Hello everyone,
This is officially the last chapter of Eldest, isn't that weird? This story is moving much faster than my other but I honestly don't mind it. I love writing this story so much.
Anyway, as always, there is an authors note at the bottom.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
It took another hour before the last of the fighting, the killing stopped. I ordered nearly everyone that was capable to scour the battlefield for the wounded. They would be deposited at the healers tents where magic would be worked for a long time no doubt. The healers were told to use the soldiers own energy to heal their wounds and if they didn't have enough for a full recovery then they were to get them stable and they would heal the old fashioned way, at least until they recovered enough of their own strength to heal themselves in the next few days or weeks.
I stood on the hill overlooking the plains watching them work, wanting to be with them picking people up and helping but I am a leader now, I have to trust my subordinates.
"We estimate the numbers to be around thirty-thousand dead, sir." Jormundur said from behind me.
"Total?" I asked.
"No sir, the empires losses. We lost close to nine thousand between the four armies." He replied and internally I couldn't believe the one-sidedness. "And the legions lost the least, Orrin and the urgals suffered the most."
I nodded at his words and pried my eyes off the battlefield. I do no good just watching. I thought.
"Let's find Hrothgar." I told him.
"I know where he is." Jormundur spoke and so I followed him that direction, Brom following right behind me.
The more we walked and people took notice of me, the more I realized that the people didn't only mutter 'Stronghammer' as I walked passed, some of them even bowed. It took everything in my power to pull them up off of the ground and tell them that I am not a king.
Your legend is not yet large enough, young one. Shadowcat purred in my ear and I saw her pad up beside me, once again in her cat form.
It's scary how much I trust you in my mind. I thought as I noticed that I let her in without even thinking about it.
I received no response.
I spotted Hrothgar's tent before I spotted the first dwarf. The hammer embroidered on it gave it away.
Jormundur and Brom stepped aside as I approached the guards outside his tent, Shadowcat stayed close at my side.
No words were spoken as the guards raised their hands up for me to stop. I obliged and had both my dagger and hammer removed from my person before going in.
"Stronghammer." One of the guards called inside.
"Bring him in." Hrothgar's old voice barked from inside.
I entered to see Orik leaning against a pole watching his adopted father get stitches along his forearm, a small injury all things considered. I nodded to him and he returned the gesture.
I still haven't checked myself for any. I thought absentmindedly.
I gave a stiff bow of the head before addressing him. "King Hrothgar." I spoke simply.
His eyes had yet to rise to me, instead he seemed to be memorizing every line of his wound and soon to be scar.
"Another one to add to the collection, eh?" He said solemnly.
"Aye, we will have many more by the time this is all over." I answered wondering if I would live to see the end, I knew he was doing the same.
"Enough fretting over me, Orik, it is a small wound. You'll learn that it bleeds like mad the older you get." The old King told Orik and when he didn't move for a second he continued. "The men need to see you out there, helping. You know why."
I knew why also. Hrothgar has been grooming Orik to become King for a long, long time. Hrothgar was intentionally missing the clean up process so that Orik could forge a bond with the younger dwarves, and build his base of support.
It's sad that I recognize this nowadays. I thought as I watched the interaction for what it was.
Orik left promptly with a quick bow and a muttered. "My King." The last of the stitching was done at almost the exact same time and the healer too was dismissed.
"He will make a fine King." I told him as they both left.
"You seem to be doing a fine job, yourself." Hrothgar told me finally looking up and meeting my eyes.
The retort was quick on my tongue. "I am no.." I was cut off.
"A King is more than a title, Stronghammer." Hrothgar spoke before I could get out the last part and I couldn't help but agree with him. Wise old bastard.
"And I know one when I see one. I saw it the first time you graced my halls." He continued when I didn't answer.
I was still coming to terms with the fact that if we won, I would no doubt become King. "Did you already know it would play out like this?"
I felt foolish as soon as the question left my lips. Of course he did.
His barking laugh rang out in the tent. "I admit I knew it would come to a head, but so soon? No, I thought it would happen much longer after that. I forget how quick you humans work." He answered with a wink.
He sobered up for a second then. "There were two routes I thought young Nasuada would take. I hoped that her lust for power would be tempered with her achievement, but you were just too much." He finished with a meaty finger pointed at my chest.
"They forced my hand." I answered weakly, not even believing my own words.
