Chapter 79
Journey through Jerall
She'd begged and pleaded to the gods to take the curse from her for so long. But not like this. She definitely wasn't the Dragonborn without her voice, but she wasn't herself either. How could she ever sing again? Being able to sing was one of the greatest joys in her life and now it was gone.
She couldn't even use her magic anymore. Some could summon it through sheer willpower, but she'd always needed the incantations and the words to bring it forth. Rona relied so much on her voice, she never realized how much until it was gone.
She couldn't even tell Bishop how sorry she was or tell him how much she loved him anymore. He'd left, looking like he just couldn't take it anymore. She worried for him, she wanted to go to him, but knew better. She had to stay put, she'd promised herself, she'd swore she wouldn't move for once in her life.
Even when her father came in, seeing her awake and when he broke down, bursting into tears and started pacing swiftly back and forth while rambling and yelling she wouldn't leave. She'd never seen him so upset in her life.
"Why Rona? Why did you do it!? Why must you keep doing this!? I cannot cope with this anymore. I always hold my tongue. Always. But It's too much. I thought I'd die of grief - seeing you like that. Do you understand now!? What your actions are doing!? Do you see!? Do you care!? I've already lost the most important woman in my life once before but to nearly lose you," his words and his tears were swift and sharp. She cried too, watching him like that. She took the tongue lashing, she deserved it. Every word. He was right.
He went on and on, with Aela and Illia right there too, both of them looking stunned, unable to bring themselves to try and stop him. He was so angry, hurt and upset.
"I love you Rona, more than you can ever understand! You will never know until you have a child how painful it is to see them hurt like that - and I pray to the gods that you never experience what I experienced last night! It is agonizing! Do you understand!? That man took you! We tried so damned hard to protect you! I did everything to prevent it! And you just ran off alone like none of it mattered!" He roared, fists clenched, body trembling. And then he paused looking over her face and shook his head, choking out, "Doyou have nothing to say for yourself!?"
She swallowed hard and averted her gaze. She opened her mouth, she tried to speak, I'm sorry, Ata. But the words would not come.
Illia stood up and said softly, "Serlas."
He glared at the woman daring her to challenge him. She put a gentle hand out and said, "Rona's lost her voice."
His face crumbled completely and he looked back down at her. She couldn't bear to look at him though as her tears came swift and steady. She wanted to crawl inside herself, but settled for crawling under the covers instead. She quietly lay her face into a pillow and shut her eyes, willing it all to go away.
She heard her father utter a single word, "I..." and then he left, sweeping out of the room.
Aela looked over sadly at Rona, tears sparkling in her own eyes and she tried to comfort her, "Hey. It's going to be okay. Just give it a day, I'm sure your voice will come back in no time."
Rona sniffled and closed her eyes. Go away. Leave me alone.
They did leave her alone then and she forced herself to sleep. It wasn't hard either. She felt exhausted and sadder than she'd ever felt in her life.
Two days went by and Rona just laid in bed, hardly eating or interacting with anyone. Bishop made the effort to coax her to eat something, but she'd just take two bites and push it away before laying back down, turning her back to him and ignoring him.
Malborn arrived on the second day. Serlas had written him a week before, informing him they'd be leaving for Cyrodiil soon and he came along as anxious as ever, looking to go already. When Serlas told him their journey would be delayed another week it only made him more distressed and he demanded they make good on their promise. Naturally, Serlas ripped him a new one telling him his daughter had nearly just died and they were not leaving until she recovered, leaving the poor bosmer feeling like an idiot and an ass.
The others stayed on the farm too, keeping Bishop company at least. He tried to stay in high spirits for Rona's sake. He'd gotten all his anguish out when he realized she couldn't speak. He walked along the lake for some time before literally walking right into it, clothes still on and everything. He stood in the center of it and just roared at the skies telling Akatosh to go fuck himself quite a few times and started slamming his hands onto the water and splashing around like a maniac.
As Farkas and Freya walked by and saw him like that, Farkas assumed he was drowning and went out to rescue him, picking him right up out of the water while he continued to flail about and roar nonsensically until Freya managed to calm him down.
Karnwyr stayed close to Rona, often sleeping on her bed with her. In fact, she seemed to prefer his company. He was the only living thing she allowed to touch her. She still recoiled at everyone else and none of them forced it, especially when Freya insisted that they give her, her space.
By the fourth day Bishop went in to check on her while everyone ate lunch. She was in the same spot, staring at the wall, away from the door. He sat down in the chair by the bed and said, "You should try walking. Stretch your legs a little."
Silence.
Bishop sighed and said, "Come on Ladyship. You have to do something. You can't just lay in bed forever and keep being miserable."
She continued to ignore him and he twisted his face in frustration. Then Aela came in and said, "Hey, you should come down to the lake and bathe with us."
Rona glanced back then and Aela held up some soaps and hair tonics, "What do you say girl? Wash all the grime out of your hair? The boys won't be around, we're sending them off to have a drink at the tavern in Falkreath. You know, so this one doesn't come along to snoop on us!"
She prodded Bishop in the arm and he just rolled his eyes at her and turned back to Rona and said, "How's that sound Ladyship? No men around? Just you and the girls?"
She sat up then and nodded. She had been feeling pretty dirty the last four days and never managed to get around to bathing herself, feeling too depressed over the loss of her voice to do anything at all.
Aela said, "Great! Alright, you head out with the men then Bishop and we'll have a girl's day out." Aela smiled brightly at Rona and left the room. Bishop collected a towel and a white under dress from a drawer putting them on the dresser for her. He made to leave when Rona reached over, grabbing a piece of parchment from a pile they'd left her, if she wanted to try and communicate. She took a quill and scribbled a quick note and held it out for him.
