Author's Note: Hey everyone, here's chapter 37! As always, thanks to all who have read/reviewed/fav/followed my fic! Hope you guys enjoy!
Chapter 37: This is How the World Ends
Cicero stood in the large central area of Falkreath Sanctuary, facing a room filled to the brim with assassins and silently listening to Babette instruct them. His dark siblings were all willing and tense, with hands eager and ready to grip their weapons.
"Alright, are all my mages at the front?" Babette asked, with Cicero noticing that the Un-child seemed rather fit to give orders. However, it was rather funny that a child was instructing a band of blood-thirsty assassins. Thinking to himself, the jester let out a bit of a chuckle from his observations.
Eyes narrowed and hands now on her hips, Babette turned to him. "What's so funny?" she inquired, looking ready to scold him at any moment.
Cicero grinned, simply shrugging and letting the important discussion continue. As much as he'd love to poke fun at the Un-child, it would have to wait. The will of Sithis was at hand, and Cicero would not dare disrupt such sacred happenings. The Night Mother would most certainly not be pleased with her Keeper if that were to happen.
"Yes, Speaker," an eager young mage answered, as the other mages nodded simultaneously in agreement.
"Good. If those nasty Legionnaires break into here, the first thing they'll see is a blast of varying elements to the face. Then, our hand-to-hand combatants can follow suit. Remember, if one of our own comes through the door, they will knock five times first. Five is our magic number, understand? Remember - - five for the Tenets. Five for the Black Hand. Got it?" Babette continued, watching the room of assassins nod in unison.
Cicero stood watching his fellow siblings and taking in the beautiful sight of his dark family. Mother would be so proud to see them all working together to slay their enemies. She'd especially be proud of his beloved Listener. He sighed gently through his nose, already missing her presence. Only hours apart proved to be painful for the Keeper. He longed for her gentle touch, her soothing voice, and her kind words. He simply wanted to be with her every moment. Not only did he miss his beloved Listener, but his poor Mother needed him as well, leaving his heart yearning to return to her and continue his faithful duties for his beloved Matron.
He mentally returned to the present, realizing that Mother would want her devoted Keeper to help in Sithis' Will. He had to stand as a faithful guard, ensuring his family's survival in case trouble came to their door.
He watched as Babette turned to him, "Cicero, you and Temani need serve as lookouts for us. Should the enemy come our way, you'll be the ones to warn us ahead of time so we'll have the advantage. I need one at the forest's edge and one in front of the Black Door in case the other doesn't survive. Now decide amongst yourselves who will do what." Babette instructed, as Cicero watched Temani fidget behind him nervously. Perhaps the elf would make a better door-watcher, seeing as though his capabilities seemed to be quite limited. Besides, Cicero rather enjoyed the threat of death, and it would certainly be there should the army bound into the forest after him. The very thought of it made the jester's heart rate increase rapidly. The thrill of it all simply mesmerized him.
"Well...ma'am...er..." Temani fumbled about his words behind the Keeper, causing the little Imp to scowl.
"What?" she grunted irritably.
"Cicero will go to the forest..." Cicero interjected, feeling a wicked smile creep across his lips. Perhaps a couple of cowardly guards would wander into the forest so that Cicero's sharp, pointy blade could caress their throats! He would certainly oblige, if that were the case...
"Very well, then. Temani, you're outside the door, understand?" Babette instructed.
"Oh, yes, of course, ma'am..." Temani sighed, sounding somehow relieved.
"I guess that's that." Babette said plainly, folding her arms and looking about the room. "I'll be in the prison chamber with our little darling. I don't need one of her co-conspirator's setting her free if the Legion breaks into this place. I'll kill her myself before I allow that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be tending to our pet." she smirked, waving the two assassins off to take their positions as she left the area.
So that was the reason the Strumpet sat in chains. Cicero realized his suspicions had been right all along. The Harlot did have ill intentions. Cicero didn't know when the mage ultimately decided to betray the Brotherhood, but he'd picked up on her character traits long ago. She was a narcissistic, self-serving opportunist to the fullest extent. Not that Cicero hadn't exhibited, or even upheld those types of traits himself when the opportunity arose - - for what good would an assassin be without a bit of self-indulgence or apathy? Of course, the line had to be drawn somewhere, however jagged that line may be. Cicero knew it would only be a matter of time before she found an opportunity that served her better than the Dark Brotherhood. She was a traitor, simple as that. She crossed that line. An inflated ego and a high degree of greed only went so far in the Dark Brotherhood. The wretched thing had not an ounce of honor, conviction, or even the slightest trace of loyalty to her dark family. Those who were fit to serve the precious Matron had to uphold certain...qualities. Of course, the wretch had completely rebelled against the Tenets. Not to mention how the nasty little thing had disrespected his Listener! Simply put, she was no longer a sister of the Black Hand, let alone a Speaker, but an enemy. If he could go back in time, he'd have simply slit her throat as she tried in vain to work her feminine charms on him. Ah, both a humorous and delightful thought, indeed!
