Chapter 19

Arnbjorn

*I don't own Skyrim, but I do own Juheena and Juheena owns Farkas.*

Sorry it took me so long to update guys, I had major writers block! But I'm back now, and will be updating frequently again :D

Arnbjorn unsheathed his sword as he entered the catacombs. Skeletons of various creatures littered the cobblestone floor and rattled when he kicked them. The only sound was his footsteps, which seemed to echo on forever down the tunnels.

"Damn it…" He cursed angrily when he stepped on a pressure plate. He waited for the barrage. Would it be poison darts? Spears? A cascade of rocks?

But there was nothing. Nothing apparent, that is.

He decided to carefully move on, keeping his eyes out for the outcome of his mishap. Perhaps the pressure plate was no longer functioning, or the trap rusted. Still, it could happen at any time. The next room was overgrown with trees, and a brilliant light shone down through a stained glass window in the roof. Flowers grew in the humid air.

Dragging his eyes along the walls, he took in ancient carvings depicting Potema the Wolf Queen, Kynareth, and Tiber Septim ascending into Sovrngarde, transforming into Talos. He whistled at Potema's intricate dress, thinking how long it would take to carve such a thing.

He whirled around, hearing something coming. His eyes darted to each entrance, then to the window. Nothing. There was nothing there.

But there was. Somewhere.

But where?

He held his war axe high, waiting. One minute, then two. It must have just been a squirrel, or some other creature in one of the trees, he told himself. The leaves sparkled blue in the light from the stained glass.

He moved on, slowly and on alert, step by step. Inch by inch. He passed through doors, in and out of shrines, until he came to a courtyard. The trees were bloodied and covered in corpses. Deep axe marks marred the branches. No.. they weren't axe marks. They were Hagraven claw marks.

Arnbjorn paled.

He wasn't afraid of many things, but the Hagravens were one of those things that could frighten a dragon off with one glance. Hell, Alduin himself probably preferred to keep his distance from the old witches.

He picked up a bloody feather. He pocketed it for Juheena, on the off chance that he survived this encounter.

Searching the bodies, he found who once was Amaund Motierre. His face was a grisly sight. His eyes were missing. Arnbjorn didn't care to think about their new purpose. In Motierre's knapsack, Arnbjorn found a letter, a gold diamond necklace, and a bank account ledger for 20,000 gold from the Solitude Bank of Hjaalmarch.

He whistled once again at the number on the ledger. Well, Motierre wouldn't be needing it now. They would be fulfilling the contract either way.

He decided that since he had all Motierre wanted in the letter, and in a journal he found, he would leave before it was too late. He turned on his heel and headed for the stone archway at a sprint. Spiky grass sliced at his leather leggings, barely making a mark, but stinging through anyway. His long, greying hair got in his eyes, but he didn't bother to brush it away. No time.

He got to the stone arch, relieved.

With an ear-splitting screech, an old Hagraven dropped from the rafters a few feet from him. The Hag's claws were the size of sickles, and her dirty, matted grey hair nearly touched the floor. Her teeth, long, black and sharp, bared when the hag hissed.

"Hello, Moonborn. What a nice surprise…a snack for me and my sisters…." The old Hag cackled as two more Hagravens appeared behind her in a puff of black smoke. They started closing in on him. Arnbjorn stood rooted to the spot. Literally. Black thorns tore out of the ground and wrapped around the Werewolf's ankles, piercing and digging into the skin.

He cried out in pain, then started to panic. He only just got Juheena back, and now they would be parted again.

No. They wouldn't, he decided, and took an iron dagger from his boot and threw it at the Hagraven in the front, effectively slicing her head off. Her sisters stared at the disembodied head for a few seconds, then in a horrible rage, lunged at Arnbjorn.

"Sister!" They shrieked. All the birds for miles fled away from the barrow. Hissing and squawking, the hunched-over Hagraven slashed her claws at his chest. He moved away, but not before she could snag his armor. The thorns at his feet snapped, making him hit the ground. He clutched his chest when he saw the blood begin to pool at the torn fabric.

The Hagraven muttered a spell, then pointed at him menacingly. He rose off the ground. Cackling, she threw him across the courtyard. He slammed into the wall, hitting his head. The last thing he saw before he blacked out, was the Hagravens closing in on him.

Goodbye, daughter, he thought. Then the world went black.

XXxxOxxOxxXX

"I swear, you smelly mutt. You gain a pound of muscle a day." Arnbjorn tried to open his eyes to see for himself. He had to make sure. Because he thought that was Astrid's voice.

A wave of pain spread throughout his head, making him cry out.

"Whoa, whoa…easy there…it's okay." It was. He was sure it was Astrid.

"A-astrid?" He managed to choke out.

"It's me Arnbjorn, I'm here." Thank the Nine. It was her. He almost didn't believe it. It couldn't be her, for she sounded gentle…like his Astrid. Like she loved him again. He had to open his eyes and see her. His Astrid.

He blinked a few times. Then his eyes focused on the most beautiful sight. Astrid smiling. Not a hateful smile, not a smirk or snarl. A genuine smile.

"Hey there. How was your date with the Hagravens?"

"Astrid…." He touched her lips. She kissed his fingertips.

"Try not to talk too much, you got beaten up pretty bad. I thought dogs were supposed to eat birds."

"I wouldn't eat one of those damned Hagravens if you held me at knife-point over a pit of lava." He groaned.

Astrid smiled again. It almost made the pain go away, if only for a second. "I love you Astrid." He said. He didn't want their love to be over. She had made him angry, ignored him for years. But now…. This was enough to redeem what he had given up on.

"I know, you old fleabag. I love you too. Why else would I follow you around and save your mangy skin?"

"You…?"

"Yes, I followed you." She rolled her eyes, "I was pissed off after our little...disagreement. I was intending on confronting you, or humiliating you. But then I saw you get tossed like a chew toy, and I knew I couldn't let you die. If you die, I will be the one to kill you. Not some nasty old beaked woman who needs to trim her fingernails."

They chuckled. Astrid leaned in and placed a kiss on his forehead. She then wrung out a soapy wet rag and began to wash his face gently. It was then he realized something. He was naked. He sent her a questioning look, to which she replied, "I was in the process of cleaning Hagraven goo from you when you woke up. I killed one and she kind of blew up on you." She laughed when he visibly blanched.

She washed his hair, and after she rinsed his hair by pouring a pitcher of warm water through it, she helped him up and walked him over to the bed with fresh, clean linens. When he was laid down, he motioned for her to lay next to him.

He put his arms around her and smelled her hair. She must have bathed herself too, for she smelled of perfume. The same rosy scent as when they got married.

"I love you Astrid." He said.

"I love you too, you smelly old mutt."