Chapter 20: A Strike to the Head

They were running, sprinting fiercely through one corridor and then another, ignoring the medley of voices which kept approaching slowly as the inhabitants of this surreal place started realizing that something was wrong. Aislinn felt exhausted, her legs shaking and threatening to buckle under the constant strain. The two potions Lucia had made her drink had helped her stand her ground down at the laboratory but they would not be enough to dismiss the effect of the prolonged torture, both on her mind and body, she had been exposed to for the last five days. Just five days… and it had felt like an eternity to her. She had barely been allowed to sleep, her captors preventing her mind from drifting away to the soothing blackness of her inner world. Whenever she would faint and fall into the calming slumber, she would be forced awake and made a toy for her enemies.

And then there were the rotstones – awful things which decomposed the dragon part of her body. They affected mind as well, embracing it with stupefying force, spreading a numb feeling through her whole being. Even the dragon souls inside her were affected, falling still and silent, and although she was afraid of the turmoil they frequently caused in her mind, this silence made her even more agitated. The only one who appeared to fare well against the repugnant decay the cursed gems inflicted was Paarthurnax, calling to her at crucial moments without failure as he felt her falter and lose her resolve. He would always be there for her, ready to pull her out of a desperate situation. Nevertheless, she did not know how to deal with the stones herself and they seemed to weaken her permanently, taking a part of her with them every time she had been exposed to their influence.

She was catching her breath as they ran and felt her heart beating wildly. Before her was Lucia, sticking closely to Brynjolf at the front who was running ponderously, his footsteps heavy in the daedric armor he was still wearing, but despite that, Aislinn had a hard time keeping up with the two of them. She was silent, denying herself the right to complain, and only gasped quietly when she staggered for the second time already. She was on the verge of Shouting again to close the distance between her and the door which waited for them at the end of the corridor but she knew it would not be worth it. It would only drain more strength from her and catch the attention of the elves who were sure to look for her soon. And so she gritted her teeth and kept running.

They entered the round chamber with a fountain in its center, the sparkling sprays of water now pulsating in light blue and yellow light coming from an unknown source, for it was now dark behind the tall windows which loomed above the eight exits opening along the walls. There was a Bosmer guard running towards them from the direction of a huge marble archway, and on his tail ran a group of Altmer with furious expressions.

"That's him!" the Bosmer yelled, pointing at Brynjolf accusingly. "The one who came with the fake Reinya Talwen!"

"And the Dragonborn as well," one of the hooded Altmer hissed.

Aislinn was glad that she had saved her Shout. She wasted no time, the moment the elves appeared at her sight, she moved aside so she would not hit her companions and sent all of the group flying.

"Where to?!" she called to Brynjolf imploringly. He darted out at once, heading to the other side of the chamber. The exit was locked.

"Damn it, Nocturnal curse it!" he shouted. Aislinn ran to him, pushed him aside and shot a fireball at the door. Two other followed until it burned to ashes, but the elves were now on their feet again, making their way to the trio.

Aislinn's mind raced desperately. They would not make it unless some kind of obstacle for the elves appeared. She did not trust herself to be able to fight in this condition. She could barely stand, let alone swing her blade and face so many enemies at once. An obstacle…

She raised her right hand.

"I really don't want to do this," she informed the elves quietly. Then, an ethereal hooded figure materialized before her. Everyone in the chamber stopped and gasped as the glowing image spoke.

"Lead, and I will follow, Child of Darkness."

"Who in Oblivion…" Brynjolf whispered.

"The Void, actually," the spirit corrected him.

"Keep them busy," Aislinn ordered hastily, pushing the thief into the corridor as well as the little girl who scuttled to her side.

"My Listener," he replied with a nod and she could hear him laugh as he prepared for the havoc he would soon wreak. Still, it was just one assassin, and despite being insanely strong, he would soon be overcome. Time played against them and Aislinn urged to move on.

The corridor descended steeply and Aislinn's legs trembled as her feet tried to find good spots to land on. She had never realized before how much effort a human body had to put into walking downhill but now hers was trying desperately to keep its balance.

Just a few more steps, she kept telling herself. Keep it up, it will soon be over…

And then there came the moment when she could not concentrate on both controlling the body and encouraging herself anymore, and her legs gave way, letting her body fall down on the ground with a thud. She was panting heavily and myriads of colorful sprites of various shapes danced before her eyes, twisting and turning, joining, intertwining and splitting again. From the distance, she heard Lucia's frightened voice.

"Mama!" she called to her and Aislinn could soon feel her small, delicate fingers touch her back. Then there was another hand, big and reassuring one.

"Lass, what's wrong?" Brynjolf asked, his voice beyond concerned. She tried to clear her vision and look at him but did not manage so. "Can you stand?"

She shivered when his hand touched her forehead. It was freezing cold! Or was it?

"Oh gods," he breathed and she felt her limbs fall loose as he lifted her up. Then, a noise came from behind and he broke into a gallop.

Shouts and screams resonated through the passage and Aislinn closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wanted to help but for now she could not think of any other way than to stay still in Brynjolf's arms and try to burden him as little as possible. The limb underneath her legs shifted a little and she heard him sigh in slight appreciation. Then she felt the world swirl about her and opened her eyes in surprise. Her vision was clear now but the image before her was not much different from before. Then the colors faded and she saw a small chamber which quickly evanesced into darkness as Brynjolf rushed into a tunnel lit by dimly glowing crystals of light blue. Then, another elven figure stood in front of them and the thief halted at once, tightening his grip so he would not drop Aislinn. They were trapped.