He grinned, checking his supplies as he headed out of the Sanctuary. Cicero found quite a sense of satisfaction in knowing that the nasty Strumpet would face the Wrath of Sithis soon. He couldn't wait to see her divine punishment and all it entailed! He chuckled, thinking of her demise. He forced himself to keep to the task at hand, however. Seeing her suffer would come in time, but for now, he had a Brotherhood to watch over.
Vottur watched in awe from atop the watchtower as the massive, thundering army of Stormcloaks surrounded the Legion from every side. The Legion may have been an enormous force, but Ulfric's men had caught them completely by surprise, killing many of them before they knew what hit them.
"By the Void, I can't believe this! Look, Vottur, they're slaughtering the likes of them!" Nazir gasped, entranced by the battle taking place before his eyes. Many of the Legion's men already laid lifeless on the ground, covered in blood from the gash of a weapon or the tip of an arrow. Others, trying to valiantly fight through the onslaught, were being quickly being overtaken.
Vottur's heart raced, as his dark eyes scanned the plains for a glimpse of Ulfric and his right-hand man, Galmar. Suddenly, from amidst the battle, the two men separated themselves slightly outside the inner-ring of confrontation. They were calling commands for Ulfric's men to close in at the necessary places.
"There he is! Nazir, I'm going down to meet him." Vottur said, bolting for the staircase.
"Not without me, you're not." Nazir smirked, as the two fled the watchtower. "Get Shadowmere. I'll wait for you." Nazir demanded, pulling out his scimitar as he waited eagerly at the forest's edge.
In mere moments, Vottur came bursting out of the woods on the massive demon steed. As the massive stallion sprinted by, the Redguard grabbed Vottur's large hand, quickly jumping atop the lightning-fast beast. They raced closer to Ulfric and Galmar, who both sat looking fierce and battle-hungry, atop of two equally large smoke-colored stallions of their own.
"Ulfric!" Vottur yelled, his voice loud and harsh, grabbing the Jarl's attention.
"Hah! There you are, brother! I see you've stayed true to your word, Vottur!" Ulfric answered, raising his large sword above his head victoriously.
"As have you, Jarl!" Vottur replied. Upon riding closer to the Jarl and the Veteran, he noticed a third, smaller, chestnut-colored horse on the other side of Galmar. A broad smile fell across his face as he caught sight of who rode the smaller steed. Violet sat proudly, dawning an equally large grin, looking into Vottur's relieved eyes.
Vottur stopped when he approached the Jarl. "Violet..." It was all he could bring himself to say. He felt truly happy to see her free.
"I told you I'd be fine. Being captive for a short while was truly worth seeing this," she remarked, her voice thick with gratitude.
"Who'd have thought the noble girl was actually telling the truth." Galmar raised his hands, grinning broadly. "Now if you'll excuse me, Jarl, I'm going to rejoin my men. I've been out of battle for but a few moments, and already my heart cries for more! Talos guide me!" The Veteran laughed, and as Ulfric nodded, he rode back into the midst of soldiers with his sword raised, yelling and whooping from the adrenaline in his war-hardened body.
"The man has a point." Nazir commented from behind Vottur, apparently feeling the rush of the moment as well. The Vampire watched as Nazir hopped down from Shadowmere, his scimitar tightly held in his grasp. "It's nice to meet you Jarl Ulfric, but I think I'll follow his lead and go pursue some of those slimy Legionnaires." he remarked, grinning deviously.
"Ah, I see your comrade is thirsty for battle as well. Would you like for me to supply you a horse?" Ulfric asked the Redguard.
"The name's Nazir, and if you don't mind, I'd like to politely decline. I'm much lighter and quicker on my feet." he said, raising a hand in protest to Ulfric's suggestion.
"Nazir..." Ulfric said, grinning at the Redguard, and appearing to taste the sound of his name. "I see you like to dive in, brother. Well, allow me to stand aside and let you do what you do best, assassin. Talos' speed to you!"
