Hi, everyone! I apologize for the incredibly long wait. I knew I was nearing the end of Blackheart and couldn't bear to finish it. But I finally have! So here is the last and final chapter! It's so sad to be done, but I hope you've enjoyed reading! Please let me know what you think by favoriting, following, or reviewing! Thank you for being such fantastic readers! And be on the lookout for more stories from me! :D
-Totoro216
Ch. 12
—Fadrielindë—
The breath is knocked out of me as I land on the street, hard. I feel my broken ribs protesting in my chest. The soul gem I used did not heal them, just alleviated the pain for a while. And, by Talos, I can definitely feel the soul gem wearing off now. I close my eyes for a moment, grateful for the momentary rest. Someone shakes my shoulder.
"Fadriel! Are you alright?" It's Steve.
"Yes, I'm okay. Just wondering how we are going to defeat all of them." I open my eyes and see Steve's concerned face above me. He pulls me back to my feet.
"I'm wondering the same thing," he says, shaking his head. "Come on. Let's go and—" He is interrupted by another giant monster making its way toward us. I turn to look at him wordlessly.
"We can take it," I tell him, smirking a bit.
"Fadriel, are you crazy? We need to take shelter and wait for Stark or Banner to get here," Steve orders. He grips me shoulder and steers me toward a collapsed building.
"No, Steve. I'm serious. I really think we can do it," I say, staring at the monster lazily wandering closer to us.
"Fadriel, no. We need to wait," he says again. I don't know what comes over me, pure exhaustion or pure insanity, that makes me duck out from Steve's grip and run toward the creature. "Fadriel!"
—Loki—
Flying high above the city, I glance down and see Fadrielindë crash out of a window, landing on the cracked asphalt. I can tell she's in pain, tiring quickly. Shaking my head, I focus on the task at hand. I am almost done. I am so close to freedom. After the Chitauri destroy nearly everything in this city, the humans will have no choice but to surrender. The precious Avengers may try to fight, but they do not stand a chance against the other-worldly beings. My thoughts are interrupted when I spot Barton, his loyalty returned to its original place, aiming his beloved bow my way. I scoff, knowing that should his arrow even find me, my reflexes are quick. Sure enough, I hear the whoosh of an arrow shooting toward me. I easily snatch it out of the air. It is as if he was not even trying. But, annoyingly, he actually gets the better of me. The arrow explodes, knocking me off the chariot. Luckily, the fall is not too far. I smash through the floor-to-ceiling window of Stark's ridiculous tower and land on the smooth marble floor. Damn. I jump to my feet and observe the battle through the broken window. I spot Fadrielindë charging toward a Leviathan. Is she insane? I lean against the window frame, deciding to take a quick break from the battle to watch her fail in killing it. This should be interesting.
—Fadrielindë—
I grin as the monster spots me running towards it. It unleashes a spine-tingling roar. I keep sprinting to it until I am a hundred feet away. I grab the Mace and flames and take a deep breath. Just like fighting a dragon, I think. With adrenaline and what Dragon power I have left coursing through my veins, I dig my heels into the cracked asphalt and leap onto the creature's head. It roars furiously and whips around, trying to knock me off. I straddle its neck and strike it with my Mace over and over until its hard shell armoring its body is cracked. I ready my flames and prepare to blast flames into the tender spot when suddenly, the creature bucks and flails around, taking advantage of my moment of distraction. I fly backwards onto its back as it bucks again, flinging me into the air. As if in slow motion, I fly through the air and smash through yet another window, skidding on the floor until I crash into a wall. I sit there slumped over for a moment, moaning at the newly added pain in my chest. Probably more broken ribs. I close my eyes and assess my body. I wiggle my toes and fingers. All good. I move both of my arms and feel the weight of the Mace in my hand. My fractured arm still aches but it is tolerable. I move my legs and only feel the slight ache from my sprained ankle. Somehow I managed to get out of that without any new injuries—not counting the pain in my chest, of course.
"Thank Talos," I breathe, opening my eyes. Taking in my surroundings, I realize that I am in Tony's beloved Stark Tower. Nearly all of the windows are broken, debris litters the once sleek floor, and blood stains the balcony floor. I manage to get to my feet and find my way out onto the expansive balcony overlooking the city. I see Steve fighting off more Chitauri with Thor at his side. The Hulk is holding off a few hundred Chitauri a couple blocks away. Clint is at the top of a building shooting arrows at the Chitauri flying around the city. I lean over, placing my hands on my knees, and try to catch my breath. I wish I had another soul gem; practically all of my Dragon power is gone and I can barely stand.
