AN: Yay, another chapter done. As I'm writing this Author's Note, it is currently almost 3 AM, because why not have a whacked sleep schedule? I would love to be able to post a chapter once every week, but let's be honest, I can't wait to upload as soon as I get each chapter done.
Even chapters mean review answers!
DjonUstard: I'll have to read that, though I only know the very basics of Warhammer. Speaking of everybody having their own opinion, and not trying to spoil anything, I hope I don't get too OOC with one of these characters.
Characters and worlds belong to their respective owners (Tolkien and Bethesda.) Storyline up until about chapter 25 belongs to Demon-Kagetsuki as well.
The gentle padding of small bare feet counterpointed the heaver stride of booted feet as they tried to keep up.
"Ada!" the young girl cried, "It's too far, and you are going too fast! Can you please carry me?"
The tall Bosmer paused before looking down at his pouting daughter. "How else will you grow strong legs if you're carried everywhere? Soon, you'll be too big to pick up!"
"Adad, pleeeease?" the Elfling girl begged, unshed tears glimmering in her eyes as she reached upward to be picked up.
The Bosmer sighed, knowing that this was a battle he would never win as he picked his crying daughter up. "All right, all right. No more tears please? A pretty face like yours should never have a reason to cry."
She stifled, wiping away the tears with the long sleeves of her dress before curling up into her father's chest. "Okay…"
Their walk was quiet, other than her father's respectful greeting when they passed others. The sound of singing and music echoed down the halls as they neared an open garden filled with all kinds of plants and Elves reading, talking, and of course, singing. As they walked further into the flowery enclosure, a voice as pure as crystal rang through the air.
The Elfling immediately perked up and started struggling, nearly launching herself out of her father's arms. "Put me down!" she demanded.
"Commanding little one you are," the Bosmer replied, setting her down on the sunlit paving stones of the walkway. Holding her hand, they followed the sound of the voice and he said, "Come now, your Nana will be worrying about you."
They walked the twisting path until it ended in the centre of the garden, a small, but ornate pavilion made of polished white stone at its center. Seated upon chairs no less ornate than the pavilion were three figures deep in conversation.
"Nana!" the child cried.
One of the figures turned toward the voice, a tawny-skinned Elf with shimmery white freckles on her face as if the stars were trapped within her skin, silvery-white hair, and eyes like a forest in high summer.
A ray of sunlight struck Brænna directly on her closed eyes, rousing her from the dream, announcing that morning had come. Exhausted from the late-night party with the Dwarves, she was tempted to stay under the comfortable covers until she was needed. Denying these urges, she sat up with a hearty groan, stretching until her bones popped, and blinked away the sleepiness that threatened to make her curl up under the covers and go back to sleep. The floor was cold when she set foot on it, and she shivered as she slowly made her way to the baths.
Carefully, she unravelled the soiled bandages, and frowned when there was no trace of injury except a slight discoloration where scars should be.
There's no way that even these elves could heal an injury this quickly without magic, she thought. It must be the Dragon Souls doing. Their effects are becoming more and more visible each time I use my Thu'um. How long before I…? No. Worry about that when the day comes.
She took off her nightgown, undid her sleep-mussed braids, and dipped herself into the baths. Breathing deeply, she drew in the faintly floral steam that suffused the space. Free from her bandages, she held her breath and dunked herself completely in the water. A sense of calm filled her as all the outside sounds were muted and it was quiet, and warm. She curled in on herself, and the feeling of floating eased her mind of the most troubling of the thoughts, and allowed her to think of happier times, when things were not so complicated and she wasn't aware of the curse or its effects.
In her mind's eye, Farkas's face floated before her, and she reached out a hand to caress his cheek. His fingers meshed with hers, and his mouth opened to say something, but he was interrupted by the sharp stab of pain that was her lungs demanding air.
She gasped as she breached the surface, the vision having fled. She heaved her upper body onto the cool stones lining the bath, sobs already wracking her slight frame. She slammed her fist onto the stones multiple times until her hand was bruised. Her hair dripped noisily onto the stones, echoing in the bathing room as she composed herself, not bothering with scents as she scrubbed herself raw, ridding herself of every stain and bit of dirt and grime, real and imagined.
