Chapter 11

Tirdas, the 12th of Second Seed, Year 202 of the 4th Era

Aelea remained in wolf form for a long time. She fed off all the Silver Hand corpses in the final chamber but did not feed off Skjor. Eventually, she laid down beside him and just held his corpse. After a little while she started making whining noises.

Daenerys felt like an intruder, but she wasn't going to leave Aela to grieve alone. Cautiously she came up to Aela and stroked her fur. "I'm here wolf-sister. I'm here." She took off her armor, drug a bedroll over to where Aela lay and lay down beside her. She felt tiny trying to hold and comfort the huge werewolf, but as she stroked Aela's fur the werewolf seemed to calm. "Rest, Aela. He roams the Hunting Grounds. You will see him again someday."

Some time while she held Aela they both drifted off to sleep. She woke up when clinging to a naked woman who turned in her arms. To make matters more awkward she was holding onto Aela's breast. Slowly she released her grasp.

Aela grabbed her hand. "Don't go. Skjor was my mate, but I've loved both men and women in the past. Stay with me."

She didn't resist as Aela moved her hand back, but she was not at all certain she wanted to take this step. "I've only had one woman as a lover, and she betrayed me. I killed her."

Aela turned in her arms to face her. She smiled. "You were born to be a wolf. I will never betray you, wolf-sister."

Daenerys sighed as Aela slid a hand up her neck and caressed her face. She had never looked at Aela as a lover, but it had been so long. Her last lover had been Jon Snow, who had also betrayed her. Aela was leaning into her, and although she had never considered the red-headed huntress to be a possible lover she pressed into her. She tilted her head. That was all the encouragement that Aela needed. The huntress kissed her hot and hungrily and started to roll her over onto her back. Daenerys felt her heart beat faster, she returned the kiss and pushed back hard.

Aela made a little sound of surprise as Daenerys moved on top of her, but she didn't resist.

"I may be a wolf now, but I am also a dragon." She kissed Aela again deeper this time, their tongues tangling together. Whether it was the wolf inside her or just months of celibacy, she wanted this more than she had in a long time. When the kiss broke she stared into Aela's eyes. "Be careful that you don't wake the dragon."

.oOo.

When Daenerys returned to Jorrvaskr, Kodlak Whiteman wouldn't look her in the eye even as he announced that she was now a member of the Circle. Daenerys had known that he wouldn't be happy with her decision, and she had expected him to berate her for accepting Hircine's gift. Instead, he almost ignored her, focusing instead on Skjor's death. It probably didn't help that Daenerys had helped Aela bury Skjor in the woods, close to nature. Instead of burning his corpse on a pyre at the Skyforge, Kodlak merely led a short memorial service. The Harbinger sounded much older as he spoke of Skjor and the battles they'd fought together.

The wake came after the memorial service instead of before. That night they feasted in Skjor's honor. The Champions took turns telling stories of Skjor and drinking in his memory. Aela was notably absent. After the memorial she had just disappeared, so it fell to Daenerys to tell the battle of Gallow's Rock and how Skjor died. She did her best to tell a story benefitting a Companion, but Skjor's death hadn't been heroic. They had all been fools to keep pressing forward as fast as possible and trust that they were simply strong enough to crush the Silver Hand. She had known it was foolish, that the Silver Hand weren't idiots and used numbers and tactics. The ambush was a predictable counter. Yet, who was more foolish? Skjor and Aela? Or her for following them? She was relieved when the tale was done, and she could sit down.

Daenerys barely touched her wine as listened as the Companions told other stories about Skjor. Kodlak even told the story of the one hundred and one orc berserkers, but to her ears the story rang false, especially about where they fought back to back with swords in hand. Maybe it had happened that way. Maybe wave after wave of orcs just kept charging two men armed with swords, but maybe two werewolves had rampaged through a mob of orcs. She tried to catch Kodlak's eye, but again he continued to avoid her gaze.

Daenerys suffered through the feasting and drinking. She understood why Aela had ducked out, and it would have been more difficult with her new lover present. She found her mind drifting to Aela frequently. Their one night of passion had been intense, but she didn't think they would be lovers for long. Aela's grief and her own loneliness had brought them together, but Aela still mourned Skjor. Daenerys also preferred men, or did she? As she drank she ran her eyes over the Companions and serving wenches. She was much more attracted to men, that hadn't changed. The serving wenches with their flirting and were attractive, but not in a way that made her want to carry them to bed. Farkas or Vilkas on the other hand… yes, she certainly still preferred men. Aela had been an exception, like Doreah. She was guessed that Aela felt the same, but they hadn't really discussed it yet.

A loud cheer broke out as Vilkas swept up one of the serving wenches and carried her off to the prow. Kodlak rose and tried to leave quietly. The way he looked away from her when she tried to catch his gaze was made her decide that enough was enough. She followed him, easily catching up to him. "Harbinger, I think you and I should have a talk."

