Chapter Ten-Wolf Queen
Solitude perched on the high headland overlooking the harbor in the Sea of Ghosts. A broad spine of stone arched from the bluff to a tall pinnacle of rock, forming a natural bridge that had been paved over, walled and built on. The Blue Palace was constructed upon this enviably defensible position, regally surveying the docks and ships below.
Laurelin, the twins and new recruit Keiran walked into town later the next day. Making straight for the Winking Skeever, they rented rooms and ordered baths and hot food. As soon as they were bathed and fed, Laure gave Farkas a sack of gold and asked him to take the whelp with him while he sold off the loot from the bandit camp and to assure Keiran had adequate armor and weapons. She and Vilkas headed up to the Blue Palace to convene with Falk Firebeard before it got too late. The guards recognized her and Vilkas now and waved them through without halting them. Falk was plainly glad to see them, hurrying over and pulling them aside, a worried frown on his normally smiling face.
"It is well that you have returned. I was hoping the courier would find you quickly. As it turned out, Styrr, our priest of Arkay, believes you halted the summoning ritual, but the Wolf Queen was not actually destroyed; and now Potema makes her bid to return to the realm of the living. Do you know much of her history, Harbinger?"
"Enough to know Potema returned is a catastrophe. How can we help?"
"Styrr claims that your involvement in the disruption of her summoning has created a connection between you somehow. I trust his judgment on this. We have encountered some of her minions and believe she is gathering her forces in the catacombs under the city. You should speak to Styrr; he can give you more information and guidance.
"Anything else you can tell me about Potema would be useful."
"She was ruthless, brilliant and utterly insane. She raised armies of undead during her twenty-year-long war for the Emperor's throne. We're lucky she isn't back in the mortal world completely yet, or we'd all be dead already. What more can I tell you? Be careful, but I'm sure you know this."
"Well then, we will go to the Hall of the Dead and speak with Styrr. Good day, Falk. We'll talk more when we return." Laure turned to leave, Vilkas following a step behind.
"Gods grant it be so, Dragonborn," prayed the steward.
Trotting quickly down the road to the Hall of the Dead, Laurelin and Vilkas didn't speak, both thinking on the dangers they would soon face. They entered the Hall and were greeted by the gray-bearded priest of Arkay. Laure introduced herself and Vilkas, then explained, "Falk Firebeard sent us. We understand you can tell us more about Potema."
"Of course. As you may have surmised, someone was trying to raise and bind the Wolf Queen for some dire experiment. You interrupted the ritual, but Potema Septim has been summoned in spirit form. However, she was not fully raised from the dead; she will require help before she returns to the land of the living. For now, she lurks in a place where the dead eagerly serve her—her old catacombs."
"I see. What is it we need to do?"
"A few days ago some of her minions broke through a wall in the basement of the Temple of the Divines. She will undoubtedly have vampires and undead serving her; they must be destroyed. She herself has no corporeal body, but you will need to defeat her spirit manifestation before she obtains one. Of course, if you find any of her physical remains in the crypts, then I ask you bring them to me. If I can bless them and perform the proper rituals, we should be able to avoid further recurrences."
"How can we access the catacombs, from here in the Hall?"
"Oh no, there is an entrance downstairs in the Temple of the Divines. Take this key; it will open the gates to the catacombs. From there, I can offer little further information, but if you have any craft in magic, I have a spell tome that might be useful."
Laure nodded and accepted the key and the book. "My thanks; I will study this tonight. We will get an early start tomorrow unless you think we should leave immediately. It was a long journey from Whiterun."
"A fresh start is always a good idea. Blessings on you, Dragonborn, and to you, Vilkas of the Companions."
A short time later, Laure and Vilkas found Farkas and Keiran in the common room of the Winking Skeever, tucking into another hot meal. The two latecomers pulled up a chair and ordered drinks.
"How did it go? Are we all doomed?" Farkas inquired around a mouthful of apple and cabbage stew.