"Don't lie to me! There were other options for you." He paused and I didn't answer, my jaw clenched knowing that he was right.
I thought my days of being undressed with words were over. Old bastard.
"That being said, you did the right thing. Even put Orrin in his place."
I didn't once question where he got all of this information from, I knew he must have spies everywhere.
"He will act soon." I said in response to him bringing up Orrin. "I'm tempted to let him take control, put me in my place."
"Your in the exact place you need to be in right now, Stronghammer. The fact that you realize Orrin will act against you soon, is the reason why he will not succeed." He stated matter of factly.
He stood up as I spoke again. "A part of me curses you for naming me that. A part of me praises you for the effects it has had."
"Aye, I imagine you do. You'll learn that it is the small things that change the world, young King. A few simple words from an old man changed the fate of the races, I can feel it. One of my better moments I will admit." Hrothgar agreed.
This guy is like a Dumbledore. I thought reflecting on the conversation and how he has led it.
"I would hate to see you and Islanzadi in the same room." I said without thinking.
His laugh wasn't a bark this time, more booming than anything. "Only happened twice, lad. And would you believe if I told you that we quit the tricks and speak plainly? As only two old rulers can? It's refreshing."
I laughed then, and in doing so, realized that I couldn't remember when I had actually had a good laugh. That sobered me up.
"Well…" I said finally coming to what I wanted to say to him. "...I came to say thank you, for everything." I finished thinking of my hammer, Fram, and his support in the battle.
"Oh you won't thank me when it's all over. I promise you."
"Sir! There is something you'll want to see."
I looked up from the parchment I have been writing on for the past few minutes. The same centurion that I always seemed to run into was standing in the entrance of my tent.
They're supposed to be on march. I thought taking in the sight of him. The sun had barely started to peek through the clouds it was so early.
There was blood on his hands, and his clothes, the scent permeated the tent now that he stood before me.
I stood up and sheathed my dagger on my lower back. I grabbed Fram as I walked forward and nodded to the centurion to lead on.
We began walking at a brisk pace. "What happened?" I asked knowing that there wasn't an attack on the camp last night.
"The boys were feasting after a well fought battle. I fed them like you told us to, we ate well and drank even better. I got up this morning and ...well I have an urgal with a spear through his thigh and a soldier with a dislocated shoulder and a few cracked ribs." He spoke like he didn't really know the true story. "I haven't gotten a story out of anyone yet."
"Fuck." I spoke as my mind raced a mile a minute.
A drunken brawl. I thought to myself about the most likely outcome.
The scene I stumbled on was a gruesome one. The fight must have happened no more than an hour ago because the urgal was still bleeding from his thigh although it had been patched up. The soldier looked to have his shoulder relocated already but he was favoring his ribs.
The man looked to be a veteran of war, he looked to be about thirty and was six foot three inches tall, rare for this world. He was a burly man also, a beard longer than my own fell on his barrel chest.
No wonder he isn't dead. I thought looking at his physique.
I didn't need to be told what happened because I didn't care, the punishment was already decided.
I looked up to see Nar Garzhvog making his way through the crowd just as I came upon the scene.
My presence was noted by everyone and the crowd hushed to see my reaction. They were disappointed because my face betrayed nothing.
I walked over to the urgal, who was fairly small for his race and he bared his teeth at me. I lifted my chin up, showing him my neck and I pointed at his wound.
He looked at me and then finally lifted his head up also, showing me his neck. I closed the distance between us and and my mind reached out to my necklace and into the power within. My diagnostic spell came quickly.
I thought we would differ more. My mind supplied as I reacted to the diagnostic spell.
My mouth whispered the healing spell and my mind guided my magic as I knit the wound back together. I left a scar, because I knew the urgals would want to keep them as a sign of honor. I walked over to my soldier without a word.
"Tell me." I said simply.
His eyes met mine, definitely. "I won't fight beside those beasts." He bowed his chest out to mine as he said the words.
Two soldiers from behind him moved to discipline him.
'Crack'
The sound rang out across the crowd and the back of my hand stung. The soldiers stopped at my look.
The expression on my face never changed while he recoiled from the blow and stumbled about.
"On your knees." I commanded with a strong tone. My anger was palpable at this point.
I was starting to get extremely aggravated. I don't need this shit right now.
He obeyed me and sank to his knees with his eyes lowered. I wasn't sure if it was because he was dazed at the blow, or if he was cowed by my presence.