Kodlak finally looked her in the eye. He wasn't angry. He just looked old and weary. He sighed and nodded. "Let's go to my table. It will be private enough with the wake going on."

Daenerys nodded her agreement and followed him down into the barracks beneath Jorrvaskar to the little round table outside his quarters. Naturally, Lydia followed them. The way Kodlak moved matched with her earlier assessment. He was an old wolf, tired, but still dangerous. When they arrived at the table, he grabbed a tankard of mead for himself and poured her a goblet of wine. Kodlak sat down in his chair and nodded at her, but he didn't say anything. She was surprised by him serving her. He had never done so before. The sharing of food felt important, but apparently it would be up to her to bridge the silence between them.

"Are you angry because I took Hircine's gift? Or because I got Skjor killed?" She kept her tone soft, not accusing, but her words were deliberately provocative to get Kodlak to open up.

"You didn't get Skjor killed. He did that himself. Skjor and Aela have been slipping more and more into Hircine's grasp over the years. They started treating every battle like a hunt. I had hopes that you could act as a balance, show the Companions that there is more to fighting than personal vainglory. Remind them of the camaraderie. Every man his own. Every woman her own. That is what we say. That is how we fight. Most of the time that's good enough, but there is a reason the Empire has lasted so long. When men fight side-by-side the whole is greater than the sum of the parts."

Daenerys nodded. She absolutely agreed with his sentiment. That was how she had beaten Mir-Mul-Nir, and that was how she was training up her forces, but something didn't add up. "Wolves hunt in packs."

"Wolves, yes," agreed Kodlak. "Werewolves are loners by nature." He took a hefty swig of mead.

Once again the conversation lapsed, and it was up to her to keep it going. "So that means you are angry that I accepted Hircine's gift."

Kodlak frowned at that. "Not angry. Disappointed." He sighed. "And it isn't a gift. It's a curse. You knew that. You'll never go to Sovngarde now, and for what? You can become a beast that can never show its face. If you transform to fight, most of your followers will desert you. Some may even try to kill you."

"I don't believe it would be as bad as that." After all, none of her followers tried to kill Farkas. There were some mutters afterward, but he was accepted. Although most of her followers were soldiers that barely knew her now. They had flocked to the banner of the Dragonborn. She knew many would desert a werewolf. "Fighting a dragon as a werewolf was never my plan. There is more to the gift than just turning into the beast. I'm faster and stronger now. I have better senses and I recover faster. That just might make the difference between life and death the next time we face a dragon."

"And is slaying one dragon is worth Hircine claiming your soul?"

Lydia gasped behind Daenerys.

Daenerys stood up and turned to look behind her. "It's fine, Lydia. I went into that ceremony with my eyes open."

Lydia nodded, but her usual stoic expression wasn't quite so perfect. "Very well, my Thane. Your secrets are my secrets."

Daenerys turned back to Kodlak, but didn't sit down. As short as she was and as tall as Kodlak was even sitting down it didn't give her much of a height advantage. "Listen to me, Kodlak Whitemane, if it is not obvious from the comet in the skies the gods expect me to do something about the dragons. Nobody else is doing anything, and it's all on me. Do you think the Dragonguard will keep going if I die? The people following me, they're doing it because they believe I can lead them to victory. Do you think they would follow Fultheim? Sofija? Faralda? Will the Companions step up to the task? Will the jarls of Skyrim or the nobles of the Empire? You know how I fought Mir-Mul-Nir. Bait and Anvil, and I'm the bait. Some even think I'm the Last Dragonborn, and the one behind the dragons is Alduin. I need every edge I can get."

"And you turn to the daedra for that edge? What about that symbol you wear around your neck? I've heard about Grandfather, the priest of Talos. You chose Hircine over the gods?"

"I honor Talos. He saved me, but faith isn't enough for me. I will fight with every weapon I can grasp. I even pray to Talos sometimes, but I'm the one who will stand up and Shout at a dragon."

"And Sovngarde? You're not a huntress. Do you really want to spend your afterlife hunting and being hunted?"

Daenerys shrugged. "I'm not a Nord, Kodlak. The Hunting Grounds don't sound like a bad afterlife." Yes, it bothered her. The Hunting Grounds didn't sound like a particularly good afterlife, but she could do much worse. If the Nords were right that the daedra claimed the souls of the wicked, then the alternative she faced would be much worse. She had killed hundreds of thousands to make them submit. That meant the Daedric Prince with the strongest claim on her soul was probably Molag Bal. The Hunting Grounds sounded like paradise compared to Coldharbor. While she would never say it to Kodlak, she also wasn't really that impressed with what she had heard of Sovngarde. She didn't mind a little bit of celebration, but the Nords took it to extremes even in the life. She didn't want to spend her afterlife locked up in a never-ending party of drunk Nords feasting, boasting, and wenching.