Roughly, she dried herself with a towel and yanked her brush through her hair, combing out the knots as she tried to not think of anything at all. She wrangled her hair into a functional hairstyle, already knowing that her scalp would ache later. When it was time to dress for the day, she was faced with a dilemma. The blue dress lay folded and unworn on the chair next to the bed, but for what would happen this evening she would prefer to be wearing something that allowed for easy movement. Considering her luck during the summoning of course something would go wrong.
Still, the red tunic and pants were stained with food and sweat from training the day before. Frowning, she slid into the gown, and was surprised when she found that not only did it fit, but didn't hinder her movement in any way. She groaned, already feeling the warmth of Midsummer's day, and even with the light fabric of the gown, the neckline ended just below her chin. Still, it covered all of her shoulders and far up her neck enough to cover the scales, and the sleeves were unornamented, ending at her wrist without any large ruffles or drooping ends that would get in the way. Despite the gracefulness of the dress, she strapped her belt and swords to her waist, setting her jaw as she opened the door.
She made her way to the training field and found that several of the dwarves had already begun their day by sparring, rather than taking a public bath this morning. She circled the field's perimeter, studying their swordplay until she reached Ori, who sat on a bench, nose-deep in the journal he always seemed to be carrying. Peeking over his shoulder, she watched as he slowly, carefully drew the buildings of Rivendell. She sat down quietly next to him, making sure not to distract him, and watched as he detailed his drawing of an arch.
"That's slightly more rounded," she said softly, and he flinched when he realized that he had an audience. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Your art is beautiful."
Shyly, he said, "Thank you," and began tracing the lines over again, darkening them until he was satisfied.
"What were you doing while I was telling my story yesterday?" she asked, curious.
He paused, pencil freezing on the page, before continuing. "I'm recording all of the events of our travels so that maybe one day, I can tell them to others. It only makes sense to write down your story since you're part of the company as well."
Brænna was touched at the thought of him seeing her as part of the company, rather than just an Elf who had trailed along for the quest. Smiling, glad that she'd left it in her belt pouch, she pulled out her own journal. "I have something that might be of interest to you," she said. "In this, I have the descriptions and observations of Dragons from my homeland. I'm sure you'll find it an enjoyable read."
Ori looked up at her with shock, accepting the gift with reverence. He ran his thumb along the leather cover with the most gentle touch that she'd ever seen from the Dwarves.
"Thank you," he said. "I'll be sure to treat it with care." He opened the book, looking through the writings and illustrations.
"I don't doubt it," she said. "I'm sure that it is in excellent hands." She stood as she spotted Bilbo glumly striding toward her.
She wished she could teach him to avoid fire attacks, but she was still recovering her magicka. Instead, she focused on heis sword skills, exercising him over and over, testing him on what he remembered from the day before. Obviously, he still had much to learn, but he was actually doing fairly well for someone who had only trained once. It was when they started on new moves that he fell back into his awkward, sharp movements. Not even an hour in, Bilbo had had enough.
"Stop, you're locking up your elbow, and the movement will never be smooth if you continue like that," she patiently corrected as she moved him around like a shop window mannequin.
"What's the point," he said glumly. "It's not like I'll ever be a good swordsman. I doubt that I'll even be decent!" he said in frustration as he slumped his shoulders.
She got down to his level, saying, "That's the root of all your problems. You lack confidence in your own abilities. Where's the Hobbit that so proudly spoke of his skills at Conkers?"
Mumbling, he said, "Back home making Afternoon Tea, rather than standing on an Elvish training field."
She sighed, as she stood up and walked away without saying a word.
"Wh-what? Where are you going?" he exclaimed as he chased after her.
Voice icy, she said, "I do not help those that do not wish to help themselves. I am homesick as well, my friend, but I do not allow that to impair my abilities here. Talk to me when your confidence comes back, as training you now is like training a Skeever not to bite."
She found herself back in the library, eyes shut as she quietly meditated away her agitation with the Hobbit and the memories from earlier, having found a quiet nook in between a few of the bookshelves. A soft knock broke her train of thought, and she opened her eyes, seeing Kíli next to a bookshelf, having knocked against the wood.
