The Boy With The Crimson Eyes
Chapter 6 – The Rift
I think of you
I haven't slept
I think I do
But, I don't forget
My body moves
Goes where I will
But though I try, my heart stays still
It never moves
Just won't be led
And so my mouth waters, to be fed
And you're always in my head
- Always In My Head by Coldplay
At the Windpeak Inn in the small town of Dawnstar, Wolf sat on a bar stool brooding with a tankard of whiskey in his hand, the almost empty bottle on the bar top beside him. The storm had stopped and he'd climbed down the mountain in desperate need of space… and alcohol. His split lip and swollen cheek bore mute evidence of the fight he'd gotten into with the local faction the moment he'd walked into the town. Fools. They'd known who he was, yet attacked him anyway.
Behind the bar, the pretty tavern wench with the short red curls picked up the bottle of whiskey and refilled his tankard. She gave him a saucy wink before tending to another patron. The wench had been nice enough to find him some clothes – dark trousers, a leather jerkin he wore over a woolen tunic with sleeves, a heavy black mantle lined with fur, and leather boots. He was also armed, after having taken a number of daggers and a sword off of the now dead faction members that had attacked him and lied dead in the snow.
It was approaching two in the morning and the patrons of the inn began to head drunkenly home for the night or stumble up the stairs to their rented rooms. Wolf, however, continued to stare sullenly into his tankard, his onyx hair hanging like a dark curtain around his face. He was oblivious to everything around him as he contemplated the distressing situation he'd gotten himself into.
Six years ago, he'd crawled into a dark pit of anger and despair to cauterize his wounds and heal the ragged wound that was his soul. In truth, he hadn't been able to survive her leaving. Vilkas had truly died that day, but like a phoenix rising from the ashes, Wolf was born. He'd cut all tenderness and mercy from his heart, to make damn sure no one ever made a fool of him again like she did. He'd closed himself off completely from every human feeling, and distanced himself from the world and the people in it. He'd spent his days unleashing his anger in the form of violence on his enemies, fighting for a cause that he believed in and that brought purpose and meaning to his otherwise empty existence, all the while trying to eradicate the memory of the woman who'd once broken him.
He no longer trusted women, and only took them to bed when the need was strong. Otherwise, he shunned them. Yet this one… Fianna… she intrigued him in an elemental yet unexpected way. There was something about her - he had no idea what – that evoked disturbing emotions within him. The interest he held for her was one he hadn't known in a long, long time. The draw to her was not purely sexual, although that was a good deal of it. There was no denying he felt a strong attraction to her. But his desire went deeper then mere lust, which needled him. He sensed she could fulfill him in some unimagined way, could bring brightness and warmth to his life, which had been barren of both for six long years.
Wolf's shadowed eyes were half-lidded as memories of last night floated through his inebriated mind, stirring his blood.
He couldn't figure out why it had such an effect on him. He hadn't even kissed her lips, just that damn mask she wore. And yet, he couldn't stop thinking about that kiss. About how she felt. How she responded. How she'd leaned into him willingly…
But it was his own response that rankled him. His heart had hammered beneath her small palm, his blood had rushed through his veins, his breath had been unsteady, and every molecule of his being had been buzzing and hot. He'd felt a stir of hunger awaken in him, the likes of which he hadn't felt in such a long time. He'd felt fervent, anxious, aware, and awake. Alive, for the first time in years. She'd caused a sliver of something real and raw to curl inside the cold recesses of his heart.
He didn't like it, didn't trust it.
Yet, despite his best efforts, that kiss kept replaying itself over and over in his mind – every damned second of it.
Dammit, he'd momentarily lost his mind last night. Why had he kissed her? He'd known better, yet he'd kissed her anyway. She was married with a kid! What the hell had he been thinking? Fianna was the wrong woman to want, but gods help him, he wanted her all the same. He hadn't wanted a woman so badly in a very long time.
Six years, eight months, and five days to be exact.
His head came up at that, his dark brows deeply creased. It was then that he realized Fianna was the first woman he'd kissed since Faye. That made him angry for some reason, which confused him even more than he already was.
His head hung heavy on his shoulders that were hunched over the bar top. Shor's blood, he didn't need this now. What he needed was a distraction. Women fell into his bed. He could find one now, relieve his sexual frustration and at the same time destroy these unwanted feelings that were gnawing at him while also mending his vanity that had been pricked by Fianna's rejection of him. Accustomed to being pursued by women, he had limited experience with rejection.