However, a better afterlife wasn't the real reason. "Kodlak, I admire you. I will try to find a way for you to get to Sovngarde, but listen to me. If Hircine claiming my soul is the cost of victory, it is a price that I'll gladly pay."

Kodlak stared at her as if he finally understood the burden on her shoulders. "I suppose that I couldn't see beyond the Companions. I wanted Skjor to be the next Harbinger until he started falling to the wolf. Lately, I have been hoping that it would be you, and I wanted you to be the first in hundreds of years not to be in Hircine's grasp."

He wanted her to be the next Harbinger? "If you made me the Harbinger, I'd lead them all to fight dragons. I thought you didn't want that."

"I didn't. It isn't like the Companions have never fought dragons, but we are not the Blades or the Dragonguard. Maybe I was wrong, maybe if I had supported you more you wouldn't have felt the need to turn to Hircine. However, what's done is done." He stood up. "Go in peace, Daenerys Targaryen, may the gods watch over us all."

.oOo.

Daenerys met with her small council of Fultheim, Lydia, Sofija, Faralda and Camilla in the prow of Jorrvaskr. Lydia and Camilla were sitting on one of the beds. Fultheim sat at the table which held the map of their planned route. Sofija reclined against the door, still on guard even as she listened to her council. Daenerys at the other end of the table from Fultheim as they went over their plans to leave Whiterun.

In her opinion their departure was overdue, but the latest delays had been reasonable. Taking the time to loot Gallows Rock had been quite lucrative according to Camilla's report. Fultheim's request that the troops in training be given three days of liberty in Whiterun before they departed was something she should have thought of herself. They had trained hard and Fultheim had turned them into a force that would hopefully kill dragons, but soldiers couldn't just train and fight. They needed time to relax. She had no doubt most of them would blow their pay on mead and whores, but that was only to be expected. They weren't the Unsullied.

The meeting was mostly focused on last-minute details. Jon Battle-born had decided to join them, but he and Olfina Gray-mane had apparently not reconciled. One of her men had been arrested after a bar fight and Camilla got him released. A lot of the discussion was about the arrangements for the parade through the streets of Whiterun. As well as the feast that Jarl Balgruuf would be throwing them the night before.

Daenerys wasn't entirely happy about the parade or the feast. It gave the people of Whiterun the impression that Jarl Balgruuf was sponsoring the Dragonguard and Daenerys when his support had been minimal. However, she knew that it benefitted her as well. Marching her forces through the city would create an impression that would be carried by travelers throughout Skyrim. She was making it a point that Val and Ull would dress in Stormcloak armor while the Gaius Paulinus and his men would be wearing Imperial. She couldn't predict how that message would be received, but it was a powerful statement to make during this time of civil war.

When they finally wound down Daenerys stood up. "I have one more item to talk about tonight. It's something that came up when I was talking to Kodlak. In addition to the rogue wizards of Ilinalta's Deep and bandits camps that we plan to hit on our way to Ivarstad, we will almost certainly attract a dragon at some point. We have a lot more men than I had to fight Mirmulnir, and that's good. Our chances of killing the dragon are much better, but we're going to lose men. Fighting a dragon isn't safe. The ballistae, in particular, are a gamble. They could get lucky, but dragons are nimble flyers. I'm not saying that we won't win. I know we'll win, but there will be losses. We could even lose some of us in this room."

Fultheim scowled. "We all know that. You don't need to rub it in our faces."

"That's not where I was going. Ending the dragon attacks is important. The Dragonguard is important. No one is doing this job but us. If some of us die, the Dragonguard must continue. Right now three of the people in this room are almost indispensable. I am one of them. Fultheim is the second. Faralda is the third. I know this isn't a pleasant topic, but I want the Dragongard to go on even if all three of us fall, so we're going to plan for that here and now." She paused to give her council time to speak.

No one said a word. Daenerys took a moment to look at each of them in the eye. Camilla couldn't meet her gaze, but the others nodded grimly. "Fultheim, we'll start with you. I can give orders, but I can't train men as you can. Is there anyone in the Dragonguard who can?"

Fultheim nodded. "Aye, Gaius Paulinus. He is probably better at than me. That would mean giving an Imperial a position on your Council."

"We'll cross that bridge when needed for now start including him in your planning more, and let him know that he is your second. Is there anyone else other than him?"

"No, not in your forces. You'll want someone who has spent years as an officer in the Imperial army or someone similar."

Daenerys nodded. "I hope that it doesn't come to that. I feel good about the way we're positioning ourselves as neutral in the Stormcloak rebellion, but if it takes swearing to the Empire to end the dragon threat, then that's a price I'm willing to pay."