"You weren't at lunch," he said. "Some of us were worried you had stormed off to parts unknown."
She sighed, standing and smoothing the wrinkles of her dress, studying him in the dim lamplight. He was dressed differently, in Elvish style clothing. She could only guess that he wore them out of desperation as his travelling clothes had likely been taken away to be washed. To be honest with herself, she actually found him rather attractive in ith, though she preferred him in his usual Dwemer gear.
No, I prefer himself in neither, she scolded herself mentally, then blushed at the image her poorly-worded thoughts had brought up.
"I just needed some time to think," she said, glad the darkness obscured her embarrassment. "Nice shirt, by the way," she teased.
Looking away and crossing his arms, he said, "Yes, well they took away our clothes and left us with nothing but these flimsy… things," he said. "You can probably guess what Thorin's reaction was when he found out. I can see they got to you as well."
"Not my favorite kind of clothing, I admit, but I've had worse," she replied, striding past him.
"Really? I think you look rather nice in it," he said, before clapping a hand over his mouth, eyes nearly popping out of his skull.
She raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Really?" she said, turning up the charm, a mischievous thought having crossed her mind. "You find an Elf like me attractive in this?" she half-purred as she walked back over to him.
"That's not what I said!" the black-haired Archer objected, muffled by his hands.
"Of course," she agreed. "Well, it's such a shame my duty calls me," she continued, having backed him up against one of the bookcases.
Completely expecting a kiss from the she-elf, Kíli had clenched his eyes, but was surprised when a few seconds later he found her striding across the room, halfway to the exit already.
Jogging up to her side, he said, "That was very rude, you know."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said with a cheeky grin, opening the door out into the hallway.
He playfully punched her arm, before realizing that she might still be injured. Seeing he was about to start apologizing, she rolled up her sleeve, saying, "It's all right. It's already healed up. One of the perks of Dragon's blood, very fast recovery," she said, before quietly adding, "apparently."
"That's… actually what I came to find you to talk to you about," he said. "Before you..."
"Released my feminine charms on you?" she said, the tips of her ears turning pink.
"Sure. Why…?" he asked.
She shrugged. "I thought it would be funny," she said. "Moving on, I will answer what I can, and what I feel isn't too personal. What do you want to know?"
Not asking right away, he finally said, "You have a very strange sense of humor. Anyways, how far do your dragon powers go? You can breathe fire, and all your other Thu'um, but can you also fly? How did you, you know, calm down when you do? Are there certain instances when using your power doesn't-" he rattled off quickly, before she cut him off laughing.
"One question at a time, dilfahliil!" she said. "I don't like to talk about it, for obvious reason. I can breathe fire, but I can also breathe ice, call animals to my aid, freeze enemies solid, call storms, clear storms, and many others. As Odahviing loves to remind me, I cannot fly as I do not have wings."
She paused, face growing pensive. "No, I have found no such instances when their use does not affect me. As for getting me out of that state, Odahviing simply trapped me until I released myself. When I was with my husband, he would hold me, and comfort me while insisting I didn't hurt others," she finished with a somber look, tugging down her sleeves.
Kíli had stopped a few paces pack, and she turned around a questioning expression on her face.
"You have a husband?" he asked softly.
"Had," she said, turning back around. "He died of old age centuries ago. I would have too, but my situation forces me to stay alive, like I told you."
"I've been meaning to ask you about that. I thought all elves were naturally immortal?"
She gave him a sharp look, eyes wide. "What?"
"W-well, you know, they don't age, and can only be killed in battle or…" he trailed off as he saw the fury in her eyes.
She turned toward the railing at the side of the hallway, fingers white-knuckled gripping the cold stone. Quietly she asked, "You mean to tell me that should we have been born here we wouldn't have been separated by death?"
"I'm not sure about that," he said, not really understanding.
She snarled, gripping the stone so hard it actually began cracking. Glaring at the sky she hissed, "This is how you repay me for all I've done? I've saved this damned word so many times, but you couldn't even let me have my happiness. With all the power you claim to have, you couldn't even spare one life, while these… milk-drinking bastards bask in it."