It mattered not, for in the morning he would return to the cave for his armor before returning to the Blades keep. Wolf lifted his tankard and tossed his head back, downing the last of the liquid before slamming it down on the bar top. His head instantly began to throb and protested fiercely to the physical movement as everything began to blur and spin from the effects of the alcohol.
Wolf's eyes closed and his fingers tightened on the tankard in his hand as Fianna's eyes appeared unbidden in his mind's eye. They were crinkled in the corners with laughter as a sweet feminine laugh mixed with the innocent giggles of a child echoed in his head, pulling tight on something within him.
"So, you're the Wolf of the Blades," purred a feminine voice in his ear.
Wolf opened his eyes, glaring, to see who dared bother him.
A long leg swung in front of him and a warm body slid between him and the bar top he was leaning against, forcing him to sit back on the bar stool he was perched on. His eyes fell to the bare legs that went on for days straddling his lap. His eyes moved up to a green tavern wench top that had enough buttons undone at the top to make it abundantly clear that there was nothing but female under the cloth. Up even further were full lips painted red, a short-cropped cap of artlessly tumbled auburn curls, a saucy smile, and a pair of caramel brown eyes that were heavily lined with coal.
All in all, this tavern wench was just his type: Nordic, stunningly gorgeous, seemingly easy, and not expecting more than one night.
"Aye. And who are you?" Wolf slurred, his breath heavy with the stench of alcohol. He squinted against the brightness coming from the fire in the center of the room, struggling to focus on the redhead, as the room seemed to spin.
"Sonya," the redhead said in a low, sultry voice as her fingertips traced aimlessly along the back of his neck.
Wolf nodded, uncaring, not really hearing her. He reached around her and brought the bottle of whiskey that was resting on the bar top to his lips. The redhead ducked her head quickly to avoid getting hit with the bottle.
The honey colored mixture swirled and glittered pleasantly in the dim light as he swilled the contents of the bottle. The sweet liquid burned his throat delightfully as it went down. It was smooth and smoky with a hint of heat. Wanting more, Wolf lifted the bottle again and took a heavy swallow.
"I've heard about you," the redhead murmured flirtatiously, batting her eyelashes. "One glance at you and I knew who you were. Your name is on everybody's lips in Skyrim."
Wolf answered with his usual, "Mm." It was a non-committal sound used to fool the conversationalist into thinking he was actually paying attention. He had to admit, he liked the result. They usually gave up and left him alone, but this tavern wench was proving to be harder to shake as she ran both of her hands through his long black hair till she reached his shoulder blades then returned to aimlessly trace her fingers along his nape.
"Your reputation is fierce. They say your strength is unmatched. They even say you might be king someday," she whispered in his ear emphasizing heavily on the second to last word.
Wolf frowned. He was about to push her off of him when he suddenly felt her warm lips on his ear. "How about we go somewhere more… private so that we can get to know each other better?" she murmured in a husky voice before nibbling his earlobe.
"What makes you think I want to get to know you better?" Wolf scowled, his words heavily slurred.
The tavern wench pulled back slightly, her caramel brown eyes meeting my dark-grey ones, and stuck out her bottom lip in an attractive pout. She moved in for a kiss and Wolf sank his free hand firmly into her short auburn curls, holding her head, preventing her from coming any closer. He impassively watched her expression as she slowly moved her lips to his neck.
She'll be good for a night, Wolf thought unemotionally. She'll be a good distraction.
As her mouth moved over his neck, Wolf thought it over in his mind whether he wanted the redhead for the night or not. Still debating, the redhead shifted in his lap, moving in for another kiss. Abruptly, Wolf pulled back, his mind decided. She wasn't the one he wanted.
"Tonya. Why don't you make yourself useful and go get me another bottle," Wolf grumbled as he shoved her callously off of him.
The tavern wench stumbled slightly, but once she caught her balance she turned to him trying to hide her vexation. "It's Sonya. And, ugh, sure… let me just, uhh, get that for you, sugar," she said with forced sweetness as she mustered up a weak smile.
Wolf waved her off dismissively with one hand as he turned his attention back to the almost empty bottle of alcohol in his hand. The Nord lifted the bottle and took a hefty swallow, finishing the bottle off. The room grew warmer, more inviting as the whiskey gripped his senses. His head was spinning and his temples were thumping painfully against his skull.