"Not yet, we aren't. It went well, but we'll talk later when we have a bit more privacy. Now, what's on the menu?" Laure glanced into Farkas' bowl and cringed. "Surely we can afford to eat something other than that slop..." Vilkas pinched her bum and she threw a mildly threatening glance over her shoulder. "What? It looks like it should go to the goats. That can't taste good, can it?" Keiran shook his head slightly but kept his eyes down and continued spooning the soup into his mouth at a steady pace. Farkas offered her a spoonful with a wicked grin on his handsome face, but Laure leaned away, shaking her head.
"You won't know if it's good or not until you try it, love. Just taste some," urged Vilkas with a smile to match his brothers.
"Nope, sorry. It smells like boiled socks. I'll order something else." She made her way to the bar and sweet-talked the innkeeper, Corpulus, into a plate of fresh salmon, a few eggs, and some soft goat cheese. Making her way back to the table, she quelled her rising nervousness and anticipation over the upcoming battle. Come what may, she was loving the idea of taking on the Wolf Queen herself—or rather her incorporeal spirit manifestation. However it was with the undead former queen of Solitude, Potema would be a worthy challenge.
A quick glance around the table showed matching excitement from the twins, but Keiran was still understandably nervous. "Don't worry, whelp. Listen to directions, and you should make it through this alive. I'll explain what we're up against in a while, but for now, we relax and don't think about anything but good food and company. Even if it's only for a short while." She and Vilkas settled into their now-customary arrangement of her sprawled or perched in some way on his lap while they fed each other bits of food, poked, prodded, kissed and harassed each other to distraction. Farkas did everything he could to goad them both on.
Keiran watched quietly, not sure what to make of the Companions at all, certain that in spite of her assurances, they were going to die horribly sometime tomorrow. Then he had a sudden flash of two nights prior, the secret these three had allowed him to share. Were they going to turn him as well? Shit, and knee deep in it, he thought.
The Harbinger, leaning comfortably back in her lover's arms, accepted another mug from Farkas and tipped back the last few drops in her old one. Vilkas and his brother were chatting quietly now, having spent the earlier part of the evening telling stories about the Companions. Keiran felt eyes on him and met the chilly gaze of the Dragonborn. She quirked a smile his way and crossed her legs.
"So whelp, how many years were you a bandit?" she wanted to know.
He thought back a moment, then quietly answered, "Four years now. I left the mines when I was twenty-six."
"So do you have a family somewhere that is missing you?"
"You could say that, I suppose. My ma, she's still in Markarth. She's a seamstress. Da disappeared years ago in the war. Never had any brothers or sisters; Ma never could remarry."
"Were you lonely without much family?" Laure wanted to know.
"Never knew any other way to be. I was always busy anyway, running errands for Ma, helping her with washing and cooking. Whatever it took to put food on the table." He drained his mug and set it down. Farkas edged a full one over the table.
"Drink up, new blood. You know, Vilkas and me grew up without our parents too. It ain't easy wondering if they're going to come walking back into our lives someday. We were told they were killed, but no one really knew for sure. But we were raised by the best man I ever knew, so I guess that makes up for it, eh?" Farkas raised his mug and shouted, "For Kodlak!"
Laure and Vilkas lifted theirs as well, calling out, "Kodlak!" Keiran boldly followed, even though he had no idea who this Kodlak was. When three werewolves sitting at his table wanted to toast someone, Keiran drank.
They toasted Kodlak a few more times, as well as another man named Skjor, Ysgramor, and Ysmir-which had the twins giggling into their sleeves when they saw the hard stares the Harbinger was giving them.
Keiran had to ask finally, "What is so funny? Why does she look like we're on the menu?"
Vilkas leaned around his mate and whispered loudly, "She's the Dragonborn. The Greybeards claim she's Ysmir reborn. We like to tease her about growing a beard so we can swear by it like we used to."
Keiran's eyes flew to Laurelin, who winked and ran her fingers through an imaginary beard. They're insane was his last coherent thought for a while.
Nearly stumbling up the stairs, Keiran followed Farkas into the Harbinger and Vilkas' room. It had been an eternity it seemed since he had last been this warm, well dressed, well fed and pleasantly drunk. Now it seemed he was to get a few more answers.