"You're alright, Ulfric..." Nazir grinned, turning to Vottur. The Redguard bounded off, scimitar held high, as Vottur watched him disappear into the midst of battle.
"Well then," Ulfric continued. "I wouldn't think myself much of a man if I didn't taste the enemy's blood alongside my soldiers. What say you?" he asked Vottur, as Violet hopped off her horse, looting a dead Imperial and coming back with a sword, a bow, and a quiver full of arrows.
"I, for one, would love to." Violet remarked, grinning from ear to ear at her Vampiric companion.
Vottur, never the one for long speeches or witty remarks, simply did what he did best. He stayed silent, only nodding and letting his fierce dark eyes do the talking for him as he unsheathed his ebony warhammer.
"I take that as a yes, then?" Ulfric chuckled, raising an eyebrow as he held his sharp blade in the air. Vottur nodded once more, feeling a rush come over him. Ulfric spurred the sides of his massive grey stallion, plunging into the throws of war and death, with Violet and Vottur following behind him.
"Well, Listener, what'll it be?" Haldor smirked, his arrogance causing Ava's face to twist into an expression of disgust. He may kill her in the end, but she wouldn't give up that easy. Not now, while icy power surged in her veins and darkness filled her insides.
Haldor stepped up, closing the short distance between the two of them. "What is it, Listener? Is that old corpse telling you something again?"
A set of fiery, crimson eyes blazed in Ava's mind, as she felt icy hands dig into her back, causing her own eyes to widen from the intense feeling of it all. The Night Mother's icy grasp tightened, sending a cold flood through her. Suddenly, Ava screamed, lunging at Haldor with all her might. She hit him with such force that her small body knocked him clean on his back in the snow, flinging his helmet completely off of his head. His eyes shot open, wide and furious. His enormous hands gripped her about the arms tightly, as he squeezed them and caused her to wail in agony.
"You want to do it the hard way I see. Very well then. This will be a painful death for you, Listener." He spat mockingly, with a mix of anger and a slight hint of surprise in his voice. He released his tight grasp, forcefully throwing her to the ground.
Ava stumbled to her feet, watching a cocky smirk form on Haldor's face. He opened his mouth, shouting, "FUS RO DAH!"
A giant burst of blue light flooded from his lips, picking her whole body up like a limp rag doll and flinging it through the air. Ava could do nothing but brace herself as the powerful force threw her hundreds of feet. Screaming, she only stopped when she hit a tree, crumpling limply to the snowy ground.
Head now ringing from the crash, Ava stumbled to her feet, realizing the sheer magnitude of Haldor's power. There was no way she'd survive him. The Night Mother was right about her demise - - that much she knew. Staggering while hunched over, she clutched her stomach due to the powerful urge to vomit. Ava could only wonder how she'd ultimately kill him first.
Another glimpse of a wicked, jagged-toothed smile filled her mind. The Mother's icy grip pulled her up to stand tall again.
Straighten...
Ava growled, feeling a force pull her forward. The Dragonborn stood laughing in the distance. "Still wanna face me?" he yelled, taunting her.
Go...
Ava felt the warm breath of the Mother tickle her neck, with a rush of adrenaline hitting her once more. She sprinted toward the Dragonborn, watching his lips move once more to shout.
"FUS RO DAH!" Another burst of blue, and another gust of power was thrust in her direction. Ava flung her arms around a nearby tree, holding on with all the strength she could muster. Only partially successful, her grip was loosened by the sheer power of his voice, flinging her into another tree behind her.
Frustrated and already in great pain, Ava clammered up to her feet again. How could she even get close to this man? Thunder rumbled in the skies, as a gust of wind blew by, freezing her already icy body. She may not have been where she wanted to be, but she was a bit closer than before. She hissed, running toward him again. This time, he simply watched her in amusement.
She boldly ran, nearly reaching him this time, until his lips parted. "Iiz Slen Nus." he stated, almost carelessly, as an icy gust flew from his lips. Ava, feeling a dark force push her, rolled to the side, dodging the brunt of his shout. Unfortunately, the wintry blast hit her left hand, freezing it solid and causing her to shriek in terror.
Ava stumbled, gaping at her now frozen hand. It would be useless now. "What do I do?!" she frantically gasped, as if speaking to both the Mother and herself.
Fight...
Ava glared at the Dragonborn, who stood without a scratch on his body, laughing at her. "Lielle was right. You are a weakling! Hahaha!" he taunted.