"Here's your bottle," the redhead said, handing it to him. She flashed him a wicked grin as her hands ran provocatively down her supple, scantly clothed body. "Are you sure you don't want to…?"
His eyes cut to her. "I do not require a whore for the night," Wolf grumbled harshly with a forbidding glare. "Why don't you run off and spread your legs for someone that will actually have you?"
The wench's smile fell and her brown eyes tightened in indignation. "You're a cruel, heartless bastard," she hissed before she turned sharply and sauntered away.
Uncaring, Wolf turned his attention back to the alcohol in his hand. "I know," he grumbled drunkenly as he lifted the new bottle to his lips, the weight of it surprising him. He took a long pull on it. The room began to spin more quickly and he found himself having difficulty holding his head upright. He fought to remain conscious, but the whiskey forced his mind and eyes to close and shut out the world.
Just the way he liked it.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Fianna tossed and turned on her fur pallet, her mind filled with nothing but that kiss. Gods help her, she couldn't stop it from repeating over and over in her head, no matter how hard to tried to think of something else, anything else.
The kiss had been a mistake. So was this attraction she had for Wolf. She couldn't have anything to do with a Blade. Not only that, but Wolf himself was a difficult man, a complex one, and she wasn't sure he even had the capacity to feel something as tender an emotion as affection for another human being. That was not the kind of man she wanted to be kissing. That was not the kind of man she wanted around her son. She'd lost her head, wasn't thinking. For a moment she'd forgotten who he was, who she was, the life she'd chosen.
She looked down at her hands and fidgeted with the wedding ring on her finger that seemed to burn into her skin like guilt. She twisted the simple gold band round and round.
The kiss had been a mistake. A big mistake.
Heavy thoughts plagued her until dawn when Wolf returned to the cave. He spoke not a word, his features strained and drawn. She noticed he wore different clothes and when she asked him where he'd gone, he ignored her, going straight to his pile of armor and quickly donning each piece. His manner was withdrawn, unwelcoming, and that look he sometimes had of being far away had taken control of his face. Only this time, he was even more distant, utterly indifferent and horribly cold. Whatever chink in the armor he kept around him had been exposed last night, was lost.
She couldn't help feeling disappointed.
While Drake slept, one hand curled around Meeko's neck and the other clutching the little wooden sword Wolf had made him, Fianna rose quietly from the fur pallet and put on her black cloak over her Dark Brotherhood armor before heading outside the cave.
The storm was over. The sun was shining through a blue sky on dazzling snow that stretched into infinity before her. Her arms wrapped around herself for warmth from the winter chill in the air but the low sun had begun to warm the land.
While she stood watching the sunrise the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She turned to find Wolf standing in the mouth of the cave fully dressed in full ebony Blades armor and a black wool mantle. He had an unreadable look on his face while he stared at her - his eyes dark and fathomless – hiding the thoughts behind them. Her face flushed as she realized she had no idea how long he'd been standing there behind her.
Unease scratched at the edges of her consciousness as he continued to remain silently staring at her, unblinking. Her lips parted beneath her mask, but no words came out as those black-grey orbs continued to drill into her. The moment stretched on, the silence disconcerting, the tension becoming almost unbearable.
A winter wind swept passed them, ruffling his long black hair and her cloak. Her body stiffened as she caught the scent of alcohol and cheap perfume on the wind. She wondered if he'd spent all night with some woman in Dawnstar. It didn't matter, she told herself. She didn't care who he slept with, as long as it wasn't her. She didn't even like the man.
Her chin lifted sharply with that thought in mind. "Since the storm has passed, Drake and I will be leaving," she said into the pulsing silence.
She watched his eyes grow stormy grey and a muscle moved up and down in his jaw, as if he were chewing on something hard and distasteful.
He continued to stand obstinately mute and the silence unsettled her nerves, rubbing them raw, doing nothing to diminish his presence, which seemed to be pressing in on her. "I will prepare a pack for your trip home," Fianna offered graciously, breaking the silence. "I'll pack you some food and water as well as health potions, medicinal herbs, and bandages. I don't have much money, but what I have is yours if you need it."
Disturbed by a breeze, the pines murmured as he continued to study her with that impenetrable gaze. "Where will you go?" His ruined voice scraped like glass shards across gravel.
"Riften," she answered honestly. "I'm late meeting someone there."
His face, his eyes, his expression were unfathomable, giving nothing away as he said firmly, "I will escort you."