He took it and looked it over. He looked like he might cry then and swallowed hard choking out, "I love you too, Rona. I'll wait for you, no matter how long it takes. I just want you to know that."
Then he left her, closing the door behind him. She threw her feet over the bed, nearly kicking Karnwyr who was sleeping on the floor nearby. He looked up at her and gave a low whine and she smiled at him. She tried to stand and wobbled a bit, holding onto the chair for support.
Once she got up though she felt alright. Her side still hurt a lot though and she wanted to look at it. She hadn't seen herself at all in four days while she recovered, so she stripped down naked and tentatively approached the floor length mirror in the corner. She knit her brows together looking at herself. She hardly recognized the woman who looked back.
She was still very dirty. Her hair was a tangled mess and had dirt and even some twigs and leaves stuck in it. Her eyes looked swollen and tired from days of crying herself to sleep. But it as the enormous, jagged white scar in her side which stood out the most to her. It was awful and ugly. It curved towards her naval and was still a bit inflamed looking. That was where he'd stabbed her, repeatedly, healing it and then burying the knife in again and again, tearing her flesh wide open.
Magic could do many things, but heal scars was not one of them. She would have that monster of a scar for the rest of her life, she would have to look at it every time she saw herself naked. And if she could ever bring herself to let Bishop touch her again, he too would have to see it, in all its horrific detail. A constant and painful reminder of what happened to her. She felt hideous and ashamed.
Even the scars on her face were nothing compared to the way she felt about this. She recalled her first time up on High Hrothgar when the frost troll had given her three vicious slashes across her cheek and how Bishop so carefully and gently tended to the wound. He had checked it every day when they arrived there to make sure it wasn't infected.
On the fourth day she stood in their makeshift kitchen, holding a silver platter up to see her reflection since the Greybeards lacked any sort of mirror in the place, with Arngeir mumbling something about pridefulness and vanity when she'd asked for one. So she started rummaging around the kitchen for something shiny enough to see herself in. She peeled the bandages back and got a good look at her distorted reflection in the platter.
Rona didn't want to admit it then, but she was a bit upset by the fact that she had three sharp strikes permanently etched below her left eye. She wasn't vain by any sense of the word, but she knew she was pretty and it hurt a bit seeing the face she'd known for so long somewhat disfigured.
Bishop had come in and cocked a brow at her as he walked by, grabbing a bottle of mead and a piece of hard bread. "Getting a good look at your battle scars?" he'd teased her then.
She pouted slightly and mumbled, "Is it ugly?"
He chuckled, "Ugly? You?"
She nodded feebly.
Then he'd stepped over to her, tipped her face up with a hand on her chin and said with genuine honesty, "Rona, you could never be ugly."
She knew Bishop, wouldn't care. He had so many scars himself, all painful reminders of his own sordid past, he even had whip lashes and that long sword slash on his back. All scars that Thorn had given him too.
She touched the jagged scar on her left side, tracing it across her hip and up where it stopped short on her abdomen, pointing at her naval. She looked hatefully at it and then leaned closer to the mirror, looking over the right side of her neck where Thorn had bitten her, not once but twice. Very light looking, white scarred, teeth impressions showed in two separate spots there. Just more reminders... at least with the scar in her side she could cover it up, but those, she'd always see unless she wore something around her neck.
She sighed silently and turned away from her reflection, then grabbed the white under dress and pulled it on and put the towel under her arm. She stepped into the living area with Karnwyr following close by her. Illia was sitting at the table drinking some tea and reading a book. She looked up and smiled kindly at Rona, "The girls are already down at the lake if you want to meet them there."
Rona nodded feebly and quickly left the cottage making her way down to the shore. She saw Aela, Freya and Bast all soaking in the water already washing up. They were chatting lightly and sounded happy. She couldn't believe how easy it was to forget what it felt like to be happy. In fact, it was right in that spot she stood in where any and all happiness she had was torn away from her so abruptly.
But she wasn't afraid to stand there and neither was Karnwyr as he immediately waded into the water and started paddling over to Bast who was clicking for him and saying, "Karnwyr! C'mere! Yeah, c'mere boy," she started petting him all over as he dog paddled around with his tongue lolling out. Rona actually smiled a little. He was such a good companion to her over the last four days. She didn't know what she'd have done with herself without him. When she needed someone to cuddle and hold onto Karnwyr let her and she loved him all the more for it.
She noticed that Bast was wearing her bra and panties still, while Freya kept on a white under shirt. Aela didn't give a damn though, swimming around totally nude. She noticed that even Aela had plenty of battle scars of her own and she didn't mind sharing them with the world.
Aela waved at her and said, "Come on in girl! The water's not even that cold!"
"If you're a nord," Bast scoffed.
Freya laughed, "Well you're half a nord and you're doing just fine I'd say."
"It was still cold getting in though," Bast argued.
Freya looked over and said, "You're half nord too right, Rona? So you should be fine."
The woman actually smiled at her and she didn't know what to think about that. Rona decided to keep her under dress on though and waded into the water while the dress ballooned stupidly around her as the air got trapped in it. Bast laughed a little and said, "Maybe just take it off."
Rona shook her head quickly and forced the dress under the water.
Aela swam over and gave her a bar of soap and pointed back at the shore, "Hair tonics are over there, take your pick."
Rona just nodded her head in thanks and Bast asked her, "Have you tried talking again? Maybe your voice is back."
Freya frowned and splashed her little sister, "You can be so rude sometimes!"
"Me!?" Bast barked incredulously at her, "Have you ever met yourself!?"
Rona made to laugh, but there was no sound and she sulked a little. Bast noticed and said, "Sorry."