Ava's eyes grew wide, as the familiar name fell upon her ears. "Lielle?!" she gasped. Lielle was the traitor! Ava felt another wave of darkness run through her veins. Now seething with anger, she pulled the putrid, writhing sword out from under her now tattered robes.
Haldor stopped laughing, a hard scowl now covering his features. "What are you doing with my sword?!" He glared, infuriated.
Vottur growled savagely, swinging his warhammer so hard that it hit a nearby Imperial soldier, intstantly killing him and flinging his dead body from his horse. He nudged Shadowmere further ahead, the massive horse trampling an Imperial soldier to death under the force of his furious hooves. Taking another powerful swing, he knocked the next soldier's head off his shoulders, leaving a bloody, headless shell where the once living man used to be. The headless soldier, who's lifeless body now slumped over, sat limp atop of a frantic horse, who sped off into the distance.
Ulfric, only a short distance ahead, plunged his blade into the chest of another Imperial who'd been riding by him. Vottur saw Ulfric take the opportunity, welcoming the soldier's oncoming chest into this mighty blade, pulling it out covered in the enemy's blood.
"AAHHGGG!" Vottur yelled, suddenly feeling a sharp pain in his leg. An Imperial soldier on foot had run up to him, stabbing him in the upper thigh. In a surge of pain and fury, he kicked the man in the face with all his might, knocking him to the ground. Vottur pulled the blade from his leg, screaming with pain as the soldier unsheathed a second blade he'd hidden on himself.
The soldier ran toward him, dagger aimed and ready, only to be brought down by a force Vottur could not yet see. Upon further inspection, Vottur saw what brought down the vengeful soldier. A single arrow pierced his eye, bringing a tear of blood down his lifeless cheek.
"I see my years of practice have not been in vain, after all." Vottur turned to see Violet atop her chestnut steed, bow in hand, with a mischievous grin painted on her face. "I believe that means you owe me one, friend." she said, quickly aiming again and plunging an arrow into the back of an Imperial's head, causing him to drop dead in the distance.
Vottur crushed another man's head under his warhammer, noting that most of the Imperial's were fleeing for their lives at this point, with more joining by the second. Ulfric, watching another soldier fall lifelessly under his blade, turned to Vottur. "Any moment now. They'll either be defeated, or Tullius will call it off. They can't go on much longer like this, friend. They are too weak." he panted, wiping the blood from his sweat-covered brow.
A gust of white blew in between Ava and the furious Dragonborn, blinding her view in a sea of snow.
Do not be seen...
Ava gasped, realizing what she needed to do. Like all assassins, she would have to remain hidden to do what she did best - - murder. It was her only chance, seeing as Haldor was far more powerful than she could ever dream to be. Another rumble in the sky alerted her to move, as she ran behind a massive tree, hiding with the mysterious sword writhing in her good hand.
Another blast of foreign words came from Haldor's lips, bursting forth and clearing his view. Ava peered from behind a tree, watching him search about aimlessly. Obviously frustrated, he growled, pulling a sword that seemed to be made of dragon bones from its sheath.
"AVA! DON'T HIDE FROM ME LIKE THE COWARD YOU ARE! YOU'LL ONLY PROLONG THE INEVITABLE! BE IT NOW OR LATER, YOU'LL STILL DIE!" Ava watched him yell bitterly in the distance.
To her amazement, the whiteness of the storm blew forth again, covering his form once more. She felt relieved, as her racing heart slowed down, realizing that his ability to clear the air was only temperary. She could definitely use that to her advantage.
Feeling a cold hand caress her cheek, Ava felt the dark urge take over again, numbing the pain she was currently in. She sprinted toward where Haldor's form had been standing, holding his strange sword firmly in place, ready to attack.
Nazir's trusty scimitar sliced against an Imperial soldier's throat, unleashing a thick trail of blood down the man's neck. The soldier choked on the crimson liquid, falling and writhing on the blood-soaked battleground.
The Redguard smiled with satisfaction, now running as silent as death through the thinning crowd of warring enemies. With most of the Imperials now fleeing on their own without command from their leadership, the sea of battle had thinned out enough to spot Maro and Tullius, seemingly in a heated argument.
Catching his breath, Nazir slipped into a nearby thicket, unnoticed by the warring leaders. He became still, straining to hear their conversation amidst the wave of shouts and battle cries.