Her gaze darted away. "You needn't concern yourself with us."
"I will escort you," he repeated inflexibly, brooking no argument.
Her gaze slowly returned to his. "Why?"
His countenance turned dark and grim. "You said the boy's father was searching for you, intending to cause you and your son harm." She swallowed as his hard gaze penetrated her. "I will make sure you and your son get to Riften unharmed."
Fianna shifted her weight awkwardly in the snow. It was honorable of him to see to their protection and safety when he had no obligation to. She brought her bottom lip between her teeth as she thought on his offer.
"Alright," she said with uncertainty after a long pause, looking into his inscrutable eyes. When he said nothing, Fianna straightened and moved toward the cave.
Wolf's gauntleted hand caught her wrist before she could pass him. The moment he touched her, she felt a charge of electricity arch between them with the contact, jolting her with an abrupt shock.
Fianna felt his gaze on her, felt the heat of it, burning away every layer of clothing until she felt raw and exposed. With her heart knocking against her chest wall, she turned her head to the side and she slowly lifted her eyes to his and was instantly arrested by the broody orbs that held her as he stood huge and imposing over her.
"Last night was a mistake." His damaged voice was sharp and brittle, the frigid intensity in his eyes piercing into her like icicles.
"I know," she replied quietly, hoping the catch in her voice wouldn't betray her, her wrist burning like a ring of fire were his fingers curled around it like a manacle.
His features were stony and forbidding, giving no hint of emotion or warmth. "I don't want or need a woman and a kid in my life." His grip tightened on her wrist. "I don't want or need anyone in my life."
"We won't be any trouble for you," she stated evenly, the lines of her jaw tense with the effort to appear calm, unaffected.
The air pulsed with a current of energy as he looked at her with a strange expression, his eyes overcast and unreadable. "I'll go get the horses."
Wolf released her and she took a long slow breath to steady herself as she watched him stride away, his long dark hair and infamous ebony armor stamping him with a sinister air, the silhouette of his tall form against the snow like a darkly forbidding apparition from some stygian gloom. He suddenly looked the beast he was named after as he stalked across the snow-covered earth – predatory, dangerous, menacing. An unnerving shiver fluttered down her spine as her eyes followed his ominous figure.
Fianna returned to the cave to find Drake wide-awake and swinging his little wooden sword around, practicing.
"We're leaving, sparrow."
He stopped mid-swing and stared at her aghast, "What?!"
"It's time for us to continue on our way."
"But… but what about Wolf?" the boy stammered, his green eyes glistening from the wetness in them.
Fianna cringed at the disappointment in his voice and at the tears in his eyes. "Wolf must return to his life with the Blades."
His gaze turned bright and anticipative. "Can we go with him?"
"No," she answered gently. "You know we can't."
The hope that had flickered brightly in his eyes quickly waned. His little chin began to tremble. "But… but he's my friend," came the sadly whispered reply.
Drake began to cry softly, large round tears rolling down his cheeks, and the sight of it cut at Fianna's heart. "Oh, my little sparrow," she whispered, the sympathetic smile she gave him concealed behind her mask. She moved to him and knelt on the ground before him, trying to catch his eyes. "You will make other friends."
"N-No… I… w-won't…" he sniffled with his head bowed, his coal hair falling into his evergreen eyes as he stared glumly down at the wooden sword in his hand.
Her heart clenched at his words and at that look of melancholy. Fianna fell back to sit on the ground and pulled her son onto her lap, cradling his back, her arms wrapping protectively around his small body. "You will," she whispered assuredly into his ear. "You are the sweetest, kindest, bravest, strongest boy I know. Anyone would be luck to call you friend."
"Re… really…?" he hiccupped, his eyes and nose running.
She nodded before pressing her cloth-covered lips to his temple. "We'll have a real home one day, little sparrow. Some little place in the country where we will be free. And all your friends will be there. Meeko will be there and so will Brynjolf. And you know Vex, Delvin, Tonilia, and Karliah will visit all the time, along with the others."
"You promise, mommy?" he asked in a high voice as he wiped his wet eyes and running nose with his sleeves. "We'll have a real home one day?"
"Of course we will," she stated with conviction. "Soon. Very soon."
Fianna felt Drake's little body tense suddenly in her arms.
"Drake?" she asked gently.
When no reply came, Fianna called her son's name but again no reply came. Concerned, Fianna leaned forward to peer at her son's face. "Drake?"