Rona just shrugged her shoulders and started to wash herself while the other three talked about what they were going to do about returning to Whiterun.
"We left Athis with the pups," Aela said, "I'm not sure how long he'll be able to hold out for."
"You don't think the Stormcloaks would go in and arrest him when he didn't attack them, do you?" Freya wondered.
"I don't know," Aela said, "I hope not. But I suppose Tilma could look after Blaise and Lucia in the meantime."
"What's gonna happen when Qetesh and the others get back?" Bast asked.
Aela scowled down at the water, "Good point... we have to get this resolved quickly. Not sure when to expect them all back."
Rona looked on at them all curiously, wanting to ask what had happened, but without her voice she could only quietly speculate.
When they'd all finished washing up, they sat on the shore of the lake just sunbathing. It was kind of nice, Rona thought. It reminded her of spending time with her old girlfriends and she really wanted to go see them all. Now that she was up and walking she hoped they would leave soon.
Bast got up and called to Karnwyr, taking him off to go play around the wooded area while she climbed trees. Aela nodded off, still totally nude by the lakeshore leaving just Rona and Freya sitting by one another to stare off at the lake and watch how it sparkled as the sunlight touched the ripples.
Freya asked her, "How you doing? After all that?"
Rona just shrugged and shifted her hand back and forth to say, okay.
Freya chuckled and said, "Doing a lot better than I did after... well you know."
Silence. Awkward silence no less because Rona couldn't even say anything.
Freya cleared her throat and said, "Have you looked at it?"
Rona took a breath and exhaled noisily, as noisily as one could without words.
"That bad?" Freya said looking at her, brows knit together. Rona met her gaze and just nodded. Then Freya said, "Want to see mine?"
Rona blushed a little pressing her lips together and Freya laughed, "I'm just saying, it might help you to know you're not alone. I mean, not the only one who's got some nasty scars from... him."
Rona looked over at her and nodded, as if to say, show me.
Freya said, "Prepare yourself, it's not pretty," she lifted her shirt up, revealing her bare breasts underneath. Rona got a good view of three awful jagged white scars that looked horrifically like the one on her hip. In fact, Freya had one on her hip just like hers.
She looked on morosely at them and then Freya put her shirt back down and said, "So... let me guess. He started in your hip right?"
Rona nodded slowly.
"Yeah, that was his thing. Get them in the hip, then move up the chest. Dig it into the breast and bury it in the collarbone. Gods he was such a sick fuck," she snarled angrily and shook her head, then looked back at Rona and said, "You really roasted him alive? Like with your shout right?"
Rona furrowed her own brows and nodded firmly.
Freya grinned at her, "Good. That fucker deserved it. I hope it hurt him... Bishop said he stabbed him fifty times and then cut his head right off too."
Rona shrugged. She couldn't remember anything that happened after she shouted at that twisted freak because right after she did all she heard was his and the others agonized screams and Bishop's furious snarling before everything faded out completely and she woke up again in her own bed with Illia pouring potion down her throat and her father desperately trying to revive her.
Freya leaned back on her arms and said, "I'm glad for it. We don't have to leave Skyrim anymore. They're all gone," she glanced at Rona, "I guess I owe you a lot of thanks for that. I mean, you've given us our lives back and now our freedom. I haven't slept so soundly in the last six years than I did the night Bishop told me he was dead."
Rona wished she could say the same. Her nightmares had been plaguing her again, only this time it was a constant return to that awful place with that awful man.
Freya seemed to glean that much from the look on her face when she said, "They'll fade in time. The memories. Even the scars will start to fade. You're gonna be alright. You're one tiny woman but damn, you're tough as nails girl," Rona looked at her, smirking and cocking a brow and Freya chuckled, "No seriously. When I saw you fight that dragon out in Rorikstead. Gods... I'd never seen anything like it. You'll get through this."
The women spent their day out by the lake before returning to the cottage around sundown. When Rona went in she was surprised to find Illia with a bunch of sewing materials and a huge swath of red fabric. She smiled at her, motioning her to come over.
"Unfortunately we couldn't salvage your dress," she said, "so I stopped by Falkreath and picked up some fabric, leather and other materials so we could make you a new one! I even enchanted the fabric to make it fire and ice resistant." Illia smiled at Rona as she stepped over and looked at the pretty red fabric. She'd originally gotten her dress in the Imperial city ages ago, it had been her favorite piece of clothing for so long, light with strong resistant material and very easy to move in.
Rona ran her fingers across the new fabric, it felt nearly the same as the old stuff, just less worn. And being resistant to fire and ice was absolutely ideal considering nearly every dragon she met had fire, ice or both.
Illia said, "I'm pretty good at sewing, so what do you say we work on this together and get you fitted for a whole new dress?"
Rona smiled and nodded fervently. It felt good to do something again, even if it was just sewing. Aela and Freya went to work on making dinner while Bast laid on her stomach by the fireplace making faces at Karnwyr and scratched him on the head. Rona and Illia started measuring out fabric, cutting and pulling it all together, doing their best to match it to her old one, which lay draped over a chair, tattered and ruined.
It really was a nice evening and exactly what she'd needed to come out of her depression. She especially found herself missing Bishop and was looking forward to seeing him that evening.
The four men sat at a large table at the Dead Man's Drink in Falkreath. They were playing a game of dice to pass the time. Both Bishop and Serlas were hitting the bottle pretty heavily too while Malborn remained steadfastly sober and got restless every time someone new walked into the tavern.
After the fourth time someone came in and Malborn jumped knocking a drink over, Bishop kicked him and growled, "Would you stop that!? You're making me anxious."
"I... I think I'm going to rent a room and just lay down for a bit," Malborn said finally, getting up and leaving his money and cards on the table.