"We can't stop now! We're almost there, Tullius!" Maro growled, as Nazir watched him point in the direction of the Falkreath Sanctuary.
"Yes, and we'll be dead before we even reach the Black Door at this rate! By the gods, Maro, this is enough! Ulfric is killing my men, damn it! They're fleeing for their lives, as it is! At least l can give them the dignity of my command to surrender!" Tullius yelled, furious with Maro's attitude to continue, despite being slaughtered like cattle.
"But don't you see? If you quit now, we'll never get what we want, General! The Dragonborn hasn't even arrived yet!" Maro remarked, trying to persuade Tullius once more.
"By the divines, Maro! Can't you see he's deserted us? He's not coming, you fool! He'll never come! And if he does, it'll be too late! We'll all be laying in a pool of our own blood!" Tullius screamed, veins throbbing in his forehead from his intense fury.
"Fine, do it then. You won't get what you want." Maro chided.
"It's not what I want, it's what you want that you can't get. Don't you understand? You provoked the Dark Brotherhood! You can't beat them, Maro! By the gods, they killed Titus Mede II right under our noses, and you honestly think you can avenge your son now? Oh, what fate have I brought down on my Empire? What have I done to fall under the spell of your words, Maro?" Nazir watched as Tullius' eyes grew wide with fear and regret. "You've gone mad, Maro...completely...mad..." Tullius raised his hand, gripping a large, white sheet of cloth in his fist. "MEN! RETREAT, NOW! SAVE YOURSELVES WHILE YOU STILL CAN!"
Nazir watched eagerly, as the battlefield began to scatter. A wave of red-clad soldiers were fleeing by whatever means necessary, with a massive ocean of blue at their heels.
A loud scream filled the skies, as Haldor's body writhed under the blade that Ava had pierced him with. She felt a strong grip around her right arm, as the humongous Nord flung her away from his body to prevent further damage. He shouted, clearing the air around him as Ava rolled back into the protection of the woods, watching him from a distance.
Haldor glared at the sword that had pierced a weak spot in his armor. It had left a trail of blood flowing freely from his abdomen. "AAAAHHHH, YOU BITCH! I'LL KILL YOU!" he screamed, grabbing the blade as blood gushed from the deep gash.
Haldor studied the ground, seeing the last traces of her footsteps before the shout wore off. He quickly followed the path before the snow filled the imprints again.
Blinding snow drifted between them again, as Ava felt the familiar force of darkness consume her once more. "You think you're really something, don't you!" She heard Haldor's pained voice crack. "Well, you are NOTHING! YOU HEAR ME?! You won't escape. No one EVER escapes..."
Another flash caught her vision. The Matron stood before her in all her malevolent beauty, both flawless and destructive. Her long, elegant fingers brushed Ava's bruised cheek, as she wiped away a trail of blood from Ava's crimson lips.
It is time. Fight and do not stop. NOW!
A hot white light shot from the Matron, as her beautiful figure twisted unto a hideous terror of night. Her form exploded, blinding Ava with a white hot flash that shot through her field of vision and into the darkness of her surroundings. Ava closed her eyes tight, inhaling and taking in the darkness of night as it fell upon them. Opening her eyes, Ava felt invigorated and truly alive.
Hearing his oncoming footsteps in the dark storm, Ava lunged toward the sound, pulling forth her Blade of Woe. She crashed into him, landing on top of him, her blade hitting the hard bone of his armor and dealing him no damage. She wasn't fortunate enough to hit a weak spot this time. Suddenly, Ava felt his arms grab her so tightly she thought he'd pull them off, causing her to wail in anguish.
His face appeared in the darkness of her vision. His rough, hardened features grinned dangerously into her eyes. Before she knew what hit her, he thrust his head forward, butting her so hard in the face, that she nearly lost consciousness. Her hand opened involuntarily from the force, causing her to fling her blade into the unknown distance.
Ava coughed, tasting a large amount of fresh blood in her mouth. In a surge of adrenaline and rage, she spit the blood into Haldor's eyes. He growled furiously, wiping it away. Ava managed to wriggle free, desperately scrambling about, limping in search of her dagger.
She could hear Haldor shift behind her, as a force burst out of his lips, flinging her away once more. Her body tumbled about in the snow, luckily not hitting anything and simply slowing to a stop.
Tears began to form in Ava's eyes, feeling suddenly helpless, even in her strengthened state. Now she was without a weapon, flung hundreds of feet away, with a dangerous man in her midst and a snowstorm blinding her vision. Hot tears ran down her cheeks, as she shook her head, mentally composing herself.