Drake remained silent. He had gone very still, his green eyes blank and staring off into space. Her face paled. She knew that look.
"Drake," she said firmly, her voice lined with steel, though her stomach rolled with fear.
Drake finally came out of his daze and lifted his head and gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, mommy."
Fianna was about to scold him when he winced and lifted his little hand to his chest and tenderly rubbed the skin over his heart.
She blanched, dread and apprehension flooding her. "Does it hurt?"
He nodded, his little face pinched and grimacing.
"How long?" she asked urgently.
He shrugged his little shoulders, not looking at her. "A while."
Her heart stopped beating in her chest. "How much longer until it's gone?"
He shrugged again, his cheeks turning pink, his eyes refusing to meet hers. "I don't know." His eyes flickered to hers briefly. "Soon."
Fianna exhaled heavily, her stomach twisting into uneasy knots as she lifted her eyes to the hundreds of stalactites descending from the ceiling of the cave. "We need to get to Riften," she stated resolutely. "We cannot wait any longer. You need your medicine."
"We're going to Riften?!" Drake's eyes brightened. "Will I get to play with Boppa?!" he cried with elation.
Fianna laughed. When Drake had been a baby he hadn't been able to say "Brynjolf" and instead call the Guild Master "Boppa." The name stuck.
She smiled and ruffled his messy mop of jet-black hair. "Of course you will. Brynjolf is waiting for us. He said he had a gift for you."
"A gift! For me?!" Drake cried with excitement. "What is it?! What is it?!"
"I don't know. We'll have to wait and see." A thought came to her and she gave him a little squeeze. "Hey, how about I make you some popped corn for the trip? How does that sound?"
"Yeah!" Drake cried with glee as he got to his feet and began practicing the moves Wolf had taught him.
Fianna got to her feet as well and dug through one of her packs for a small bag of corn kernels. She put the kernels of corn in a covered metal pan and set the pan over the fire. Seconds later, Drake ran over to her, squealing with delight, his brilliant green eyes widening and brightening with unbridled glee as the kernels cracked open with a sharp crackling noise, busting open in the pan. After a few minutes, Fianna used a rag to remove the pan from the fire. She poured most of the popped corn into a bag for the trip and the rest into a small bowl and handed it to Drake. He took it from her with a thank you and a kiss on her lips.
While Drake ate his popped corn, Fianna began packing up their belongings. While she stuffed a few of Drake's shirts into a pack, the little boy cocked his head to the side and asked, "Mommy…?"
"Yes, little sparrow?" Fianna replied absently as she picked up a plate off the floor.
"What does croí daor mean?"
Crash!
The plate in her hand fell to the floor and shattered.
Drake's jaw dropped. Wide-eyed, the little boy looked up at his mom, who had tears in her eyes. A fist was pressed tight against her heart and her eyes held pain, so much pain, like an image out of a nightmare.
"M-Mommy…?" Drake's little voice shook. He was scared.
"How… how do you… where did you hear that?" she asked breathlessly, her eyes fixed on the shattered plate on the ground.
Not sure what the right answer was, Drake muttered, "I don't know."
She continued to stand immobile, staring down at the ground, lost in a memory that seemed to bring even more pain into her eyes.
"M-Mommy… a-are you okay?"
A second later, Fianna looked dazed, as she seemed to mentally shake herself out of the memory. She looked down at Drake and smiled a very sad, wobbly smile behind her mask, her eyes glistening in the light of the dying fire. "It means-"
Meeko began barking madly as a bat flew over their heads. Drake screamed in terror and began swinging his little wooden sword wildly over his head. Fianna found the bat and with a flick of her wrist sent a Firebolt flying across the cave. The bat screeched as it caught fire and fell to the cave floor. Drake smiled up at her and she smiled down at him.
For the rest of the morning, Fianna and Drake packed, something they had perfected to an art. They placed the plates, cups, and utensils and other items in a large coffer. Fianna locked the coffer and hid it in the back of the cave alongside the kettle and buckets. She then cast a preservation spell over them for when they returned. She then left a Shadowmark on the wall.
It was then that Wolf returned from the Dawnstar stable with his horse and Fianna's. Together, Fianna and Wolf began working to transfer her packs and other belongings from the cave to her horse. The snow had formed a crust over which they could easily walk. The air was crisp and cold as they worked. Wolf remained silent and terrifyingly remote while Fianna maintained a studied indifference that took its toll on her willpower since her awareness of him had seeped into her senses and pooled low in her body. With each trip they made, the air around them seemed to thicken with the things they had said and could not say.