They all grabbed seats or, in Farkas' case, sprawled on the cool, stone floor. Laurelin cleared her throat and began, "We are going under Solitude to the catacombs. We can expect some powerful undead minions-vampires, draugr and the like. What is more, these undead serve and are trying to resurrect Queen Potema from the dead. Falk Firebeard of the Blue Palace had Vilkas and me go into a cave not too long ago to take out some necromancers, and we disrupted a ritual that was supposed to bind her spirit. She wasn't bound, but neither was she destroyed or dismissed. She is now making a bid to re-enter the world of the living. Needless to say, she must be stopped. Everything I've read indicates that she was quite deranged before she died; I doubt things have improved much in the last few centuries. Questions?"
Vilkas and Farkas both shrugged and kept quiet. Keiran couldn't believe how casually they were all taking this, but she was the Dragonborn, and they were Companions, powerful warriors all.
"Are we talking hordes of undead here, or just a few? And is it just the four of us going down there?" he finally asked.
"Somewhere in between would be my guess. She hasn't been back on this plane for long, but she seems to be moving quickly. And yes, just the four of us. Too big a party is cumbersome in the tunnels and crypts. Most of the filth we'll encounter have little intelligence left to them and are easy to destroy. Which reminds me, I have this book I need to study. Being able to turn undead could be useful. Oh, don't scowl at me, Vilkas. Some magic is good. Did Farkas see to your gear and weapons, whelp?"
Keiran nodded and smiled, indicating his new sword and boots. "The rest is in the room I share with tall, dark and passed out on your floor, there." His gaze dipped down to where Farkas had an arm thrown over his eyes and seemed to be dozing.
"Mm'not passed out, whelp. I could take you laying down if I wanted to. Wait, that sounded wrong. Never mind; I'm awake." He pushed himself up and sauntered out the door, giving Keiran a meaningful glance. "C'mon, early start tomorrow, and I'm sure the lovebirds over there want some quality time alone." The tall, redheaded newblood followed Farkas out the door, nodding to the two remaining in the room.
In the room they shared, he asked Farkas, "Are they always so, ah..."
"Attached lip and hip, yeah. Get used to it. Don't let them as they are when they're relaxing fool you, though; none of us messes around in a fight." They both dropped onto their beds and tugged off boots, hung scabbards up over the posts of the beds, then lay back on soft cushions. Keiran's breathing evened out quickly, soft snores almost drowning out the muffled moans of Vilkas and Laurelin that later reached Farkas' sharp ears.
Now he finally understood a little more Vilkas' earlier frustration when Laure had been new to the Companions and spending a good deal of time in his room, in his arms. Nothing for it though; his brother was happy, and so was she. Oblivion could swallow him up before he would interfere.
The sky wasn't even light yet, and she wasn't ready to pull herself from bed. She mumbled and reached for Vilkas' arm, pulling it closer around her, bumping back against his chest. Farkas' gravelly voice sounded right over her again, gently prodding her awake.
"Laure, wake up. It's almost dawn, we should get moving, yeah?"
"No, not ready yet, another hour, sweetheart. We'll go sledding later."
"Laure, it's me, Farkas. Wake up." He reached over and pushed the hair off her forehead, ran a blunt fingertip over the angle of her jaw and up to tug lightly at her earlobe. She smiled and blinked slowly, finally stirring.
"Morning, you sexy beast. Are you sure it's time to get up?" She nuzzled his hand affectionately.
"Sadly it is. I know how much old ladies need their beauty sleep..."
"Oh you're making old lady jokes now too? All right, young cub, I want two eggs scrambled, seared slaughterfish and fresh chicken livers. Hop to it, boy." Laure stretched then flipped over and burrowed her face into Vilkas' bare chest. Farkas chuckled quietly and admired the fine view of her naked behind that was exposed when she shifted in the furs.
"Well, I guess from this point of view you look young enough. So, seriously it's time to get up. I can go order breakfast if you really want all that crap though. Vilkas, you want something?"