"Brænna?" Kíli asked, a note of worry in his voice.
"I need to go," she said, as she stalked down the hall with a pace fast enough that Kíli struggled to keep up with. "I need to prepare for a summoning to allow us to read the map's hidden message."
Half-jogging now, Kíli said, "Do you need help?"
She stopped, turning toward him. He saw the tears in her eyes, saw her hands clenched in fist, and that she was barely holding back her pain and rage.
"Thank you for asking, but no. This is something I need to do on my own," she said.
As she turned away, he grabbed her wrist saying, "If you need somebody to talk to, I'm here. You don't have to hide things from me. I'm your friend, and I want to help."
She gave a shuddering sigh and nodded. "Thank you. It's been a long time since someone's offered."
He gave her a comforting smile, patting her on the shoulder. "It's not a problem I'll let you be on your way, but we will be expecting you later tonight. Nori found a way to sneak into the kitchen, so we are expecting to have a feast. The food that they serve here for meals isn't quite filling for a Dwarf."
She laughed, bitterly. "And not enough for this elf," she said, having regained enough of her composure to laugh. "Not a big fan of greens, since we Bosmer are usually carnivorous. Make sure Bombur leaves a plate for me."
"No promises!" he said, beginning to walk the other way.
She shook her head in amusement, and walked to the end of the hall where she asked the on-duty guard where she might be able to find Lord Elrond.
The pain that had settled within her when Farkas died hadn't disappeared, just dulled with time. The knowledge that these elves were capable of being with their loved ones without the worry of age separating them, though, made her furious. Still, Kíli's words echoed in her mind and gave her some solace. It had been a long time indeed since someone had offered to help her personally. It had been just her and Odahviing for centuries, since the majority of their long-lived friends and allies had more important jobs to do in order to keep the peace in Skyrim.
Well, if Kíli wishes to help me, then of course, I'll do everything in my power to help him and the Company succeed," she thought to herself as she knocked on the door to Lord Elrond's quarters.
"Come in," she heard, muffled through the wood of the door. The room was spacious, incredibly so, with books and papers piled on a desk that the Elven Lord was currently sitting at. He looked up when she entered, and set his quill down.
"Hello, Mistress Stormcrown, what brings you here?" he asked as she sat down across from him.
She stared at him for a while, trying to discern anything that might slip before asking, "You're hiding something from me."
He quirked an eyebrow, saying, "What do you mean?"
"I've had dreams since I've gotten here, not exactly clear but… fragments of what feel like memories," she started, her face a frown of concentration as she tried to recall her dreams. "I think… either me, or someone like me was in Rivendell. There was a young girl and her father, who was definitely a Bosmer, … and Nords who were carrying out Akatosh's will from the Bosmer's visions. OF course, then we were in a garden, and you and Lindir were there, and… the most beautiful Elf I've ever seen, with white hair, and sparkly freckles, and green eyes…" she said, trailing off as she saw the sad look in his eyes. "You know who she is?" she asked softly.
He sighed, and though Elves were ageless, he seemed to feel the weight of his years in an instant until he looked up. "Yes. I know her. She was a very dear friend of mine, and the only reason that the others were allowed to stay here in Rivendell. They called themselves the "Od Kendov," and said they were there to carry out a mission from their gods. I would've banished them from these lands had she not persuaded me it would be for the betterment of all who lived in Middle-Earth.
"I cannot say more, out of a promise, and the thought that it may do more harm than good, but you are correct. These dreams, they are memories," he said, looking up. "Your memories. I do not know what has caused their loosening, but I know that being here is helping them return. I can only hope that you can find what you are looking for."
Brænna answered, "But… how can they be mine? I'm a Bosmer from Valenwood. These memories are far too old to be mine."
He shook his head. "Your father may have been Bosmeri, but you also have the light of the Eldar within you," he said, taking her hands in his own. "Your mother was one of the Children of Illuvatar."
She was quiet, taking in the information before standing. "Thank you for speaking to me. I… I have a lot to think about."