Bishop rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah, don't forget to barricade the door too while you're at it. Fucking lunatic."
"Malborn is right to be paranoid," Serlas said, "The Thalmor are very meticulous and no matter how lowly they might deem someone, if you cross them they will do everything in their power to destroy you."
"Yeah," Bishop's lip curled as he stared at his shitty hand, "I know."
More silence. Bishop was so tired of the quiet. He wanted noise. He wanted to hear people talking. No, that wasn't right. He couldn't care less about what anyone else had to say. He wanted to hear Rona's voice, he wanted to hear it more than anything in his life. He'd have given his own voice just for hers to be returned. He hardly needed his. He knew how to express himself just fine without it. But would she ever let him express himself to her again? She wouldn't even let him touch her and he hadn't tried since he held her hand that night four days before. She hadn't reached out for him either. It was starting to feel painfully lonely without her touch.
She'd actually gotten up when Aela talked to her. He'd been wondering for days if she was angry with him because she wouldn't even look at him. He couldn't stop blaming himself for it and wanted to know so badly if she did too. But then she wrote him that note before he left earlier. The first words she'd given to him since the day it all happened.
I love you. I'm sorry.
Why was she apologizing? Because she blamed herself. Of course she would. That's just how she was. Not only was she carrying the burden of the world on her shoulders, but she would always take the blame for everything and keep blaming herself until it tore her apart.
Finally Farkas said, "She still hasn't talked?"
"Nope," Bishop said shortly.
"Shame," Farkas said, folding his hand and taking a sip of his mead, "She had a pretty voice."
Bishop just felt annoyed, but then Serlas said almost mindlessly, "A beautiful voice..."
Bishop had noticed that the elf had been very withdrawn the last four days. He'd wanted to ask what was eating him, but Aela had already told him how Serlas lost it and admonished Rona for everything only to ask her what she had to say for herself and then to find out she had no voice, he could only imagine Serlas was beating himself up for that one.
"Maybe try singing to her," Farkas said to Bishop, taking another sip of his mead.
Bishop furrowed his brows and scoffed, "What?"
"Well, she can't sing, but she can still play music, right? Bet she'd like it if you sang to her."
Bishop snorted a laugh and said, "You really are an ice brain. I'm not a bard. Like I could sing."
"Doesn't have to be good," Farkas said, "Bet she wouldn't care if it sounded like two sabre cats howling in the night. She'd just be happy you tried."
Bishop twisted his lips and thought about it. He had sang to her once before, the first night they'd ever slept together. It was a night of first's really and definitely his most cherished memory with her. It had been sad recalling how he felt, singing to Jules when he was little, but to let it out to her, without being judged, without anything but affection from her. It was just the beginning of his healing. And now he had to heal her.
He would try. He doubted it would be any good, but she seemed to like his voice well enough before.
"Yeah," Bishop said, "I might try that. I'm also going to fold this shit hand of mine."
Serlas smirked a little and swiped their cards back up, shuffling them before dealing them out again.
They were nearly finished with the dress and Rona was eager to wear it. Illia had been so thorough with every single stitch and made her try it on multiple times while putting it together to make sure the fit was perfect.
She finished up with the last few stitches on the sleeve and held it up smiling, "Go ahead, see how it fits."
Rona grabbed it and ran back into her room, closing the door over and changed out of the white under dress, and then yanked the new dress on and smoothed out the creases in it. She looked at herself in the full length mirror and smiled. She actually recognized herself. She looked like herself again and spun in a circle, letting her dress rise. She wanted to go out and explore a ruin or a cave or something just to break it in but settled on taking a walk with Karnwyr outside instead.
With no more bandits around it seemed safe enough to go out on her own, but she made sure to stay close to the farm. She did notice Bast following behind a ways and when Rona finally settled on a little hill, overlooking the lake, Bast went and climbed up a tree nearby. She pet on Karnwyr and laid back in the grass, looking up at the stars. It was peaceful and nice. She felt ready to leave though, getting those itchy, antsy feelings again and trying her damndest to stifle them.
She laid there for a long time before she heard Bishop, "Hey kid, she around?"
Bast pointed over the hill and Bishop came walking up to her. She stayed laying down and looked up at him as he stood over her. She smiled up at him and he smiled back, "I see you're feeling better. Looking great too," he chuckled, "Nice dress."
He sat down in the grass next to her, making sure to keep the space between them. She appreciated his respect for that because she still wasn't quite ready for human contact.
"So if you're feeling well enough, we're thinking of leaving tomorrow. How's that sound?"
She sat right up and nodded very quickly. He laughed and said, "Well alright. Start a new journey in the morning. I won't lie, I've been itching to get on the move again too. Get the hell out of Skyrim for a while. That'll be nice."
They were quiet for a bit then. Rona could sense Bishop's desire to hold her. She wanted it too but didn't want to recoil in his arms either. She'd spent hours being forcibly touched by some awful man and still couldn't find a way to scrub her brain of that memory. She was afraid Bishop's touch would feel like that somehow and she didn't want to associate the two in any shape or form.
He sighed loudly then and looked over at her, "I've been dying to know what's going on in your head these last few days Lightfoot. Wish you could talk. It's killing me not hearing your voice."
She looked on sadly at him and nodded in understanding. She opened her mouth again, trying to speak but once more nothing came out.
"Illia thinks it's shock. That the trauma just... took it away. I'm sure it will come back," he said, sounding very unsure.
She shrugged and started to pick at the grass. She didn't want to talk about the loss of her voice. It was the only thing she'd thought about the last four days. Maybe if she stopped thinking about it, it would come back. She stuck a hand in her pocket and pulled out some parchment and a quill. She started to scribble a note on it and passed it to him.
Please, talk about something else.