"Porridge and eggs sound good. We'll be down soon." Vilkas waved as his brother left their room. His large hand reached around Laure and slapped her arse. "Wake up, lazy. Last one with their boots on buys breakfast." He flipped himself over her and grabbed his trousers and tunic, scrambling into them. He tugged his tunic over his head and saw his mate still laying on the bed, completely naked but for her boots, buckles hanging loosely.
"You're awfully slow for a young guy, love. So about breakfast..." Her suggestive wicked smile was infuriating and intoxicating as well.
"You are way too old and wise to be such a cheater, darling...that's not what I meant-" he swallowed thickly as she ran a long finger over the curve of her hip.
"Wish you'd thought to put your boots on first?"
"Aye—how did you do that? I didn't even hear you move." He grinned, knowing very well how. He had watched her stalk prey countless times now, and she was far and away the stealthiest person he had ever met.
"I'm the sneaky type, you know."
"I'm hardly likely to forget. Since you cheated we should split breakfast."
"Tell you what, I'll buy. It will be worth the memory of the expression on your face. Priceless!" she laughed, then shook her boots off and rolled from the bed. "I think it's going to be a great day to send an undead lunatic back to her final rest, aye?"
"It's always a good day for such." They were pulling clothes and armor on as they chatted, an activity that sometimes had a few setbacks when they started undressing each other rather than pulling more on. Still, a quarter hour after Farkas had first roused them, they finally made it downstairs, flushed and smiling but dressed and ready to get started.
Keiran and Farkas were sitting at a large table laden with a variety of dishes, sampling several things at once. Laure and Vilkas set themselves down and started piling their platters, eating quickly. Between the four of them, there were few leftovers when they were done. They grabbed gear packed earlier and headed out the front door and up toward Castle Dour's crenelated walls.
Tucked into a corner of the castle was the Temple of the Divines, where one could go and pray to any of the eight accepted gods. Laurelin didn't have much use for religion, but she had been known to say the occasional prayer, and the empty shrine to Talos in the middle of the elaborately decorated niches bothered her. If people wanted to worship a worn boot with no laces, then that should be their choice. But that wasn't why she was here. A helpful priest directed them downstairs, where they found a locked gate barring their way. Laure opened it, ushered them all through, then re-locked it behind them. The priest waved from the other side of the bars.
"Divines bless you all, and guide your blades." His hands raised, the man prayed until the four were out of sight, then returned to his regular duties. Privately, he prayed they wouldn't be back as shambling undead, groaning and shrieking at the gates.
They crept through the broken wall down a few rough stairs, then followed a roughly hewn tunnel, weapons drawn, or in Laurelin's case, arrow notched. She paused in front, throwing a warning glance over her shoulder. Vilkas heard her whisper something in another tongue and she froze, panning her gaze around. He'd seen her use this Shout once before and knew it revealed life energies to her. She crept closer to the three men, breathing out, "There are some right around the corner. I'll take the ones I can get with the bow; when I fall back, you guys flank whoever is left if you can and take them out quickly. Keiran, keep your distance from the vamps, we don't need you turning into one on us."
"You're not worried about getting turned?"
"Our beast blood protects us from the taint. Just pay attention and don't try to be a hero."
"Sure, Harbinger. I follow your lead." They slipped around the corner, coming face to face with a barred passage and a relief carving of the Wolf Queen. As they approached the bars, a resonant feminine voice spoke out of the empty air.
"You've arrived at last. The heroine who prevented me from being bound returns to my fold. I have much to thank you for, little one. When you die, I will raise you and you can take your place by my side." Abruptly, the bars slid down into the floor and opened the way forward.
They were all jumpy as it was and swore quietly while the spirit addressed Laure. The hair on the nape of her neck stood on end, though she defiantly muttered, "I hardly think it likely, though you might try." She edged onward and shot the first draugr, sending it flying further into the chamber. Vilkas and Farkas swarmed forward and sliced it to bits in a few seconds.
Without hesitation they turned and cut into a fledgling vampire, who tried to use magic on them and learned quickly it was best to not. Farkas was caught in the pale lightning forking from her hands, but while she was busy electrocuting one, the other leaped forward and broke her neck with a powerful strike, then kicked her to the ground and ran his sword through her heart.