"Nice of you to drop in," a sly voice sneers. I freeze, knowing who the voice belongs to. My heart pounding in my chest, I slowly turn around. And there he stands, casually leaning against a broken window, arms crossed, peering at me as if merely observing a semi-interesting art exhibit. My knuckles turn white, clenching the Mace. Flames beg to burst from my hand; I can feel the heat already emanating from my palm. I stand there, rigid. He straightens up and moves toward me slowly.
"Good effort in trying to kill the Leviathan," he smirks. I say nothing, too overwhelmed by my utter repulsion caused by him. I notice that he does not have his scepter with him…why is he up here unarmed? He strides over to me and stands beside me. He makes no move to attack so I keep my Mace lowered and flames in my clenched fist.
"What are you doing up here? Don't you have an innocent world to ruthlessly conquer?" I find my voice. "Or are all you just watching your minions do your dirty work for you?" My chest rises and falls as the anger courses through my body. The betrayal has turned into pure anger. All the confusing emotions I feel toward him are suddenly transformed into nothing but anger. No more sadness. No more heartbreak. Just red hot fury.
"Fadrielindë, I understand that you are angry with me. But you must understand the stakes. I did what I had to do. And that just happened to include dropping you from the helicarrier," he states calmly.
"Are you trying to justify what you did to me?" I burst out with a sarcastic laugh. "I may not have actually died, but you basically killed me when you flipped that switch." He shrugs.
"I was hoping you would understand why I had to do it," he remarks. He turns to face me. I instinctively take a step back, ready to start attacking if he so much as tries to touch me. "I would ask you to join me in, as you so eloquently put it, 'ruthlessly conquering' Earth. But I think we both know the answer to that request," he tells me in a serious tone.
"I would never help you," I spit, taking a step toward him. He nods, somewhat wearily.
"I know," he agrees with a sigh. His eyes narrow and glint crimson. "It truly is a shame, Fadrielindë," he says in a deadly voice. I take that step back again, suddenly very aware of the lack of railings on the destroyed balcony.
"What is?" I ask, my voice shaking slightly. My arm tenses, waiting for the critical moment to strike. I know the attack is coming. The air is thick, not only with smoke, but also with tension. He moves closer to me. His face is mere inches from mine, and I struggle to calm my pounding heart. It is not pounding with admiration like it once was. No. It is pounding with anticipation. Anticipation and anger. He opens his mouth to speak and I shift my weight, ready to strike.
"You would have made an excellent queen." And then he is suddenly gripping me by my arms. I let loose the eager flames from my hand before I realize what he is doing.
"Loki!" In one swift motion, he tosses me off the balcony as if I am nothing but a rag doll. "No!" My feet desperately feel for solid ground but meet nothing but air. My hand, once having the Mace in an iron-grip, slackens and clutches the air, hoping for a handhold. But nothing is there. Nothing but the emotionless face of him staring down at me as I descend to Earth for the third time. The last time. This time his face shows no remorse. He tilts his head slightly as he watches me plummet to my death. A mass of green blurs in front of him and he disappears.
I close my eyes, waiting for the final landing and trying not to think about what my death will mean for Nirn. Upon the death of the Dragonborn, who will rise to fulfill the prophecy? No one. There is no one but me. And I have failed. My people will never see the beauty of Sovngarde, only the pain and torment caused by the World-Eater. The world will end. Alduin will be able to embark on his reign of terror without a single soul able to stop him. I have never felt so much despair. My worst fear…will come true. Funny how such a small previously insignificant Imperial elven woman can have such an enormous impact on the entire existence of her world. The only comfort in dying is the weight of the prophecy lifted from my shoulders. I have failed, but I already feel considerably lighter now that I know I will not have to let it control me any longer. I now fully accept death, and I had not until this very minute.
Letting myself be completely and horribly selfish and cruel for once in my life, I find joy in not fulfilling the prophecy. Because I will not be known forever as "The Dragonborn" instead of Fadrielindë. I will not have songs written about my great accomplishment because I somehow find joy in being just a lowly woman from the Imperial City. I can die being who I was for as long as I can remember instead of a title that others forced upon me. I can die as Fadrielindë. Not as the Dragonborn who fulfilled the prophecy. But everyone in existence will die, a voice urges me. I know. If I could change this, I would. But I cannot, I reply to it. I am lying to myself. I wish more than anything that I could save all those innocent lives. The only thing keeping me calm is pretending to accept their fates. But, I can promise myself one impossible thing. If I somehow and miraculously survive this, I promise to return straight back to Skyrim and kill Alduin once and for all, I decide, knowing that this is but a false promise. I will never see Skyrim again.