He smirked and ran a hand through his hair, "Sorry. It's just been heavy on our minds," he cleared his throat and said, "Alright. So when we get to Cyrodiil, what's the first thing you want to do?"
He passed the paper back and she scribbled on it.
Go out drinking with everyone!
He smiled, "Yeah, you got some good taverns in Cheydinhal?"
Okay ones in Cheydinhal. Best ones in Imperial City! Expensive but fun!
"We could dance," he suggested, "Get piss-ass drunk and dance like a couple of idiots."
Dance until my feet fall off! She made to laugh.
They went back and forth like that. Having a slow and quiet conversation, him speaking and her writing, even flirting and poking fun at each other. It was pleasant, but wasn't quite the same without her voice. And as they finally stood, getting ready to turn in for the night he looked down at her, nervously putting a hand to his neck and asked, "Can I... just a hug?"
Her face fell and she scribbled another note.
I still need more time.
He looked like a boy who just confessed to a girl he liked and got rejected. He tried to hide it and said, "I understand. I'll wait Ladyship. However long it takes."
The next morning they were all getting ready to leave. Aela had just gotten a letter from Athis, who had apparently managed to get Vignar to call the guard off of them due to 'extenuating circumstances'. It seemed that Ulfric was too busy pushing for Markarth to take much of an interest in the state of Whiterun, leaving it to Vignar to sort out.
They knew their return would be met with more hatred from the Stormcloaks but Aela just rolled with the punches, every time. Illia was sad to see everyone leaving so suddenly as well, but Freya and Bast promised they'd come visit every chance they got.
They saw the Companions off and then Bishop, Rona, Serlas and Malborn all set out. Rona insisted she ride alone, so Bishop got stuck with Malborn leaving him feeling quite irritated every time the bosmer leaned over to stare harshly at the passersby or when he swiveled around suddenly thinking someone was coming to get him from behind.
They were nearly at the border of Cyrodiil and Malborn kept fidgeting and peering around Bishop, trying to see who was waiting for them at the border. Finally Bishop had enough. He twisted in his seat and grabbed Malborn by the neck of his clothes and growled through grit teeth, "If you squirm around one more time I'm throwing you off and then you can chase us on foot the rest of the way."
Rona smirked to herself glad to see things back to normal as always. They approached the border crossing, between a thin split in the mountains where plenty of Imperials were stationed, seeing who was coming and going to and from Skyrim and Cyrodiil. Serlas was already prepared with papers for the four of them, granted two of them were in fact forged, both Bishop and Malborn were given fake identities so they could easily pass through undetected.
Serlas handed over all the paperwork to a Legate standing nearby a guard's tower with several windows in it. He looked them over and went wide-eyed, looking back up at Serlas and said, "Welcome home Arch-Mage," then he raised a brow at Rona and nodded, "Dragonborn."
She forced a smile and they were all allowed to pass through. Of course when they saw a Thalmor Justiciar and several Thalmor soldiers flanking him, Malborn nearly fell off the horse in a panic. Bishop turned right around and yanked the bosmer's hood up on his cloak and told him to keep his mouth shut and to hold still.
The Justiciar immediately strode over to Serlas upon seeing him and sneered in Aldmeri, "(Well, if it isn't former Arch-Mage Thoraminh. What brings you back to Cyrodiil?)"
"I've just returned with my daughter for a wedding Ondelemar," Serlas insisted on speaking in Cyrodiilic, "unfortunately we've no time to chat. She is the bride's maid of honor and still must be fitted for her dress and has many parties she'll need to appear at. So it's very important we continue moving."
Ondelemar looked rather smug, returning the conversation in Cyrodiilic, "Well, if I do remember right, you and she both have a warrant out for your arrests for infiltrating the Thalmor Embassy in Skyrim and stealing important documents from the Ambassador herself."
"Actually Ondelemar, if I may correct you, that was all a huge misunderstanding. You see the Embassy was attacked by a vicious dragon at the time and we took refuge within the Ambassador's Solar so that we might avoid being killed. But it's quite alright, I have a full pardon from Emperor Titus the second right here, if you'd like to look it over," Serlas pulled out a set of very formal looking papers from his pocket and held them out to the Justiciar. He snatched them from Serlas and read them over and his smug look was wiped right off his face.
"I see," he drawled and looked at Serlas with half-lidded eyes, "Well, it appears that these check out." He handed them back to Serlas who quickly stuffed them back into his robes and the old elf smiled kindly at the Justiciar.
They spurred their horses onward and Ondelemar called back to Serlas, "(The Emperor will not always be there to protect you Serlas. Just know, when the Dominion finally does crush Cyrodiil and your little Empire, you are the first on their list of blood-traitors. You and that half-breed brat of yours.)"
Rona just rolled her eyes. More idle threats from the Thalmor, as always. She looked over at her father and he glanced back at her. She gave him a smile, glad that he had the foresight to contact the Emperor for a full pardon for the events at the Embassy. He returned the smile and they moved on, taking their next left to head on into the Jerall Mountains towards the Temple of the Ancestor Moths.
Rona worried that the monks wouldn't meet with them. They hadn't sent word of their impending arrival and without her voice to prove she was Dragonborn, they didn't know what to expect, but Serlas wanted to try either way.
She pulled her white cloak over her shoulders, shivering a bit in the high altitude. Soon they were met with snow. They traveled for two days through the rough mountain terrain. There were still plenty of pines and plants growing along, so they weren't too high up. Rona made sure to pack some very warm fur blankets for the trip, otherwise she'd freeze to death in her sleep. Karnwyr helped to keep her warm at night and Bishop looked disappointed every time she went to sleep without pulling him along with her.