She rushed out of the room, leaving Elrond to stare after her. "Oh Istilrína," he said. "If only you could see how much she has grown."
The sun of the longest day of the year was beginning to near the horizon, and night was quickly approaching with the waxing moon shining between the clouds. Everyone at the meeting when Elrond first read the map had been led to an unrailed overhang, with a crystal table that Brænna thought to be made of quartz or moonstone.
"Now what?" Thorin asked gruffly, staring at the quiet Bosmer.
"Now, I summon who we need," Brænna responded, kneeling on the floor, pulling out several ingredients and a special old relic. "I must warn you now, that who I am summoning is dangerous, but neither good nor evil. Thankfully," she paused as she pulled out a strange blue and white, multi-limbed artifact, "She owes me a favor. Expect anything to happen since this isn't the day her power is strongest," she warned. "I need complete silence, and must absolutely, under no circumstances, be distracted.
"There is a reason that I told you to bring your weapons with you," she said.
"So what you are doing is very dangerous," Elrond clarified, the tone in his voice warning her, making her want to get it over with quickly.
"Very," she said, setting the Star down in front of her, sprinkling several handfuls of glow dust around it. "If I open the portal to the wrong place, I could be bringing in an entire army by accident. Luckily you have me, and not some half-brained cultist doing this."
She pulled out the Blade of Woe and sliced open her hand, dripping her blood on the dust, before pulling a rather startling object out of her pack.
"Is that…" Bilbo whispered.
"A heart? Yes. Not a man's an Elf's or a Dwarf's or anything else you should be worried about It's the heart of a Dremora warrior from the Planes of Oblivion, the place where our ally makes their home," she answered as she placed it on top of the center of the Star. "Now, I need silence. Also… it would be better if you didn't speak, for the less they know of Middle Earth, the better it will be for everyone involved."
She held a yellow rose in one hand and a black in the other, and began speaking in a foreign language no one there but her knew. The relic began to shine in the light of the sun and the moon, and it shone with an eerie blue color that collected around the heart.
Behind her, a crackling portal tore through the air, red rimmed, and releasing a black-skinned warrior with red war paint. "I can smell your fear!"
Not stopping her chanting, she gave Kíli a look, communicating something to the Dwarf. "Kill it!" he shouted, drawing his weapon.
Due to its thick armor, it didn't go down as easily as expected, but as soon as Elrond joined the fray with a sword Gandalf tossed to him, the Dremora warrior's greatsword clattered to the ground, disarmed by Thorin. Elrond speared his blade through the warrior's chest, and it gurgled a scream, dropping to the floor as it turned to ash.
Their attention turned toward Brænna, who was nearing the end of the ritula. With a final push of mental exertion, calling out the last of the chant, the portal shimmered gold, and a creature of indescribable beauty stepped through, standing on thin air.
Her hair was gold, with a crown of roses on her brow, her bronze skin wrapped in multihued cloth like clouds at sunset.
With a voice that shimmered and shook the air at the same time, she asked, "Why do you summon me outside of Hogithum, Champion?"
"Lady Azura," Brænna said, breathless, falling to one knee. "Forgive me, Prince of Dusk and Dawn, Mother of Roses, Lady of Twilight and Queen of the Night Sky. I am in dire need of assistance, and have humbly summoned you to call in a favor given me when I helped purify your star."
With eyes like miniature suns, Azura glanced over the assembled companions, who watched with guarded expressions, weapons ready in case everything, as it usually did, went wrong.
"Peace," she said to the company. "Lower your arms, mortal weapons will not harm me," she ordered as she gestured for Brænna to stand. "Tell me, my dearest Champion, who are these people, and what need is so great that my help is needed?"
Brænna swallowed with nervousness. "I understand that you have great power over the moon and its phases. We are in desperate need of a crescent moon to read a hidden message hidden within the map of my ally, Thorin Oakenshield," she said, gesturing to the Company's leader.
The Daedric Prince's eyes narrowed. "You wish me to aid the Dwemer?"
