The Heart of a Daedra
By The Grey Knight
Chapter 20:
The road back to Solitude, seat of the High King was relatively easy due to the location of the embassy, just west of the capital. Although he had just walked through a Thalmor embassy with the Champion of Cyrodil, Sjern still felt as if the Orc was far more powerful than he let on. Sunclaw, a powerful enemy that he himself, along with three other powerful companions, could not defeat, Jar'mey had done so in a matter of minutes and unscathed at that. Pushing the thought from his mind, Sjern decided to initiate conversation.
"Are you nervous?" He asked Jar'mey, talking about his impending coronation.
The Cyrodilian sighed as he walked.
"About as nervous as one can be after two hundred years of being in hiding." He stopped and looked at Sjern. "These people may not accept an Orc as High King. They will want a Nord or Imperial to sit upon the throne. Who is to say that they will listen to me Dragonborn?"
Not expecting this, Sjern just shook his head.
"I cannot say for sure that they will all accept you immediately. But Orcs are not hated in this land. At least, not the Race. Obviously you can get Skooma dealers or Bandits who are Orcs. But these people will know that you are an honourable Orc, by the Nine you wear the Divine Relics as your chosen armour. If that is not proof enough for them to trust you, then I do not know what is."
Sjern's words seemed to put Jar'mey at ease. The powerful Orc started walking again, catching up with Sjern.
"Thank you Dragonborn. This great honour you do me will not be forgotten."
Sjern nodded firmly and the pair walked on in silence as the gates of Solitude came into view. The usual two guards stood proudly on either side of the gate, their Imperial swords sheathed. Nodding in greeting to Sjern, they allowed him and Jar'mey easy access into the city. As the gate closed over, one of the guards nodded again and said,
"Good to have the High King return to his throne."
Sjern smiled to himself, Elsyif and Tullius had obviously spread word of the new High King around Solitude at least. Many of the passer-bys would stop and wave heartily to their new King, greeting him both formally and informally. When they passed the Solitude Blacksmith, Beirand rushed over from his forge, a small, beautifully crafted dagger in his hand.
"My liege, as pointless as this gift may seem, I saw it fitting that the first gift you should receive should be from Solitude herself. I spent many an hour in the crafting of this fine dagger. May it serve you well Sire."
Accepting the dagger, Jar'mey thanked the smith, assuring him that it would be on his belt at all times. This seemed to please the smith, who bowed his head before returning to his forge. Attaching the blade to his belt as he said he would, the new High King of Skyrim continued past the blacksmith's. The walk past the Castle Dour was more of the same. All that had changed was the armour the soldiers now wore. Rather than the Imperial Armour, the soldiers now trained in their normal clothes, waiting for the universal set of armour that the army of Skyrim would receive.
Walking past Proudspire Manor, Sjern pointed to the oaken front door.
"My own manor in this city. Cost me a mere twenty thousand gold."
"A home fit for a Hero." Jar'mey replied, looking at the residence of the Dragonborn.
When they finally reached the courtyard of the Blue Palace, a small surprise was waiting there for them. The Jarls of Skyrim as well as Infernus, Shadowfang, Knight Zacharias, Serana, Arngeir, Galmar Stonefist, General Tullius and a tall, bulky Nord wearing the Companion's Wolf Armour. The Nord didn't look at all familiar but he held himself in a way that suggested some form of nobility but with a hint of a wild streak. His eyes were bright yellow allowing Sjern, who knew what that colour of eye meant, to deduce that he was a Werewolf, quite like himself. With a pang, Sjern's thoughts immediately drifted to Aela once again.
Sjern was in the mead hall of Jorrvaskr, sitting alone with a bottle of Nord mead and a slice of bread. Hearing the door open, he turned his head, merely to see the door swing shut with no one nearby. Standing up and drawing one of his Daedric Daggers, he looked around the mead hall. As he looked to the right, a blurred figure slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. Groaning in pain, he looked at his attacker, who now had a dagger to his throat.
"Gotcha again Sjern!" Aela taunted victoriously.
Sjern laughed at the she-wolf's taunt, realising he should have expected it to be her. They were always trying to catch the other off guard.
"Not this time woman!" Sjern replied, knowing of Aela's hatred of being called 'woman'.
Rolling to the left, he threw Aela off of him and pounced back up to his feet. Quickly rushing over to her, he kicked her dagger from her hand, drew his second Daedric Dagger and stood over her.
"You have to be quicker my dear. Otherwise this wolf will be on the prowl for another day."
Chuckling, he sheathed his dagger and offered her a hand up, which she accepted. Getting very close to him, the master archer of the Companions whispered.
"You got me this time Dragonborn, but what happens if I sneak in on you whilst you sleep?"
Smirking, Sjern simply replied.
"Then you'd better be ready for a fight Aela, I'm a light sleeper."
His words earned him a laugh from the she-wolf who stepped back a little.
"We'll see about that. I can be quite… disarming when I want to be."
And with that, she retreated down to her quarters, hips swaying as she walked.
Pulled from his reverie, Sjern realised everyone was looking at him.
"Is everything alright Dragonborn?" Jarl Balgruuf asked him.
"Yes, forgive me I was merely daydreaming. What were we talking of?"
It was the tall Nord who replied.
"We are waiting for you Dragonborn. The coronation is being held up due to your daydreaming."
Apologising again, Sjern indicated for everyone else to go in before him. Serana however, waited behind, clearly wanting to talk to Sjern. She stopped him from entering the Blue Palace, her arms folded and foot tapping.
"Is something the matter?" Sjern asked her. "Have I done something wrong?"
Serana shook her head sadly, despite her posture, she clearly was more upset than angry.
"I…. I have a request Dragonborn. I…. I want to be mortal."
Sjern was shocked. Surely she didn't mean what he thought she meant.
"I'm going away for a while Sjern. I have some things I'd like to take care of. There's a man in Cyrodil, ancestor of Melisande, known curer of vampirism. Should everything go well, I will return to Proudspire Manor and send you a message. There is a chance however, that this will be the last time we see each other."
Sjern could feel a lump build in his throat. After all they had been through, all the adventures and quests, she was leaving for Cyrodil. He understood why but he couldn't help but feel just a little bit angry that she would do this. Just as he opened his mouth to try and speak, Serana completely surprised him…. by kissing him. Her lips were soft but they had a strange, exhilarating taste off of them. Then, as quickly as it happened, it ended. Serana stepped away from him, her eyes laden with tears. With a final word of farewell, she strode away from the Blue Palace, leaving Sjern broken-hearted for the second time in his life. Dropping to his knees, he bowed his head and simply allowed the tears to fall.
"Farewell Serana. May your path lead you back to me someday."
Yes, yes I know what you're all thinking. "Da Hell was that bro?"
I thought this story needed an attempt at a sob story. It's not my best piece of work, and it is very sudden, but that's how some of these things happen. You fall in love, then one day, they go off to another country to try and cure their Vampirism. Anyways, if you read the reviews you probably already have an idea of who that Nord guy is. Thanks to Speedster101 for his OC and thanks to everyone for reading.
Talos guide you all! Peace