After the third day of travel they finally arrived at the temple, having to hike through a lush forested area with plenty of snow all around and they passed through some thick, broken stone walls that flanked the entrance. The Temple of the Ancestor Moths was surprisingly huge. It was an enormous building which wrapped around in a 'U' shape. The grey and white building went up at least three stories tall and had three round roofed towers on each section of the building.
It had great arches built into it where plenty of rounded windows sat and more arches at the bottom of the building, leading into several entryways. There was an enormous courtyard centered in the middle of the building and standing front and center was a giant statute of an old monk dressed in robes, probably someone important that they revered, maybe the founder of their cult.
The courtyard was lightly landscaped with some bushes and pines here and there to accent the blank walls between windows and arches. The most unusual thing about the place however, were the number of moths flying around the lit sconces all along the walls and at the larger roaring sconces in the courtyard. There was an unusually large number of them, she thought, especially considering the climate. She wondered if perhaps they were a type of moth that thrived in the cold, which would explain why there were so many of them.
They noticed only a few monks braving the snowfall and cold outside as they wandered the grounds and occasionally stopped to quietly pray. The group left their horses by the stairs and headed into the courtyard. There was a real sense of peace to the place and definitely a lot of quiet.
One of the monks looked over, taking notice of the group and slowly approached them, holding his hands together, under his robes as the Greybeards did, so that the sleeves cascaded together. He was wearing white robes and had a stark white beard and a shaved head. Rona noticed that he had very kind eyes and when he spoke it was with a soft voice, "Welcome travelers to the Temple of Ancestor Moths. I apologize, but we were not expecting the arrival of any visitors."
"The apologies are mine," Serlas replied, "My name is Serlas Thoraminh and this is my daughter Rona Thoraminh. We have come here seeking the knowledge of the Elder Scrolls. I was hoping you might grant us an audience, despite not sending correspondence first. You see it is very urgent that we speak with the Moth Priests about matters concerning the return of the dragons."
The monk looked on at both of them with deep curiosity in his eyes and said, "Well, it would be highly unusual for us to share our knowledge or secrets of the Elder Scrolls with outsiders. May I ask what exactly it is about the dragons in particular that brings you here?"
"Of course," Serlas said, "Sir?"
The monk chuckled and said, "Ah, I am Brother Dexion Evicus. I am one of the Moth Priests."
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance Brother Evicus. Well, I shall get quickly into it. I am sure you have heard all about the return of dragons to Skyrim."
"Yes," Brother Evicus nodded, "That we have. We have even heard them among our own mountains, fortunately they have chosen to avoid our humble temple at this time."
Rona shared an anxious glance with Bishop, both knowing that her presence there was putting those people in danger if the dragons nearby could sense her.
"Are you aware that the World Eater has returned?" Serlas asked him.
Brother Evicus looked on at Serlas with genuine surprise then and he said, "No. As I said before we do not often get visitors to our humble chapel. This is dire news indeed."
"Would you believe me, Brother Evicus, if I told you that my daughter is the only one who can stop this fiend?"
He turned his kind gaze to her then, regarding her and pulled a hand from his sleeve to stroke at his beard, "Well, if that were true, then that would mean she is Dragonborn."
"She is," Serlas said.
Brother Evicus nodded politely to her and said, "It is an honor Dragonborn. I never thought to meet one in my lifetime and no less a Maiden of Dragon Flame, an even greater rarity."
She bowed her head politely back but then he said, "Perhaps I could see a demonstration of your power? Not that I doubt you, but it would certainly solidify the fact that you are who you claim to be."
Rona pressed her lips together. She knew she couldn't. She'd been trying to shout and speak for the entire two days of travel there to no avail.
Brother Evicus looked at her expectantly and smiled, "A bit shy, perhaps?"
Serlas interjected, "I am afraid Rona will not be able to shout for you at this time. She recently experienced a severe trauma which has taken her voice from her."
Brother Evicus parted his lips and said, "Ah... well..."
Rona shivered fiercely as a cold gust of wind blew by and the kindly monk, took notice and said, "Please, come inside and out of this cold. We do not have much, but we do have warmth."
They followed the kindly monk through the courtyard and into the temple. Rona was relieved to be inside, finally, after days of shivering, even under the warmth of the fur blankets she'd brought and with Karnwyr sleeping by her. She never realized how warm Bishop actually was until she slept in the snow without him.
Brother Evicus motioned to a nearby table with long benches and they all took a seat, except for Bishop who leaned against a wall with Karnwyr near his feet.
Serlas said, "I promise you Brother Evicus, we would not have hiked all this way just to take advantage of your hospitality. My daughter has reached a dead end in her journey to defeat the World Eater. She must find an Elder Scroll and take it to the Throat of the World and use it to look into the past so that she might learn a dragon's shout which will allow her to defeat this beast of Oblivion."
Brother Evicus nodded knowingly and said, "I see. Yes, that sounds right. It is told that the Elder Scroll of Dragon is the one that Jillian and the ancient Tongues used to send the World Eater out of our realm."
"That is only partly true," Serlas said, "Alduin was not merely sent out of our realm, he was in fact sent adrift through time and came bursting out into our time now. He has since been resurrecting the dragons of old and attempting to regain a dominant hold over the lands of Skyrim and I am sure he intends to move on to the rest of Nirn when he's finished there."
"That is... alarming," Brother Evicus said with real worry.
Serlas pressed him, "Do you know where we might find the Elder Scroll of Dragon? Do you have any ideas as to its whereabouts?"
Brother Evicus took a breath and looked between them all and said, "I am sorry, but I cannot share those details."
"Why not!?" Bishop barked from his position against the wall, "The world is going to end if we don't find it! That means the world ends for all of you too!"