Farkas crashed to the floor for a moment and then bounded right back up, striding over to kick the pile of ash apart furiously. "Fucking hurt, but now who's laughing?"
"You all right, brother?"
"Fine, I just don't like how the lightning locks everything up, can't breathe, heart stops. It's not natural. Lets get moving, huh?"
Keiran mostly let the three sweep the tunnels and caves, realizing that he would be in the way more often than not. He did observe closely, seeing the dynamic style this trio of fighters had. They never lost sight of each other and seemed to have worked out a shortened battle language that let the others know positions of enemies, numbers, forthcoming attacks and any number of details. That was fine, except the language seemed to be comprised of whistles, yips, raised eyebrows and epithets. The newblood couldn't quite wrap his head around the strangest group of people he had met. He did find several opportunities to help out when the numbers of enemies became overwhelming, his blade destroying several draugr and one floundering vampire that tried to sneak up on Vilkas after the man had swept by.
They fought their way through catacombs, puzzle doors that rotated heavy plates of stone, huge numbers of the undead, and fire traps powered by soul gems. Periodically, the voice of Potema would croon out threats and promises, always accompanied by a new horde of undead minions. Before long they began to tire, and Vilkas suggested they fall back a bit and take a short rest. They found a likely spot that they were able to use a few minutes back the way they had come, and they settled to the dusty floor to patch up wounds, drink water and eat a bite or two.
Laure went around healing everyone, including herself, before resting. Sitting down finally, she rested her back up against her mate's. His warmth radiated into her body and took away the chill of the stones, the unnatural cold of animated dead. "Wouldn't it be fun to take out the Wolf Queen in our wolf shapes?" wondered Laure, smiling at Farkas not far away. His answering grin was almost frightening as he glanced up from under his dark, heavy brows, teeth white and sharp looking in the flickering light.
"As entertaining as that might be, we should probably try to keep our heads on straight," Vilkas replied. "We don't know how many more of her minions we face. I'd like for all of us to make it out of here alive." His fingers slipped over his shoulder to stroke the back of her head, and she leaned back into his touch.
Farkas shrugged; he didn't usually argue with his brother when it came to tactics. Keiran was relieved; he had no desire to be trapped underground with three bloodthirsty werewolves, no matter that they were on his side. He figured his chances of survival were nothing if even one of them lost control for so much as a heartbeat.
Finally, they pushed themselves up, to get away from the bone-chilling cold of the stones as much as to finish the job. Laure carried Dawnbreaker unsheathed, appreciative of the warm light the sword radiated from its circular crossguard. Far and away her favorite new weapon, the token of Meridia had proven to be a mighty asset as she battled the undead of Skyrim's crypts and barrows. Destroying necromancers and any form of animated dead had become a bit of a hobby. Things that grossly disturbed or violated the natural order of the Cycle of Life bothered Laure to such a degree that she found herself almost as compelled to fight them as dragons. Or perhaps, some of her compulsion to take down the resurrected dragons was because they should have remained in their graves.
Her deepest belief was that the energy of life is meant to exist for a while, then to move on, to share experiences and knowledge, loves and griefs with a vast pool of previous beings, that pool being what spawned the next generations. To fear death was to fear progress, and to seek to alter the natural course was to also deny the beauty of experience for what it was. It was also robbing all the future beings of the richness that could be shared but was denied by those who dabbled in necromancy. She couldn't understand the greed for power, nor the fear of what comes after.
She didn't want to die, but she accepted it could come any day, at any hour. Fight it though she might, the truth was she didn't know when she would face a foe who could destroy her. All she could do was take reasonable precautions, pray for guidance, and hone her skills to the highest degree she could. Nothing less, nothing more.
There were also the Companions, who had accepted her into their ranks and made her feel welcome. Her faith in her shield-siblings was unshakable, knowing they had her back as much as she had theirs was a comfort in these uncertain times. She glanced over her shoulder at her mate and dearest friend. His pale eyes were bright in the dimness, full of determination and eagerness.