No. It couldn't end this way. Remembering the Night Mother's words, she knew she had to fight, and fight without ceasing. In order to take a risk, she had to trust the Matron. Choking back her fear and doubt, Ava inhaled, deciding to put every bit of her being into following the Night Mother's orders. This had to be done. This was her redemption. This was her destiny. She braced herself, following Haldor's angry voice through the storm.
The Dragonborn cleared the sky as Ava stood hidden only inches from his form. As the white of the storm cleared in the night, she screeched, jumping into him. His eyes were wide with surprise from being completely caught off-guard. Toppling them both over, Ava did the only thing she could without a weapon - - she dug her fingers into his eyes.
Haldor screamed, cursing and hitting her, but somehow she managed not to be flung away this time. He yelled once more in the dragon tongue, as fire shot from his throat, enveloping Ava's body. She began to writhe and scream as her armor caught fire and the man's painfully fierce grip tried to fling her off of him. Fighting the torturous pain, she dug her fingers deeper, traces of blood now pooling around them. She did it until the flame was too hot to bear, burning her flesh and charring her armor. Finally prying her loose, Haldor forcefully threw her off of him. Ava rolled about in the snow, wailing while trying to ease the immense pain.
"AAAHHHHGGGGG, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!" Haldor screamed in terror, alerting Ava that she had, indeed blinded the fierce man.
As her body burned with agony, she weakly staggered to her feet. Before she knew what hit her, Haldor drew his sword, instantly striking as he heard her struggling movements.
Ava shrieked, falling to the ground.
Get the blade...
Eyes growing wide from the Mother's words, Ava clutched her bleeding stomach, scrambling toward where the dark urge led her. Her body suffered from the burns, as her abdomen trickled red from beneath her trembling fingers. Hearing the wails of the infuriated man in the distance, she finally spotted the jagged blade.
Falling to one knee in the storm, she clutched the dagger, feeling the power and warmth from within. She turned to see Haldor turning in every direction possible, blasting fire through his lips, and hoping in vain to torch Ava to a crisp. What he didn't realize was the fact that Ava now had the upper-hand. She could see, and he could not.
Seeing the blazing red eyes in her mind once more, Ava gripped the Blade of Woe tightly, limping toward Haldor. The Dragonborn now stood slumped over, breathless from shouting so much.
The closer Ava approached, the more her mind felt the fog of blood-loss - - something she was unfortunately familiar with. She quickly glanced down at her stomach, seeing red painted down her hand and flooding down her armor. Feeling sick and light-headed, she began to feel her heart thump in her head. Fear hit her like a rock wall, realizing that she would soon lose awareness, and most likely fade away. She'd realized she was mortally wounded. She stopped within safe distance of Haldor, digging though her satchel for a potion. Her heart fell when she'd realized each container had been shattered by the force of possibly one of her many crash landings.
It is time, dear child...
The Night Mother's voice sounded comforting, drawing her near to the cold darkness surrounding her. First she had to kill him. She crept up behind him, clutching the Blade of Woe and preparing the last of her dulling strength to bring him to an end.
Suddenly, as if he'd sensed Ava's presence, Haldor whipped about. He shouted, his voice blasting out, the force of it enveloping her. She stood there, realizing she wasn't dead or blown away, but that a strange thought crept across the recesses of her mind. A new voice lingered in. Haldor's voice.
"End yourself, Ava." It commanded. What was this? Why did she feel the sudden urge to obey? Ava stood trembling, dumbounded and in horror as her hand began to turn the blade in her direction.
"M-Mother..." Ava rasped, now weakly crying. She didn't want it to end like this. Anything but this.
It is the Bend Will shout. He's trying to take your mind. Do not let him. Focus on my voice, child.
Breathing deep, Ava stood silent so that Haldor couldn't physically pounce at her next movement.
"Do as I say, you worthless little wretch! Put an end to your pathetic life before I do..." Haldor's voice instructed, unrelenting.
Ava caught another glimpse of the Matron, focusing on her, and fighting the force of the blade as it drew near her throat involuntarily. She poured every fiber of her being into the Night Mother's form, feeling her cold hand grab the Blade of Woe as it touched Ava's skin. Just as a trickle of blood caused Ava to wince, she felt the Mother inside her very being, pulling the blade away.