Brother Evicus looked at him and said, "If perhaps the young lady could prove she were Dragonborn, then I might be able to share my knowledge, but I am afraid that without further evidence I simply cannot reveal what we know. You understand my caution, I hope. There are many who seek the Elder Scrolls, not just us, but those who would use them for wrongdoing and to take power for themselves."
Bishop grumbled loudly and just shook his head. Rona felt just as angry and frustrated. Especially when the monk said, "When you regain your voice Dragonborn, please return to us and we will gladly speak with you then."
She got right up and left, storming out of there and back into the snow. She hated it. Being without her voice. She was completely useless without it. They'd come so far only to hit another wall. They were so damn close! She could feel it. She could literally feel her blood boiling that's how close they were. At least that's why she thought her blood was boiling. Until she realized that she was getting that feeling because of the two pale white dragons perched above on the thick stone walls were staring at her murderously.
She completely froze, she just stood there, staring right back at them. She had nothing, no shouts, no magic... she had her swords. She drew them both and one of the dragons let out a low growl at her while the other eyed her, twisting it's head back and forth like a bird before saying, "[She is the Dragonborn? She is very weak my brother. I can hardly sense her. Are you sure it is this mortal?]"
"[Look upon her blades brother]," the other said, "[They are made from the bones of our kin. She is the one. She is Rona of Dragon Fangs.]"
"[If we kill her...]"
"[Yes]," the other growled a sneer, "[Lord Alduin will reward us greatly. Freeze her.]"
The other raised its head and made to shout when an arrow whistled by and hit it in the neck. Bishop roared, "RONA RUN!"
She twisted on the spot and ran back towards him, racing towards the building. She had to get cover. She could not fight them. But the other flew down suddenly, stomping down right in front of her, blocking her path. She tried to shout but nothing came out. Why? Why Akatosh!? WHY!?
The beast snapped at her but Bishop grabbed her arm hard, pulling her out of the way. She recoiled from his grip and then the beast yowled in pain. Karnwyr was biting viciously into its leg. Bishop looked desperately at her, "COME ON!"
She ran with him as he whistled for Karnwyr and the wolf let go, before the dragon had a chance to bite him. They ran around the side of the temple, narrowly missing being hit by a shout of ice from the other that still had an arrow in its neck. They slid under the cover of an overhang and then they heard the blasts of destruction magic from the other side of the building. Serlas was facing off against one of them. The other came slithering and stomping down towards them, looking at them under the overhang. Bishop nocked an arrow and snarled firing a perfect shot right into one of its eyes. It roared furiously and they turned and sprint into the forests.
Why couldn't she do anything? She couldn't summon the fire within, she couldn't call forth the Dragonborn of yore, she couldn't shout or bring forth music or do any of it! She felt so utterly useless. They heard the loud crash and cracking of trees behind them as the dragon came hurtling after them and roared its icy breath at them. Bishop shoved her out of the way and grunted in pain. She looked back at him, fearfully but he just urged her onward, "MOVE! MOVE!"
Karnwyr was racing alongside them through the thick nestling of pines and the beast struggled to weave its way through. It roared ice at them and they quickly took cover behind a thick tree. Rona looked over at Bishop, worried for him, but he just focused on the task at hand. He looked at her and said, "Draw your bow! Swords aren't going to do you any good right now!"
She sheathed her blades and drew her bow. He said, "On my count we fire! Aim for its face! Get the other eye if you can!"
She nocked her bow and Bishop counted, "One - two - three!" They both peered around the tree and there was nothing. The dragon was gone. Until they heard its roar above them and the tree they were under shuddered and cracked and then the roots came up right under them as the tree toppled, lifting them high up into the air.
Karnwyr was down below barking madly and trying to figure out how to get to them. Rona tried to scream but even that wouldn't come out. Bishop reached for her as he clung with his forearm to one of the thick roots, still holding his bow. "RONA! TAKE MY HAND! PLEASE!"
She hesitated to take his hand as she hung desperately on watched her own bow fall far down to the ground. She couldn't slow their fall without her magic, and she saw the furious dragon hissing and clutching at the enormous tree as it forced it to essentially flip over. "RONA!" Bishop roared at her. She gave in. Bishop would never hurt her and right now he was just trying to protect her. She reached for him but it was too late. With another shudder the tree split apart and she fell, Bishop fell too and then she felt it as a dragon's soul entered her body and instead of hitting the ground hard she floated safely down.
She looked back and saw her father, angrier than she'd ever seen him, casting powerful destruction magic against the dragon that was chasing after them. He cast an inferno over the beast and it writhed in pain, shouting its ice to combat it. It flapped backwards trying to escape and then flew high up, evading the fire before giving up and fleeing over the mountains beyond.
Serlas ran to her and knelt down beside her, taking care not to lay hands on her, not knowing how she'd react and breathed, "Are you alright velvyn?"
She nodded and looked around for Bishop, he was safely on the ground too, with Karnwyr right at his side, but was on his knees and clutching at his arm. Rona scrambled to her feet and ran to him. He looked up at her as she approached before averting his gaze. Serlas came over and said, "Let me see your wound Bishop."
Bishop undid the buckles on his clothes and revealed the horrible frostbite on his upper arm. Rona threw her hands to her mouth. She had the power to heal Dragon's Frost. She could fix this. She held her hands out to him and tried to will the fires within to melt the frost. They watched her struggle and try over and over again to heal him, but nothing happened.
"Ladyship," Bishop whispered.
She looked on at him, mortified and hating herself every second.
Serlas said, "It will be alright velvyn. I will do what I can for it." He cast a few healing spells over Bishop which seemed to stem the speed at which the frostbite was spreading, but did not heal or stop it altogether.