Most likely the blow. I thought. Not everyday you get smacked by an enhanced human.
I turned my back to him and walked to Nar Garzhvog. "The punishment for disobeying his commanding officer is lashes. Fifty. Is this acceptable?" I asked him and the urgal beside him.
Garzhvog's gravelly voice rang out. "Ours is the same. Fifty for both." He said looking to the urgal beside him who also lowered his eyes but strained with his eyes to the heavens and baring his neck for his chief.
"Good. I will carry out the punishment." I told him as I turned around and yelled out. "Ropes, and a whip!"
Garzhvog yelled out something in urgal which I assumed was the same command. I was wrong because as soon as the words were spoken, the whole urgal crowd, which was getting quite large at this point, roared. The urgal who got in the fight dropped to his knees immediately and his arms rose even with his head, with his palms out. He was still as a statue.
"No ropes." I yelled again and then addressed the soldier. "Kneel beside him, palms up, just like him."
He looked at me and was about to speak before two more soldiers forced him to obey the command.
"You will not move, do you understand. This is your punishment, you will endure fifty, without moving, just like him." I knew it was an impossible task, he would pass out before he accomplished it.
He nodded as he faced away from him, whether out of pride or fear, I don't know.
Suddenly Vanir was at my side and I turned to retrieve the whip out of his hands. As I looked to him I noticed that the crowd was so large at this point that it was impossible for this to stay quiet.
I wasted no time and my first blow met its mark, leaving a red gash across his back. He didn't make a sound, and I praised him in my mind for it.
"One!"
Another crack sounded to my left as Garzhvog's whip met its mark.
I was so angry. I kept enough piece of mind to not put all of my weight into the blows, as I would kill him before I reached thirty, but each blow broke skin. I did not think about the fact that I had never swung a whip in my life, nor did I recognize that I didn't miss a single blow.
He started grunting at five blows, by the fifteenth he was yelling, and by twenty-five he was openly weeping. He passed out at thirty, like I predicted.
I looked around to the crowd and realized that no one had uttered a single word around me since we started, but all of the Varden's eyes were on us.
Garzhvog paused, looking towards me. I had a single moment of clarity of what I needed to do as I saw the face of Hrothgar in the front of the crowd. Orrin stood beside me, watching with a passive face.
"Get him up." I told two soldiers beside me.
They did as I asked and I whispered a single word of power. "Wake."
His eyes darted open and a groan left his body. "Since you are not man enough to carry out your sentence, SOMEONE MUST!"
I turned around from him and let the spell drop, I expected him to pass out but he kept his eyes open. I walked up to Nar Garzhvog and handed him the whip in my hands.
With both of my hands free, I gripped the front of my shirt and suddenly my torso was naked as I ripped it off and threw it to the ground.
"Twenty, Nar Garzhvog, for my subordinate. Another twenty for my role in allowing this to happen."
Murmurs finally rang out throughout the crowd.
I turned back to the soldier. "Keep him awake, and don't let him die. I want him to see how a man takes responsibility."
Vanir walked up behind him and he spoke words of power, the man's eyes focused immediately.
I found my place beside the urgal and dropped to my knees, his eyes darted my way but his body didn't move. My hands rose and I adopted the same pose as him.
The first blow struck and I was amazed at how much it didn't hurt. I was too lost in my thoughts, in my rage, to notice the second, or the third.
"Forty. Ten." Someone rang out from the crowd and I still didn't feel the pain.
My anger and righteousness didn't allow anything to stray me from the path that I had taken, so when twenty struck and the blood gushed down my back, I still didn't cry out.
The urgal beside me stood up and yelled a triumphant cry to the heavens because of his victory. The crowd of urgals and even some humans met his cry with their own.
Twenty-five, and the pain kicked in, it was blinding. I refused to move.
Thirty and my eyes started to water, still I didn't waver.
It was so tempting to reach out to my necklace and pull upon the power inside to deaden the pain, but I preserved.
My rage died when I felt the last lash strike. "Forty!"
I stood up immediately and almost passed out on the spot. I closed my eyes and looked up, getting my bearings before I turned around and looked at the crowd. I couldn't tell if it was horror or respect that graced their face.
I'm not done yet. I told myself as I noticed the faces.
Hrothgar stepped forward and looked towards the crowd.
"Stronghammer!"
The crowd met his chants. Over and over, they yelled 'Stronghammer'.