On their last trip, Fianna's foot caught on a root hidden beneath the snow and she stumbled sideways, losing her footing and falling into Wolf. His reflexes were quick and he dropped the packs he was carrying to catch her by her upper arms, steadying her. She felt an immediate tension in him, one that was reflected in herself, but incomprehensibly he didn't release her and she didn't step away.
The wind was a gentle soughing around them. For an endless moment they stood in the snow, unmoving. Fianna could do nothing but stare at his broad armored chest, her pulse escalating, aware of a slow heat that filled every pore on her skin.
Fianna swallowed hard before pulling back slightly. Her eyes dragged slowly up his large muscular torso to his face. Her breath hitched as she saw Wolf's breath drawing harshly between his teeth and when she caught a flare of something in his eyes, she knew he wasn't as indifferent as he pretended.
She tried to free herself, but he held her closer still. His face only inches away, the air immediately shifted, becoming strained and electric. Unnerving panic and anticipation seemed to crackle over her skin, making it hum in reaction to the way his predatory eyes ate her up, consumed her.
His gaze fell to her mask-covered lips, his face holding the intense look of a hunting beast as his breathing became faster, deeper. The dark hunger that filled his eyes stirred a strange pleasurable spark that flickered along the ends of her nerves.
Involuntarily, her chin lifted in silent invitation.
His nostrils flared slightly, and heat flamed in her belly, filled her chest, spread up her neck and into her cheeks. She willed him to kiss her again. Right now. Before either of them realized how foolish and dangerous that would be.
Wolf's head bent and he leaned into her, his fingers tightening on her upper arms, his eyes never leaving her mask and her heart hammered in her chest as he drew closer. A tremor shook her as she stared up at him, eyes wide, her breath escaping in a thin stream from between her parted lips to bloom in a white mist in front of her face.
His hot breath fanned across her masked mouth as his lips almost met hers. But the moment before they touched, she heard him draw in a sharp breath and his fingers dug painfully into her arms. Hardened granite eyes flew up to hers and narrowed severely, his mouth twisting savagely.
With an explosive curse, he shoved her away from him, and she fell backward, falling down hard in the snow. Wide-eyed she stared up at him. Wolf's body was taut, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, his chest rising and falling with his ragged breaths, his eyes blazing with something hot and hard and dangerous.
Shaken by his fierce anger, Fianna pressed a hand to her chest, trying to calm the frantic rhythm of her heart. Wolf looked away from her, completely shielding any expression, and swiftly collected the packs he'd dropped and continued towards the horses, as if he couldn't get away from her fast enough.
Fianna looked away from his retreating back to stare numbly at the snow that covered her, dumbfounded by her response to him. She didn't react this way to men and she certainly shouldn't be reacting this way to this man. What had become of her common sense? What had become of her control? But it seemed every time Wolf lowered his barriers, every time she stepped beyond hers, it became harder and harder to resist him. Talos, she couldn't afford to connect with him. She couldn't afford to connect with anyone.
Cursing herself, Fianna stood and brushed the snow off of her before retrieving the last of her packs from the cave and carrying them to her horse. All packed and ready to head out, Fianna returned to the cave and grabbed a wolf skin and wrapped it around Drake's shoulders before taking his hand and leading him to their horse.
Drake petted and cooed over the snow-white palfrey that he'd named Snowball. The horse nickered and snorted before nudging Drake's hand causing the boy to giggle. Fianna reached down to scratch behind Meeko's ear as he came to stand beside her, his tail wagging. Fianna ran a gloved hand over the mare's creamy mane while Snowball ate the carrot out of her gloved palm.
Her body suddenly stiffened as she heard Wolf approach. She felt him come up behind her and her skin prickled with awareness. She felt her heart give a stutter when his hands came to rest on her hips. Her breathing stopped all together when she felt his tall body brush against hers from behind. His hands tightened and a startled gasp caught in her throat as he lifted her effortlessly onto the mare before lifting Drake up under his armpits and handing him to her.