A chill fell over the group. Brænna said, "I understand you dislike the Dwemer, but my Lady, these are different from the ones who lived in Tamriel, otherwise they would have disappeared with the rest," Brænna said. "They hold that their kinship is with earth and stone, not to the heart of Lorkhan, or with…" she hesitated, closing her eyes as she said the name, not knowing truly how Azura would react. Nchylbar."
A weight lifted from Brænna's shoulders, and she opened her eyes to find the Prince of Dusk and Dawn kneeling so she was eye to eye with her Champion.
"I believe you," the Prince said softly. "You have served me well, far better than any other champion I have had, which is why I have allowed you to keep the Star you have cleansed, instead of summoning it back to Oblivion."
The Daedric Prince paused for a moment, expression far away. A warm smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. "My sister wishes you to know she is proud of your progress, though she believes you have far to go. Hircine…" she paused, gaze far away. "Hircine tells me your beloved is at peace, and even joins the Hunt from time to time."
Azura frowned, saying, "I have the power to give you what you seek, but the laws of your world, established by the Aedra, require a sacrifice."
"I will give you a soul," Brænna said.
Azura's frown deepened. "This will cause you a great deal of pain," she said.
"I know," she said, bowing as Azura stood. "Thank you for your graciousness,"
"I only ask that you visit Moonshadow and Evergloam more," Azura said.
"Of course, my Lady," Brænna said.
Azura sighed, before turning to the darkening sky, the moon having crested well above the horizon by now. She raised her immaculate hands, and spoke in the same language as Brænna had for the summoning. In the moonlight, shadow flowed from her hands, and before their very eyes, the moon declined in fullness until it was a perfect crescent.
"And now for payment," Daedra said.
Brænna nodded grimly, and covered the space over her heart with a hand. The air thickened and warped as the space began to glow, and as she screamed, the Bosmer pulled her hand away. Blood dripped from her nose and mouth, her legs buckling beneath her as she fell to her knees. Finally, she stood, front covered in blood holding an erratic ball of energy.
"I thank you for your patronage," Azura said, taking the ball and kissing Brænna on the forehead, the injuries and blood disappearing, the portal audibly crackling shut behind her.
Coughing, voice rough with screaming, Brænna said, "Well? What are you waiting for? I'm not doing that again, not for a very long time."
Elrond nodded toward her and walked forward, unrolling the map on the crystalline table. As the rays of the crescent moon hit the table, it shone with light that flowed from the map, and glowing runes appeared.
"Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole," he said, reading the text out loud.
"Durin's day?" Bilbo asked, having rejoined the company after having wisely fled when the Dremora attacked.
Gandalf clarified, "It is the start of the Dwarves' new year, when the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together."
"This is ill news," Thorin said to Balin. "Summer is passing. Durin's Day will soon be upon us."
"Time? For what?" Bilbo asked, wondering what the significance was.
Balin looked at Bilbo and then to Thorin. "To find the entrance. We have to be standing at the right spot at exactly the right time. Then, and only then, can the door be opened."
"So this is your purpose?" Elrond asked. "To enter the Mountain?"
You guessed that a long time ago, you cheeky git, Brænna thought, having collected all of the items from the summoning.
"What of it?" THorin asked, standing straight, posture daring the Elf Lord to stop them.
Elrond looked between Thorin and Gandalf. "There are some that would not deem it wise,"
Thorin snatched the map out of Elrond's hands, and Gandalf asked, "Who do you mean?"
Turning back toward the cave that connected to Rivendell, Elrond said, "You are not the only guardian to stand watch over Middle-Earth."
The members of the company present looked toward Gandalf, questions upon their faces.
"I suggest you make your way out of Rivendell," The Wizard advised. "We have what we came for, and they will most certainly try to stop our journey to Erebor. You need to move on tonight while I speak with Lord Elrond about some… other issues."
"You won't be joining us?" Brænna asked, joining the semicircle around the wizard.
"If you leave today, I will be able to catch up to you while you are crossing the Misty Mountains," Gandalf answered, and turned to the Company leader. "Wait for me on the other side."
Like I said, I hope it's not too out of character for Azura. I'm glad that so many of you like it, and like always, don't forget to review, favorite, and follow if you like it, and especially, review if you don't because that's how I know what to fix!