"DO IT! NOW!" Haldor's voice screamed once more, suddenly letting her mind loose from its grip as Ava's eyes grew wide and dangerous, feeling the Mother's cold skin atop her own. The darkness and ice of the Void seemed to hold her life in its very grip, now blurring her vision and muffling her hearing.
Ava screamed out, and using every fiber of her body, she pounced. Ava plunged the Blade of Woe into Haldor's throat, flinging both of them to the ground. She wearily held herself up off his writhing body as he grabbed the blade, attempting to pull it out. He jerked and trembled, fighting for his life, and losing the battle. He coughed, sputtering blood into Ava's face. It felt warm and welcoming, as she felt his soul begin to leave his dying body right before her eyes.
Unfortunately, she could feel herself beginning to drift away as well. She watched as his body began to still, his hands falling limp in his vain attempts to dislodge the dagger. His breaths were becoming more shallow, and now were barely visible to Ava's blurry vision.
Ava rolled over, now laying beside him, her face down in the snow. She could, it seemed, feel both of them dying together. With the last traces of her energy, she rolled herself over on her back, now heaving forcefully with every breath. It was as if all her energy was completely draining, being depleted with each dying gasp.
She looked up at the wintry night sky, as the storm clouds began to part, exposing the starry realm of Mundus that existed outside of her ending life on Nirn. Feeling sick and weak, the beautiful night sky began to fade. Dancing green auroras began to dim, and she felt the black blanket of death cover her body.
In response to the trauma of what was occuring, she began to softly weep between her gasps. The world was blotting out with darkness around her. Ava tried to reach pitifully for Sithis knows what, but her tired arms had succumbed to fate.
"Ssshhhh..." She witnessed as the Night Mother knelt beside her dying body, stroking her cheek affectionately. "You have served me well, my dear child. The Dragonborn lays dying with your blade in his throat, and soon the heavens will quake with his death. The Dark Brotherhood shall be reborn this very night. You've lived your life, full of suffering and tears. You have not failed me, despite your trials. I will reward you in the next realm, my dark one...Embrace the transition, my child...I'll see you soon...on the other side..."
And with that, the Night Mother leaned in, gently kissing Ava's forehead, her cold lips now turning warm as the world around Ava grew colder and colder. Her body growing limp and lifeless, she felt her whole world cave in around her. Everything imploded at once: Her mother and father, Astrid and the Dark Brotherhood, Titus Mede II, Vottur, Myles, Lielle, Maro, Violet, Temani, and lastly, Cicero. Ava's weak, trembling lips smiled faintly as thoughts of her Keeper stayed in her heart while it beat for the very last time.
"I must say, I'm happy that fate brought us together." Ulfric cheered, as Vottur's band of companions regrouped, watching the Imperials flee in a sea of red from around them.
"My only regret is that my father managed to weasel out of this, unscathed." Violet remarked, obviously disappointed that Maro was still with the living.
"Haha, that is only for the time being, girl!" Galmar shouted, cheerfully taking in the Stormcloak's victory. "Look at the mass grave of dead Imperials we've left for the ground to consume! The Legion is all but wiped off the face of Skyrim! We can practically run them down and kill them at any time we choose! Maro will be put to an end - - we'll make sure of that!" He coaxed, patting her on the back.
"You're right..." she admitted, faintly smiling. "We have weakened his forces well past anything I'd ever imagine. I'd wager that the next probable step is his death."
"Oh, it will be. Mark my words." Vottur growled, also unhappy with the fact that the bastard that killed Mina escaped practically unharmed in the matter.
Suddenly, a large roar sounded throughout the skies, quaking the ground with the loud cracking of a thousand thunders. Fleeing Imperials stumbled and fell to the ground as they ran for refuge. The whole plain of Nirn seemed to quake with whatever unknown force had burst through the skies.
"By Talos! What kind of omen is this?!" Galmar gasped, clutching the reigns of his horse tighter than before.
"I don't know, but it certainly doesn't sound good." Nazir remarked, arms folded in contemplation.
"Who knows, maybe it's Talos himself, cursing the Legion for allowing those wretched Thalmor to take him away from his people." Ulfric mused, rubbing his chin and eyeing the dancing green auroras overhead.
"MY CHILD...MY CHOSEN ONE...HEAR MY WORDS...TRAVEL TO DAWNSTAR...REUNITE WITH YOUR DARK SISTER THERE..." Vottur froze immediately, both stunned and overtaken by the low hiss in his mind. His dark eyes widened with fear and realization, as he saw Violet furrow her brow.