Her cheeks roasting, Fianna stared after him, stunned, as he moved coolly to his black stallion, seemingly unaffected while her nerves remained shaken. Wolf slipped a bridle over the head of his black steed and, throwing the reins over his neck, seized a handful of mane and vaulted to his back. He looked supremely powerful and totally ruthless just now, she thought, arrayed in full Blade armor and his black wool mantle, mounted on his black war stallion. His strong jaw suggested relentless determination, and he stared straight ahead, as if he were ruler of all he surveyed.
Realizing she was staring, Fianna ducked her head and adjusted Drake on her lap. Drake beamed up at her. "Mommy, can I hold the reins?!"
"Of course, sparrow."
"Yippee!"
Without uttering a word, Wolf led his stallion down the mountainside. Fianna didn't know if he was guiding them or walking away. She nudged her horse forward with her heels, following him, while Drake steered.
They travelled at a leisurely pace, stopping every now and then so Drake could explore some area he found interesting with Meeko and stretch his legs. They stopped to make camp when it grew too dark to travel. Five days later and they were traveling through the Rift, approaching the Blades Fortress in the Fall Forest located between Sunguard and Riften. Soon Wolf would leave them to return to his life as Commander of the Blades and they would continue on to Riften, most likely never to see him ever again. Fianna found herself reluctant to say goodbye, knowing it would be for forever.
Fianna shifted in her saddle, trying to get comfortable as she drew in the scent of the trees and the earth around her while the sounds of crickets and a nearby babbling brook sounded pleasantly in her ears. She turned her head to watch the sun that was just beginning to set, painting the sky in vibrant colors of orange and purple, the last rays of the sinking sun slanting across the top of the hills painting the landscape with bronzed heat as the Treva River snaked sapphire blue through the Rift.
Fianna pulled Drake closer to her, cradling his back, her arms tightening around his small body. "There is nothing like a Skyrim sunset, little sparrow," she murmured softly in his ear. "Stop whenever you can and enjoy it. Then thank the gods for something so beautiful."
"Okay, mommy," Drake murmured sleepily, his eyes drifting shut with exhaustion and he was soon lulled to sleep by the swaying of the animal's movements beneath him.
Feeling Wolf's gaze on her, Fianna turned her head to find the Nord warrior riding beside her looking at her strangely, his eyes holding a peculiar gleam in their slate-grey depths.
"I spoke with the townsfolk in Dawnstar about the dragon attack three weeks ago," Wolf said quietly so as not to wake Drake.
Fianna's body instinctively stiffened at his words, which she quickly tried to hide. She forced herself to respond evenly, "Oh?"
"That was my purpose in traveling to Dawnstar - to investigate the attack," he supplied, his eyes watching her closely.
She fixed a deliberately cool expression on her face as she met his scrutinizing gaze. "I assumed as much."
"They said they saw a woman matching your description in the woods at the base of the mountain, a dragon being resurrected right in front of her."
Fianna felt the strings of panic and trepidation pulling at her as his grey eyes seemed to look within her inner soul and try to search out the secrets hidden there. With sheer willpower she forced no emotion to show on her face and answered calmly, "Are you accusing me of resurrecting dragons, Wolf?"
His probing gaze refused to release her. "I'm asking you what happened."
She tore her gaze from his and stared straight ahead. "I was in the woods collecting firewood. A dragon came to life right out of the ground in front of me. It flew away and attacked the town."
"Did you see someone?"
"No. But it was dark." Her eyes flickered to his for only a second. "I know I should have helped the town. But Drake was in the cave. I ran as fast as I could to protect him."
Wolf nodded, but continued to stare at her, his gaze still searching, as if he was waiting for her to say more.
"How are dragons being resurrected?" she asked. "I thought the Dragonborn killed Alduin?"
His face was carved from stone, his lips flat and tight. "The Dragonborn destroyed Alduin's physical form, but not his soul."
Her head tilted to the side. "How is that possible?"
His chin tucked, grey orbs hardening to granite. "We believe something or someone absorbed Alduin's soul and is now resurrecting dragons to continue Alduin's work."
"And what is that?"
"World annihilation." One of Wolf's dark eyebrows lifted in a cynical arc. "He's not called the World-Eater for nothing."
Fianna looked away from him with a grimace, guilt shredding her insides.
"Do not worry," Wolf supplied casually after seeing her troubled reaction to his words. "I am tasked to find the creature that absorbed Alduin's soul and destroy it. Such an abomination cannot be allowed to exist."
"I would think such a task would be the Dragonborn's?" she asked tightly.