I open my eyes. A blinding light flashes through the sky and another red blur streaks through the air. I cannot even take comfort in knowing that the sky I am gazing up at is the same as Skyrim's. Because it is not. I turn off my mind, ready. No more thinking. If these are indeed my final moments, I need to merely observe everything for one last time. The endless blue sky. The beautiful white clouds. The cool wind streaming past my body as I descend. This is it. I smile softly, ready. Ready, finally, after all I have been through. Ready. Ready to die. I am ready for whatever the Gods have planned for me. Death.
But no. Life. The Gods have played a trick on me. A cruel joke. It is not my time. My body twists and turns in the air and smashes into an iron mass. My eyes flying open and jerking out of my silent reverie, I find myself in Thor's arms, soaring safely down to the ground. Life has chosen me over Death. I am not to die now. Later. Perhaps at the hands of Alduin himself, but not now. Disbelief replaces the deep suffocating despair as Thor carefully sets me down.
"Are you alright?" he asks softly, watching my face. My knees give out and I collapse onto the ground. He kneels down in front of me. "Fadriel?" I bury my face in my hands. I nod silently, still covering my face. I can't stop the tears steadily trickling down my cheeks. Tears of joy, relief, I don't know.
"I was ready," I choke out, sitting up in the rubble. His arms are suddenly around me. I drop my hands and lean into his comforting hug, gazing around in confusion at the thousands of dead Chitauri and lack of portal. "Where are the others? What happened?" I ask him. He lets go of me and helps me to my feet, pointing to a disheveled Tony in the distance. Tony's armor is cracked and blackened.
"Natasha closed the portal just as Stark took a nuclear bomb into it. He barely made it out alive," he explains carefully. "We did it. We stopped him." I look up at him in disbelief. "Banner saw you and Loki on the balcony and rushed to help you, but he was a second too late. He managed to take Loki out of commission right after he threw you off the tower, and I barely caught you in time." I nod stiffly, and lean on him as we make our way to the others, me limping, him supporting me.
I feel like I'm in a dream. I was supposed to die; I was ready to die. I was ready…and now…having something I finally accepted to be torn away…it's an odd feeling. A strangely dissatisfying feeling…but also an exhilarating feeling. I am alive. Today is not my final day. These hours are not my final hours. I survived. I survived and I will go back and kill Alduin, fulfilling the prophecy and my ridiculous promise to myself. I vaguely wonder where my Mace went off to, remembering how it slipped from my hand. I dizzily turn to look at Thor and find it in his hand.
"Fadriel!" Natasha dashes over to me. "Are you okay?" I nod and crack a smile.
"I actually am," I reply. I see Tony, his eyes unfocused, looking awestruck, standing behind Steve. "Tony?" His eyes flash up to mine and he grins.
"Conquerors of Death," he jokes. "That's what we are!" He raises his fist and hugs me with his other arm. I can't help but let out a weak laugh. "Now, who's hungry?"
.
"Knock, knock." Tony's voice cuts through my thoughts as he taps on the door of the Tower's guest room. I glance up and find him in the doorway.
"Hey," I smile. He strides to the bed I'm sitting on and takes a seat himself, looking around the white room. "Thank you for letting me stay here," I thank him. He waves his hand.
"Of course." He stares at the wall.
"Are you okay?" I ask him, furrowing my brow. He shrugs.
"I'll be fine. It's just kinda hard to bounce back from a near-death experience, you know?" he says nonchalantly. I pat his hand.
"Believe me, I completely understand," I tell him. "I've been having trouble too." He turns to me.
"I can't stop playing it over and over in my head," he confides. I nod.
"I know. I should have died. And the worst part is…I was ready to die. I feel like I…" I trail off.
"Cheated? Disrupted fate?" he asks.
"Yeah." We sit in silence for a moment.
"Well," he stands up from the bed. "We better get ready for the grand send-off." My heart falls. I nod, clenching my jaw. He notices. "Are you gonna be okay?" he asks me. I nod briskly.
"Yeah, I'll be fine." I stand up too.
"You know, it's not completely unbelievable for you to dread traveling with a psychotic god who tried to kill you twice and his brother," he says bluntly. I wave my hand, lying to him and myself.
"I can handle it. I'll only be in Asgard for a little. Just long enough to open a portal back to Skyrim. Then it's off to slaying dragons and fulfilling prophecies!" I reassure him. He chuckles.
"We better get going then."
.