"Vottur...Is everything alright?" she asked worriedly.
Vottur cleared his throat, stifling back his raw emotions. "Yes...Everything is as it's supposed to be. For now, I have business to attend to in Dawnstar."
"Why in Sithis' name are you running there at a time like this?" Nazir furrowed his brow, appearing bewildered by Vottur's urgent voice.
"I can't explain it all now." He looked about himself warily, "It's Ava. It has to do with the Night Mother. I must obey."
"Oh." Nazir's features straightened, though he was clearly still baffled. "Then what do you need of me, brother?"
"I need you to go back to Falkreath and tell the good news to our family. Come to Dawnstar as soon as you're finished. If you don't mind, I need Shadowmere. I have to make haste." Vottur instructed, feeling both sick and uncertain. Was it really true? Was that the Night Mother's voice? Was Ava...
"As soon as you finish what you have to do, meet me in Windhelm as soon as possible." Ulfric instructed, interrupting Vottur's thoughts. "Please make haste. We need to finish the Legion while they are crippled. Once and for all, we can claim our lady Skyrim as our own and be free from this unjust Empire. Meanwhile..." Ulfric turned to Nazir.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to ask that you instruct your assassins to raid as many of the Legion's claimed cities as possible. Stab their guards - - slit there throats in the night. Do whatever it takes to provoke fear in the hearts of the Empire. Let them truly know that they haven't just earned the enmity of me and my men, but of you and yours."
Nazir grinned wickedly, looking back to Vottur. "What say you, brother?"
Vottur silently nodded in compliance, far too rattled to speak at the moment.
"Violet, I need you to come with us. We will need your expertise for a plan to infiltrate Castle Dour." Ulfric instructed the noble girl, who then smiled mischeviously.
"Will I get a better room this time?" she asked, teasing Ulfric, who simply chuckled at her remark.
"Yes. We will make sure of it." he said, as the group scattered, parting ways.
Vottur swallowed hard, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. He nudged Shadowmere, who quickly broke loose in a burst of speed, as if he already knew what lay ahead. Vottur, with a mixture of fear, sorrow, and uncertainty, rode the stallion into the dark of night.
Ava opened her eyes, feeling warm velvety blankets draping comfortably over her now painless body. She raised, feeling completely refreshed and energetic, her blue eyes darting about the room. Her brow furrowed deep. Wait a minute, hadn't she just died? If so, why was she waking up in Dawnstar in her big, comfortable bed? Did she survive somehow? Was it all some strange hallucination or delusion? Ava felt completely dumbfounded.
She stood from her bed, turning to straighten the blankets, but oddly, they were already straight and tidy as ever. Rubbing her chin, she began to feel off about the whole thing. Never before did her blankets just up and straighten themselves. Curiously, she searched about her room, which looked mostly the same. Mostly.
The large shelf beside her bed, usually lined with books and armor, now had strange little rag dolls propped up amongst them. Feeling completely confused, Ava picked one up, studying it. Something about it seemed very familiar. It looked quite like a little ragdoll she had when she was just a child. Shaking her head and feeling puzzled, she gently placed the doll back on the shelf, examining the rest of her surroundings.
The mannequin at the far end of her room, usually garbed with her shrouded armor, which she strangely was not wearing at the moment, was now donning the old wedding garments her mother Rosalia had passed down to her long ago. Okay, now something was very off.
She turned to her desk, now spotting her childhood books and journals scattered across it, with various favorite jewels and trinkets from her youth. The strange smell of fresh lavender filled the room, as she breathed it in, feeling strangely peaceful. Where exactly was she? Was she trapped in some strange space between past and present?
Suddenly, a gentle tapping arrived on the other side of her large, wooden door. Suspiciously raising an eyebrow, Ava answered, "Come in", not sure who was standing on the other side.
She watched the door knob slowly turn, as a very familar man entered her room. He was the same as she'd always remembered, but also completely different. Lucien LaChance stood, smiling widely in her doorway. He was no longer a pale blue spectral illusion, but a living, breathing man standing before her. He reached out a hand to her in a gentlemanly manner, bowing slightly. "Welcome, Ava."
Stricken silent with shock, Ava could say nothing. She simply responded by placing her trembling hand in his own. His hand felt warm and full of life, as she rubbed his skin, entranced by his human form. She looked into his eyes, which were mischievous, yet welcoming. He simply grinned, leading her out of her room and vanishing into the dark corridor ahead.