Quelling the growls of her wolf spirit that rose when she looked upon her mate like that, she turned back to the hallway. Barred doorways were now open and they strode forward, no longer skulking but openly hunting.
Potema's voice echoed around them again, "You've come far, mortals, but can you stand against my inner council? Let's see!" Shining through the next doorway was a familiar blue and lavender swirl of energy. Tendrils of it were spiraling around the room, some leaping across sarcophagi, awakening the occupants, other beams crackling with electricity.
"Keiran, this is where it gets messy. Stay back in this passageway and drink this potion; it will protect you from shock damage for a while. The draugr with the horned helms can usually Shout, but they aren't the only ones who can. If they so much as open their mouths, you need to take cover. Or get down low; they like to knock you around if they can. Questions?" The newest recruit shook his head and shrugged. "Good. Farkas and my love, you know what you do best. May the gods watch over our battles," a prayer that was echoed by the three men.
She quickly kissed Vilkas, and then all four of them spread out, waiting for the first half dozen draugr to push their way through the doorway. The first handful went down easily to the keen blades of the Companions, but there were already more shuffling closer.
Several of the draugr they had already cut down were struggling to their feet again as the tendrils of energy suspended in the next room licked over the corpses again. "Getting crowded in here Laure. Back up or move in?" Farkas wanted to know.
Laure sliced his opponent once then twirled away. "We should move in before we can't get past the door. Mind the electricity; it seems to travel around the room." She cleared the doorway with her own Shout of "Fus Ro...Dah!" sending several weaker draugr flying back across the large room to smash into the far walls. More were shoving out of sarcophagi, though, and finding their way over the uneven floor while the swirling energy trailed over the stones.
The Companions rushed into the large crypt, slashing with blades, trying to take out as many foes as possible before the streams of shock energy completed the rotation about the room. Laure glanced around, and a quick estimate had over a dozen draugr up and bearing down on the four of them. As soon as none of her friends were in the way, she set a large cluster of enemies on fire with a Shout, "Yol Toor!" Then she danced through the smoldering undead still standing, cutting with Dawnbreaker.
Laure and Vilkas took the center of the room, battling an even half dozen undead, but looked to be handling it. Keiran danced around a fallen pillar, taunting the draugr that tried to hack him down with a black-bladed ax. The loud ringing of another draugr falling to Dawnbreaker filled the room, a purple disc of energy expanded outward, and several of the remaining undead fell, the evil enchantments keeping them mobile shattered forever, including the one Keiran fought.
Potema screamed in wordless fury, then ordered, "Rip their eyes from their heads. Make them suffer for defying my will!" The swirl of lightning picked up the pace, but it struck her own minions as often as the Companions. Although the spell was powerful, and painful when caught in it, Potema didn't seem capable of directing it. Taking the shocks with the regular blows and Shouts of the draugr, the four of them whittled down the Wolf Queen's minions over the next few moments.
Finally the last one fell, and no more rose to challenge them again. Laure glanced around. Everyone was scorched, bleeding from any number of wounds, hair on end from the charged air of the room. The hovering spirit retreated from the room to a smaller chamber beyond, taking much of the light as it fled.
Laure quickly went around healing her shield-siblings before asking, "Ready to finish this, darlings?"
"Let's get moving," Vilkas replied. "Who knows what other foul sorcery she's cooking up in there?" Farkas shrugged and nodded. Keiran tightened a gauntlet and nodded. They swarmed up the short flight of stairs to the arch Potema had disappeared through. Pushing their way into the small room, they were confronted by the translucent form of Potema. Her spirit had a skeletal aspect, though it wore fine looking robes. She was seated on a throne, see-through skeletal fingers curved around the arm rests, a leer on her bony face, and an ethereal crown on her head. Across her knees rested a dark sword, unsheathed and solid.
None of them wasted words, all four Companions spreading out to encircle her, swords raised and on guard. The spirit stood, raising her blade in a salute, then suddenly the small room was uncomfortably crowded as she summoned a frost atronach with a mad cackle.