She got up then and turned away from them and started walking towards an old pine. She started to pummel it with her fists, kicking it furiously and screaming silently to the skies. Why was this happening!? Why couldn't she do anything about it!? Were they punishing her!? Because she hadn't completed her journey!? Because she couldn't figure out what to do next!?
She screamed and screamed with no voice and then she fell to her knees, slumping against the tree and buried her face in her knees and cried. Bishop was going to be consumed by Dragon's Frost and she could do nothing to save him. He was going to die because of her. Because of her weakness and failures, just like he nearly died a week before when Thorn took her and ruined her. The man was dead but he'd still taken everything from her. She was nothing without her voice.
After letting her cry it out and with great urging from her father and Bishop she returned to the Temple of Ancestor Moths.
Brother Evicus and the other monks had seen everything from the safety of their windows. They'd seen the dragon soul enter her body when Serlas managed to bring the one down.
That's when Brother Evicus sat down with them and said, "We know the scroll is in Skyrim. We suspect its within a Dwemer Ruin, but we have not located where."
This news just left Rona slumping miserably at the table. She ran her fingers through her hair and lowered her face to the table and just stared at it. Another dead end. More uselessness. It was over. There was nothing else to do but scour every Dwemer ruin in Skyrim and hope they'd find the Elder Scroll of Dragon and that could take years and by then Alduin probably would have conquered Skyrim and started to consume the world.
Brother Evicus kindly offered them beds for the night and he allowed Serlas to take a look at their personal library on everything Elder Scroll so that he might see if there were any clues as to which Dwemer ruin the scroll presided in. Bishop sat on a bed, petting a worried Karnwyr and tried not to show just how much his arm was hurting him.
Rona could only imagine how painful it was and yet he was there, staying strong for her, while she just laid there on a bed, staring miserably at the ceiling.
Malborn was still as anxious as ever, especially now that he'd seen dragons attack them all. He was extremely jumpy and every time the sound of a door closing or the step on a staircase squeaked he practically leapt out of his skin.
Bishop got annoyed with it and got up. He went over to Rona and looked down at her and said, "Come on, let's go for a walk." She stared back at him despondently and he pleaded, "Please Ladyship. Just a walk. That's all I ask."
She relented and went with him, pulling her cloak over herself.
Malborn saw them going and stammered, "W-Wait! Where are you going?"
"Going for a walk to get away from you, yah paranoid lunatic!" Bishop barked back.
"B-But I-!"
Bishop turned back and looked at Karnwyr who was following them. He pointed to Malborn and said, "Stay with him boy." Karnwyr whined, but did as told and went over to Malborn, sitting by his feet. "There. Now you've got plenty of protection."
Malborn didn't look so sure but they left before he could say another word.
Bishop led her outside and walked over to where the horses were stabled for the night. He unclipped her lute from Ember and went back over to her, getting her to follow him. They wandered a ways into the forested area behind the temple until Bishop found a cozy overhang nestled under the mountain, surrounded by a thicket of trees and brush. It was enough to protect them from the chill wind. He told her to sit down and gave her, the lute while he went about collecting some firewood and put together a small campfire for them.
Rona sat close to it and just held her lute. She had no desire to play anything at all. She felt like there was no point if she couldn't sing. But Bishop handed her a book then and said, "Open it up to page twenty-two and play that song for me, okay?"
She looked at the book. It was Songs of Skyrim. The songbook a traveling minstrel had given her a long time ago. She touched the flakey gold lettering for a moment, just remembered how happy she was to sing with the man back then.
"Please?" Bishop said suddenly and she broke from her reverie. She turned the pages and looked over the title of the song, Words That We Couldn't Say. She looked up at him with half-lidded eyes and he just chuckled, "Come on Ladyship. Just play it already. Been missing the sound of your lute."
(The Song is Words That We Couldn't Say by Steve Conte)
She sighed and started playing the song on her lute. The tune was fairly intricate and fun to play and she enjoyed the sound. But she was completely startled when Bishop started to sing the words and he did so surprisingly well.
"We couldn't say them, so now we just pray them,
Words that we couldn't say.
Funny, ain't it? Games people play,
Scratch it, paint it, one in the same,
We couldn't find them, so we tried to hide them,
Words that we couldn't say.
It hurts, don't it? Fools on parade,
Taint it, own it, chase it away,
We couldn't make them, so we had to break them,
Words that we couldn't say."
She smiled brightly at him and he grinned back at her as she played the very intricate solo portion on her lute. She felt her cheeks burning red at the way he looked at her but especially how he looked at her when he put all his passion into the words, trying his damndest to sing it well. And he did. He had a beautiful voice. Her heart leapt when he sang again.
"Sometimes baby, we make mistakes,
Dark and hazy, prices we pay,
I sit here in my shelf, just talking to myself,
Words that we couldn't say.
Someday, maybe, We'll make it right,
Until that day, Long endless nights,
We couldn't say them, So now we just pray them,
Words that we couldn't say.
We couldn't say them, So now we just pray them,
Words that we couldn't say.
Someday, maybe, We'll make it right,
Until that day, Long endless night,
We couldn't say them, So now we just pray them,
Words that we couldn't say."
She was almost sad that it was over. But then she set the lute aside and got up. He watched her as she knelt down beside him, silent still, but looking on lovingly at him and he returned the gaze. She felt her tears cascading quickly then and she finally did what she'd wanted to do for so long. She threw her arms around him and buried her face into the side of his neck and let him wrap his much bigger, stronger and protective arms around her.
He held her tightly and she heard him crying too as he choked out, "I love you Rona. I love you more than you'll ever know. Gods I love you."
They held each other for so long and he whispered his words of love and comfort over and over to her and it felt good. It felt right.