I barely noticed because I was locking eyes with the soldier that cause all of this.
I walked over to him, being held up by his brothers in arms. I grabbed his good arm, bent down and put him over my shoulder.
It was the heaviest thing I ever had to carry, but I was prepared for the weight. He grunted in pain because of his ribs and I heard my voice tell him 'deal with it'.
I started to walk towards the direction of the healers tents, and for the first time I thought that the deed might kill me. I could still feel the blood running down my back and I knew that I must have lost a tremendous amount.
I caved, I reached into the power in my necklace and grabbed it, refueling my body. It didn't have as good of an impact as I thought it would.
With each step, I took more power. Later I would realize that I did not take a lot, in total, maybe a days worth of energy.
The crowd parted as I put my feet in front of one another and carried the disobedient soldier to the healers.
No one stepped forward to help me, I think everyone understood that it was something I had to do, I wanted to do.
A roar so loud it shook the tents around me sang out and broke me from my thoughts. I looked to my left and found the source.
Saphira.
"Stronghammer! ….Stronghammer! ...Stronghammer!"
Each chant was said with the collective voices of the Varden, cheering me on. I drew strength from it.
The farther I walked, the more the crowd parted for me, and I wondered how long until I would pass up all of the people. I never passed the crowd, it was so large.
And then suddenly I made it.
Hands grabbed the body over my shoulder and lifted it down and onto a cot outside the tent, where the rest of the wounded lay.
Is that pine? I thought as I inhaled the scent around me.
"..oran!"
"You mad bastard!" I heard from behind me but I didn't turn.
"Roran!"
Arya's face was in front of mine, and my hand was on her shoulder, supporting myself. Her hand grabbed the other side of my hip and pulled me up to help me walk.
Next thing I knew I was entering into a tent and collapsing face first into a bed.
Darkness consumed me.
My eyes opened, and I immediately shut them. It was daylight outside and it was spilling in through the cracks in the tent.
"You did it again." A meliodas voice sounded out from beside me.
I moved my arms underneath me to push myself up. It was a mistake.
I groaned as lanced of pain ran across the whole of my back and sat myself back down.
"What is that?" I asked turning my head to face Arya.
So that is why I smell pine. I thought as I noticed her beautiful face and puffy? eyes.
"Stronghammer ...Stronghammer…" She whispered mimicking a crowd. I felt a warm mass move between my legs.
Shadowcat. I told myself. She loves laying there.
"Oh, that." I mumbled. "Wasn't intentional, I promise."
"Never is." She replied quickly.
I decided to ask since I didn't trust myself to reach out with magic and find out myself. "How bad is it?"
"Your back is a mass of flesh, worse than even the other soldier. Garzhvog doesn't know how to pull a punch." The last bit she said with a bit of steel in her voice.
I laughed then but didn't respond.
"Had you passed out during the lashes, and not carried out your own sentence, Garzhvog would have every right to take your life, as is their custom! I'm sure you didn't know that when you dropped down to your knees!" She hissed out, not laughing at all.
She's really angry now. I realized. She couldn't meet my eyes.
"Had I been there and not the healers tent, I would have stopped it. Men!" She continued and I didn't interrupt, knowing it wouldn't help.
She paused for a moment and I saw a tear slide down her face. I looked away quickly, not wanting to see her pain. What started as a humorous conversation, turned into an emotional one.
"Look at me!" She actually shouted then.
I did as she asked and met her emerald green eyes.
"Never again!"
I nodded my head. "I don't think I will be forced to again." I answered her.
She broke eye contact and wiped her tear off of her face. "Good, because if you do manage to survive another session of that ...I'll kill you."
I laughed and she half laughed, half sobbed.
"Where am I?"
"In my tent." She answered. "Consider yourself lucky." She told me with a smile on her face.
I raised my eyebrow. "Why?"
"You're the first man I've ever let in my bed."
Our laughter echoed across the tent then at the joke. I absentmindedly wondered if that was true or if it was truly a joke. I, wisely, did not ask that question.
Once we stopped laughing she spoke again. "Good, now that you have heard what it is I have to say. Slytha."
Darkness enveloped me once again.
A/N: Roran has a knack for this stuff doesn't he?
Little bit of filler after the battle but I enjoyed it. And this all serves a purpose I promise.
Did we like it? What about the interaction between Roran and Hrothgar? Roran and Arya? What about the whipping?
Let's talk in the reviews!