The atronach began swinging its jagged arms around, driving Laure and Farkas up against a wall, while Vilkas and Keiran engaged Potema, who had helpfully raised another few draugr as well. Lightning flickered out of the Wolf Queen's fingers, raking across everyone in the room, while her insane taunts rose in volume.
Dawnbreaker didn't do much extra damage to the frost atronach, but Farkas seemed to be holding his own for a moment, so Laure took an instant to summon her own flame atronach and let the two elemental beings sort it out, freeing Farkas and herself to engage Potema. Running a freshly raised draugr through with her glowing sword, Laure chuckled as it exploded and turned to ash, the magic racing out to overcome the other two undead, who were pushing into Keiran's and Vilkas' flanks, while Potema lashed them all with lightning.
Farkas, pissed by the lightning and ready to be done with the stench of the place, leaped in, only to be knocked aside by the massive arm of Potema's atronach. Vilkas appeared in front of his brother, blocking a powerful downward chop that would have impaled Farkas, his arms straining to absorb then deflect the blow.
Bolts of fire slammed into the giant, walking slab of ice, causing the faceless point of its head to shift. Vilkas roared in fury and heaved the glittering sharp arm of the frost creature aside, then used his momentum to pivot behind it and carve out chip after chip from its rear. The bigger Nord rolled to his feet, bringing his sword up, and he and Vilkas circled it, chopping and hacking, using the confusion to keep it guessing.
Laure and Keiran were trying to flank Potema's spirit, but the crafty woman seemed capable of avoiding almost any strike by Dawnbreaker. She had already absorbed several blows from Keiran's sword and didn't seem bothered much, but she danced away from Laure's undead scourge frantically.
Keiran ran her through again and got shocked for his trouble. The redhead dropped to one knee, chest spasming, and Laure could tell he couldn't draw breath. Potema moved forward, unable to ignore the apparent weakness of the man shaking in front of her. The ghostly woman slipped forward and swung her blade, intending to end another nuisance, but Keiran managed to drop and roll away from the strike, parrying weakly.
A strangled gurgle came instead of the expected pain of being stabbed. Keiran focused on the sight in front of him and saw the bright light of Dawnbreaker eating away at the apparition of Potema's midriff. Through the wavering outline, he could make out the wicked smile on his Harbinger's face as she twisted her sword, wringing a howl of agony from the Wolf Queen. Suddenly the spirit lost its form, becoming an amorphous mist which swirled around a skull sitting on the throne, settling into the bone with a quiet hiss.
The frost atronach was dispelled, leaving a chilly mist behind. The twins glanced about, weapons still up. Laure was edging up to the throne when a loud laugh rang out and the ghostly remains of Potema burst out of the skull once more.
"Fuck me sideways, this bitch is getting on my nerves!" Laure gasped as she dodged aside. Her flame atronach fired a few more bolts then expired in a brief explosion. She contemplated summoning another but was busy dodging the Wolf Queen's furious assault. Potema was entirely focused on Laurelin, so the three men flanked the ghost, taking carefully timed swipes, whittling her down while her attention was on the mer.
Their attacks were slowly weakening her, they could see this much; but Laure was hard pressed now, the insane ghost attacking with every trick she had. With her three shield-siblings so close, Laure couldn't comfortably use most of her Shouts, but a Word she had only recently acquired hummed in her mind, the souls of the dragons she had consumed whispering advice. That might do the trick...
She took a breath and her Thu'um filled the room again, a single word, "Su!" Laure felt her muscles suffused with an intense amount of energy and strength and felt quick as the lightning Potema had lashed them all with. Knowing this would be a short-lived boost, Laure slashed out with her sword, driving the warm light through Potema's chest, then pulled back, bashing several times with her shield. The specter turned as if to flee but came face to face with the other three Companions. Using the last bit of speed from her Shout, Laure ran her blade through Potema twice more, and with a cry, the Wolf Queen's spirit exploded, then dissipated in the slight breeze it created.
