own kind, he thought bitterly, remembering her harsh treatment at the hands of the rest of the company. He paused, thinking, Am I jealous? No. It cannot be. I am not jealous, just because they share heritage with my friend. Besides, she looks nothing like these elves. They have sickly, pale skin, while hers is bronze, her eyes are rubies, unlike the dull brown and blue…
He caught himself, wondering why the hell he was thinking so heavily on the physical attributes of his missing companion. He was distracted, however, when Gandalf's friend Lindir rushed up the stairs to where Thorin, Gandalf, and Elrond were sitting.
Long ago, partially as a dare and partly out of his own interest, Kíli had learned bits and snatches of Sindarin and was able to understand when the Elf spoke.
"My lord Elrond! An injured traveller approaches, saying she is part of this company. She calls herself 'Brænna Stormcrown' of Skyrim."
All conversation stopped as the rest of the dwarves understood the name the guard had spoken.
Elrond stood, asking, "How badly is she injured? Bring her to the healing room," he said, as he swept out of the room alongside the guard.
Gandalf stood to follow Elrond, but addressed the company instead. "It seems our dragonslayer has returned to us."
Again, don't forget to review if you liked it and especially if you didn't because that's the only way I'll improve as a writer. Hope you enjoyed it!