His top lip curled. "The Dragonborn has abandoned Skyrim. She cares not for our plight, only for herself." His eyes glittered with a sardonic light as they met hers. "Do not put your hope in the Dragonborn, Fianna, for she will bring you nothing but disappointment. I, however, will not hide like a coward while my home is threatened and my people are burned by dragon fire," his guttural voice was hard and bitter and brimming with icy contempt. "I have the ability to destroy Alduin once and for all, and I will be damned sure to succeed where the Dragonborn failed, or die trying."
Though he didn't know it, his words cut into her like knives. Fianna swallowed the heavy emotions that threatened to choke her down like a piece of broken glass. "You take on a heavy burden."
An ominous scowl darkened his sharply cut features as he searched her concealed face with penetrating grey eyes. "I'd take on anything to protect what is mine."
Trotting along side her horse, Meeko began to growl, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. A noise from very close made her jump, startling the horse she rode. Her senses were raw. Open. Straining. She felt the movement of the air over her head like a caress on her cheek, like a finger drawn down her spine.
"What was that?" she whispered urgently.
Wolf's body was tensed on his black stallion, ready for attack, his eyes searching the open field that surrounded them as they continued to ride forward on their mounts.
Another noise from behind made her look over her shoulder. "Do you hear that?"
Wolf gave one sharp nod before flinging his black wool mantle back over his shoulder, freeing his best sword arm and the hilt of his weapon.
There it was again, a disturbance in the air, like a sigh from the air above her. A brush. A rush. A shadow. Something flew over her head, so close that it blew the hood of her cloak back to reveal her Dark Brotherhood cowl that covered her hair. There was a flap of wings, swooping, soaring, falling faster than leaves blown in the wind.
Fianna's heart jolted. Her eyes popped open. Her head snapped up. Her eyes searched the skies. Her mouth fell open behind her mask as she saw two massive, red and black-scaled torsos flying over her head.
"Dragons!" she cried in warning.
"Take the boy and hide, I will draw them from you!" Wolf ordered and, with a touch of his heels, sent his horse into a gallop, his sword in his hand.
The two dragons overhead each let loose an ear-piercing roar. Snowball reared back in fear, hooves flailing, and Fianna and Drake were both thrown from the horse. She pulled him to her and curled her body around him, protecting him, shielding his small body with her own while he screamed in terror as they fell to the ground.
Fianna's back hit the ground hard, and there was a loud crack as her skull slammed against a rock. Pain exploded behind her eyes and white-hot agony shot through her body. She groaned, seeing nothing but black dots spotting her vision, the pain in her head excruciating.
She couldn't hear Drake. She didn't feel him move in her arms. Was he hurt? Oh gods, her baby!
Fianna tried to look at Drake in her arms, held defensively to her, but her vision remained filled with nothing but little black dots. She tried to speak, to ask Drake if he was alright, but the words came out jumbled and incoherent. She tried to sit up, to check him for injuries, but her body wouldn't move.
Lying helplessly on the ground, Fianna could hear the sound of the dragons roaring and the sound of fire being breathed in the distance, but she saw nothing as her vision remained impaired. As she lay there, praying to the gods that Drake was alright, Fianna heard a Battle Cry rent the air, which smelled of fire and smoke. There was the sound of a sword slicing through the air and the following piercing scream of a dragon in pain before the coppery scent of blood traveled on the wind to her nose.
"Commander?! Is that you?!" Fianna heard a male voice yell in the distance. "We saw the fire and smoke so close to the fortress and came to investigate. Thank the gods we did. By Talos, we'd thought you'd gotten captured again by them dragon lovers. Damn glad to see you alive and in one piece, sir!"
"You three, get the woman and the child into the keep! Now!" she heard Wolf order in his guttural voice over the roar of a dragon.
"Yes, sir!" Three male voices echoed in unison.
"Watch the tail!" She heard Wolf shout in warning, but heard nothing else as panic and fear rose to choke her. Her throat closed as if a hand had locked around it. She could barely breathe as a slowly dawning horror overcame her.
They're going to take us to the Blades fortress.
Fianna fought the dread that threatened to rob her of her last strength.
No! Not the keep! We can't go there! Oh gods! Anywhere but there! Oh no! No, no, no! Fianna thought frantically, pulling Drake's limp body protectively to her before she slipped into the waiting darkness. May the gods have mercy on us.
Author's Note: This chapter has a soundtrack: Always In My Head by Coldplay. You can hear the whole song for free on YouTube.