Laure bounded over to the throne and poised her sword over the skull, which had a crown identical to the one Potema's ghost had worn. "Highness, it was lovely to meet you finally, but we really must be going, I'm sure you understand. Now, we have a priest of Arkay who would love to make your acquaintance as well." She was sure she must look like a lunatic, bent over, face red from exertion, mocking a skull wearing a crown, but she didn't care. "How are the rest of you? Should we get patched up and get out of this Void-cursed crypt?" Her eyes roamed over her companions, taking in the frazzled expressions, scrapes, cuts, and frostbite. Her lover was checking a cut on his twin's head, and Farkas was muttering about it being "just a scratch," while Keiran seemed reluctant to believe they were all still alive and breathing. Laure wrapped the skull in a bundle of linen wraps she found, then tucked it into her knapsack.
"Who wants to help me loot these bodies?" she wanted to know, a smile widening on her face. Farkas' hand shot up and nearly poked Vilkas in the eye.
"Sorry 'bout that, Vilkas. But I want to help when you're done." Shaking his head, the shorter twin rolled his eyes and playfully shoved his brother's head away.
"You're fine; a sip of a healing potion and you'll be as well in the head as you've ever been." They began looting, sifting through pockets, chests, desks, pouches, and shelves. Once pooled, they had raked in over a thousand pieces of gold, several valuable pieces of jewelry, assorted loose gems, and a pile of weapons and armor that could be sold for a tidy sum. They bundled the loot up and divided it out for carrying, then made their way up through a tunnel that exited Potema's inner sanctum, fighting a few more draugr on the way out. Nothing the Companions couldn't handle. Toiling up the long slope, several staircases and another broken network of caves and tunnels, they emerged high up the mountain side, overlooking the Sea of Ghosts.
Gray mist pooled below, softening the shapes of trees and stone, but the light of day was chasing away the stars and brightening color by the heartbeat. Keiran looked out at the dawn and let out a huge sigh. "That is something I wasn't sure we would all see again."
"That was a walk in the park. You did pretty good in there, though, whelp. Glad you made it," Farkas rumbled as he came out of the tunnel behind the redhead. The two men took deep breaths of fresh air while Laure and Vilkas were slowly walking up the last incline, hand in hand while they talked softly about something. Vilkas glanced up and met his brother's eyes and smiled but kept talking. Laure was listening and nodding, eyes on the rough path underfoot. "Better catch up you two, missing the best part." He leaned back against the rough stone of the mountainside, legs crossed, watching the undersides of dark clouds being washed with warm radiance.
Laure and Vilkas scrambled up more quickly and sat down on the cramped ledge, quiet now. All four had their own thoughts, but they stopped to watch the sunrise usher in another day. Another day of life, conflict, joys and lessons. None of that mattered so very much at this moment. After an entire day of being in darkness, surrounded by the stench and filth of the undead, it was a moment to reflect and to appreciate that each day offered something new.
The twins and Laure enjoyed knowing they had stopped a terrible evil from returning to Skyrim and had defeated scores of abominations. Every one they destroyed was one somebody else didn't have to battle. It was a job well done all around, one they all felt brought honor to the name of the Companions.
Keiran was revising. These three had a zest for battle, food, stories and life in general unmatched by any of his former friends. If one could call his band of highwaymen "friends." Farkas hadn't been joking around when he said they had each others backs. He still wasn't sure he liked the idea of becoming a werewolf, but he couldn't argue that they took care of each other and wanted to include him. Shield-brother. It had a nice ring to it.
Farkas and Laurelin both let out soft, "Oh's!" as the brilliant disc of the sun finally cleared the trees and hillsides, dispelling the last of the shadows on the ledge with nearly blinding gold and rose hued light. She leaned over and kissed the big man's scruffy cheek, drawing another smile from him. The sun rose higher, chasing long shadows across the hills, and even the gray swells of the Sea of Ghosts sparkled once the fog rolled back.
After a few more moments of quiet appreciation, they decided to head back to Solitude, more than ready to eat, drink, bathe and sleep. The only argument was about which to do first. Good-natured banter accompanied them down the long hillside to the road and all the way back up to the city.
Sorry, lovely readers for the delay in posting this chapter. I hope you enjoy! As always, please comment, feel free to ask questions, and don't forget to follow/fave! Cheers, ~PyreIris