"Faralda, I already know we have nothing that can replace you, but your support is critical. I helped lure Mir-Mul-Nir in low, but you hurt him more than anyone else. We need a Master of Destruction or a battlemage. Two ballistae aren't enough. It would take a dozen at least. We need more mages, preferably ones skilled at Destruction. Maybe if we had a Tongue who could Shout that would close the gap."

"Which leaves me. I baited the dragon. I will do it again. I almost died, and if I do in the next fight, I want the Dragonguard to go on. To do that you will need Tongues who can Shout. Continue to High Hrothgar and meet with the Greybeards. Maybe you can get one of them to get off their asses and help. If not, I hope that some of us can learn to Shout. It has to mean something that Sofija can feel a Word pulse under her fingers at a Word Wall, that Ull can hear a faint chant, and that Faralda felt Yol. Make sure that you test Jon Battle-born as well. He had a knack for Dovahzul. Maybe that means something. I can hope."

"You'll also need a leader. Fultheim, you have made my forces into an army, but you aren't that leader."

Fultheim smiled. "You're right about that. I can deal with soldiers, but not all the other political bullshit. Not to mention the overall strategy, like this talk right here. Yeah, no one likes to talk about it, but planning for how to cope with losses, that's smart. That is one of the reasons you wear the boss pants."

"Honestly, I miss skirts and dresses." It was an attempt at Nord humor, to laugh in the face of death, but only Fultheim smiled. "Regardless, a leader has to be a symbol, someone who has done deeds that will inspire others. Sofija, Ēlī Vokēdrie, Dragonslayer, you are my second. If I fall in battle, it will be up to you to lead the Dragonguard."

Sofija lost her footing from where she was leaning on the door and almost slid down to the floor before she caught herself and stood. "Me? Surely, you're joking. I'm too young and inexperienced."

"Age has nothing to do with. I conquered my first city when I was younger than you." It had to be Sofija, she wasn't ideal, but only she had enough of a legend to pick up her mantel.

Sofija gaped at her. "Of course you did because you're the Dragonborn. You're chosen by the gods to save us all. I could never fill your shoes."

"You don't have to fill my shoes. Fill your own. Make your own legend, Dragonslayer. You're the only one who could command. Fultheim doesn't have the temperament. Nords would never follow an Altmer mage. You swore an oath to me. That vow is not released by my death. I chose you, Sofija. If I fall you will take up the gauntlet. You will continue until the dragon threat is no more. You will not be alone. I charge the rest of you to support her."

Fultheim nodded. "She's right, Sofija. If we support you, our troops would follow you if you pick up her banner. They would follow me to the nearest tavern. They wouldn't follow the rest of us at all."

Sofija bowed her head. "I'm not worthy. I'm not the Dragonborn. I never conquered a city as a child. The gods didn't put a sign in the sky for me. I'm a spellsword. I don't know how to lead like you do. You know things, but I'll try."

"I'll teach you, Sofija." She turned her gaze to her other housecarl. "Lydia, you'll watch over me while I'm sleeping going forward."

Lydia thumped her chest. "As you command my thane."

"Sofija, from today on you are my shadow. If I'm awake, you're awake. You watch and listen. Sometimes we'll talk. I'm not planning to die tomorrow, and I'm also not putting the weight entirely on your shoulders. I've been keeping too much to myself. It's time that I shared some of my plans with all of you in my small council. We need to talk about Tongues, and how I hope to find more. I've mentioned Riften, and I do hope to pick up an honest thief, if there is such a thing, to aid us in dungeons, but I'm more interested in seeking out the Dawnguard. They have crossbows, which is a weapon that I'm familiar with from my homeland. Slower to load than a bow, but it penetrates better – that makes it better against dragons. They might be able to help us improve our ballistae as well. I have many other plans that might work. We're going to talk about them as well. I've been foolish and kept too much to myself. That stops now. From now on I'm sharing all my plans with you, even the crazy ones."

"Crazier than trying to teach an elf to Shout?" asked Faralda.

Daenerys smiled. Gods bless, Faralda. "Some of them, yes, and it starts with Azura's Star and the multiple reasons that Ilinalta's Deep is our next target."

She began to explain how she had stumbled upon the Shrine of Azura and met Aranea Ienith, the High Priestess of Azura -who was also a highly skilled enchantress. That she had been charged to retrieve Azura's Star and would in return be named the Champion of Azura. In fact, according to Aranea that was already destined to happen. She went on to explain that might help her save Grandfather's soul, but she also hoped to recruit the high priestess and outfit all the Dragonguard with armor enchanted to resist fire. It was a large dream, but it could be done, and she intended to make it happen, but it was far from her only plan.