My heart in my throat, I step out of Tony's sleek black car and onto the pavement. You'd think that after narrowly avoiding death twice, I'd become less of a milk-drinker. But I didn't. And this only reinforces when I catch a glimpse of him standing on a raised platform next to Thor. Gods help me, I think. But I am surprised at how much of my apprehension has turned into hatred. Now that I know we finally got the upper-hand, I'm able to hate him more easily. And an emotion such as hatred has such a simplistic quality to it. A quality I've desperately needed in my insanely confusing life.
"Fadriel!" Natasha calls out when she sees me. I glance to the side right as his eyes flicker up toward me. I smile warmly at everyone waiting at the bottom of the steps. When I reach them, Natasha gives me a hug. "You know, I'm really going to miss you," she tells me.
"Aww," I sigh. "I'm going to miss you too." Natasha steps back and grins at me. Bruce grips my hand.
"It was a pleasure to work with you," he says, smiling warmly. I smile back.
"And with you," I reply. Barton pats my shoulder.
"You know, you're alright," he tells me. I grin crookedly.
"You're not so bad yourself. You'd sure give the Thieves Guild a run for their money. If they could shoot half as good as you…" I shake my head. He lets out a bark of laughter. I stride to Steve and he holds out his hand. I smirk at it and instead give him a hug.
"Come back and visit us soon," he tells me. I nod.
"I'll try," I reply. Tony steps up and playfully punches my shoulder.
"Good luck with the prophecy," he says. "Just do exactly what you did a few days ago and you should beat that old dragon with no problem." I chuckle.
"We'll see about that," I laugh, pulling him in for a hug. "I wish I could say that I'm always here if you need to talk but—"
"But you'll be on a completely different planet?" he finishes for me.
"Yeah." He shrugs.
"It's the thought that counts," he remarks. I look him in the eye.
"It'll be okay. It will probably just take time…and lots of it," I try to assure him. He just laughs it off.
"It's a great story though. And we'll be the top story on the news for a while!" he jokes. He nudges my shoulder. "Ready?" his voice changes to a gentler tone. I tilt my chin up, determined not to let him get to me.
"Yeah." I confidently stride up the steps to the dais, where Thor and Loki stand holding the Tesseract in a long container. I clench my jaw and meet Loki's glare evenly.
"Are you ready?" Thor asks me.
"Yes," I reply without breaking eye contact. I slip my arm around Thor and he grips the Tesseract in one hand and me in the other. I smile at everyone surrounding the dais.
"Have a safe trip!" Natasha calls out.
"Kick that dragon's ass!" Tony teases. I wave as Thor turns the container and a bright light, not unlike the one I fell from, shoots down from the sky. Gazing upward I see millions of stars, like the entire galaxy has opened up. And suddenly we are airborne. Flying high into the sky through the light portal, planets and other phenomenons I've never seen streak past us.
It truly is amazing how many lives are out there. So many different legacies and so many different stories. I can only hope that once I return to Skyrim, I will create my own legacy. One with, yes, me, the Dovahkiin, defeating the World-Eater and saving all the precious souls afflicted by him and finally fulfilling the legendary prophecy, but also with me, Fadrielindë, the Imperial Altmer who somehow transformed from a scared young woman, resorting to assassinations and thievery in order to appease her anger, into a confident, strong woman, determined to do whatever it takes to help as many lives as possible. I want to be more than just the Dovahkiin. I want being the Dovahkiin to be just one small sliver of my life. I want to be someone who will be remembered, not only for fulfilling the prophecy, but also for helping in any way I can and with whatever I can, whether it be a small task such as clearing out a bandit den or a giant task like defeating an alien army to save a human planet from utter destruction. But, all of that will have to come later. To leave a legacy and create my own story, I must first focus on the first chapter. And that is saving my world.
After I do that, those who know me may call me a savior. A savior with a good heart. I may have a good heart now, but, I'll tell them, what they don't know is that I used to be different. Before I discovered myself and my true purpose in this life, I didn't have a good heart. I have one now. But before, before everything, before my descent, before the prophecy, before I even traveled to Skyrim, I was just a young woman with a troubled past and no limitations to what I would do to forget it. And when I found out I was supposed to save the entire world, I couldn't deal with the responsibility. I would do anything, anything, to try and just forget all of it. But now…after almost dying, after fully accepting death and it failing to appease me, I know that I can do what I am destined to do. I can leave behind that part of me. I am ready for whatever I must do. I am ready to finally fulfill the prophecy and succeed in whatever comes next. I will do whatever I can to bring my world and all worlds to justice. And I know now that I can. I can and have completely transformed, fully leaving behind my dark ways. Leaving behind my black heart. Leaving behind my blackened ebony heart, hardened by ruthless violence caused simply by my desire to forget my past and avoid the prophecy. Leaving the black heart behind. My black heart…now turned to gold.
—THE END—