"Put me down, Brynjolf," she said quietly.

"No." The answer was curt and resolute, not giving any room for argumentation. Except this was Aislinn he was talking to.

"They cannot kill me. Put me down."

"I won't let them drag you away again."

She looked at the approaching elves. Currently, the one in the gravest danger was Lucia, unarmed and helpless and not being able to rely on a burden of porcelain ware which must not be broken at any cost. Brynjolf was safe for the time being but the little girl was not. Aislinn swallowed hard.

She only had one more weapon left which she could use without much effort and she hated to use it just as much as she had hated to summon Lucien Lachance. After all, the power of Hermaeus Mora was not one to be tampered with and the Daedric Prince commanding it proved a fickle friend. But she was not left with much choice and so she raised her hand again and a tangle of slithery tentacles emerged from the ground underneath the feet of the elf blocking the passage before them, writhing about him, slipping under his robes and leaving traces of rot on his skin. He screamed in horror and so did Lucia.

"We have to go," Aislinn urged, directing the words at both of her startled companions. Brynjolf contained himself quickly and darted out, kicking the wretched elf in the shin on his way. Lucia followed and ran past the elf swiftly, keeping the distance between her and the tentacles as great as she could.

Then there was the freezing fresh air, stinging Aislinn in her cheeks. If not for the fever, she would have welcomed the energizing sensation, but it felt paralyzing at the moment and she started trembling heavily. A wild and happy neigh greeted her and she raised her head to look at approaching Shadowmere.

"Shade," she whispered. The stallion spared her any unnecessary gestures, lowering on his knees immediately to let her climb on. Brynjolf set her on his back gently and paused.

"He can carry the three of us a short distance," Aislinn told him wearily. "Don't worry, Shade is no wimp. It would be a different story if I wore an armor and Lucia was troll-sized."

With that, she made room at the front for her daughter and let the thief settle behind her and put his arms around her waist. The door behind them opened and an ice bolt swished through the air, finding Aislinn's right upper arm. She gasped a little and urged Shadowmere to gallop. The horse darted at once, leaping on the road beneath the low cliff.

"Across," Aislinn said to him softly. "Take the cliff on the other side of the road."

"Lass, we're not going to make this!" Brynjolf exhaled in dismay but she shook her head.

"Trust me," she pleaded. And so he did.

Shadowmere hopped over the rocks on the other side of the road, his movements reminiscent of those of a mountain goat. A few times Aislinn thought she would fall down and meet her doom but her red-haired companion always managed to catch her in time. She felt so weak and exhausted… but she had to hold on just a bit longer. Just two miles or so and they would be safe.

She tugged the reins and guided them north, around the snowy steep cliffs which surrounded the rocky mountain they had just left. Somewhere on its very top stood the Thalmor Embassy, and the elves occupying it would soon send more pursuers after them. She made it seem like a poorly concealed attempt to escape along the sea on the north, and then, when a series of pointed rocks and a grove of pine trees and bushes hid them from the elves' sight, she commanded Shadowmere to take a sharp turn to their left. The black horse took a winding path through more cliffs and pine trees before turning left again and making for the Statue to Meridia. The path was steep and slippery and Brynjolf wondered time and time again how the beast could surmount it so easily. But he did and then a stairway opened before them, descending through a series of solitary stone arches along a high platform on which the statue of Meridia stood in all its beauty, mighty wings spreading around the hooded frame of a siren, its hands stretched up, their palms facing each other as if they were trying to grasp Secunda which was shining dimly aloft its head. And underneath the platform on its right side, carved in the rock which supported it, was the entrance to Kilkreath Temple.

"We'll be safe here," Aislinn uttered weakly when Shadowmere stopped before the door. The three of them slid off the horse, Brynjolf supporting the heavily shaking Aislinn from her side, and entered the door, the black stallion, although most unwilling, included. It was the first time Brynjolf welcomed the snowstorm that was coming from the north as it would blanket the ground with a fresh cover of white and erase the trace which could lead the elves to the shrine.

The moment the door closed behind them, Aislinn went weak in her knees and Brynjolf quickly caught her as she fell. She had fallen unconscious, her chest rising and dropping in a rapid pace with every shallow breath she took. Brynjolf realized with a more than apparent trace of concern in his face that this fight had not ended for her. Her fever had worsened and he had to act quickly if he was to help her.

He took her in his arms again, carrying her around and studying the place hastily. Lucia and Shadowmere stayed by the entrance for the time being, the little girl sitting wearily with her back to the wall of the tunnel they had entered.

The great passageway made in stone decorated with ornate ancient Nord carvings led to a wide chamber lit by strange beacons. Pillars of stone and ornate pedestals rose up from the ground and brackets protruded from the walls, holding spheres of brightly glowing white light which beamed from one beacon to another, creating a path through the vast complex. It was an astonishing sight and were it not for the urgency of the situation, he would gladly just stand there and admire the structure for a while. At that moment, though, he just quickly studied the massive walls, the floor and fallen boulders which lay there covered in dust, the elegant beacons and the stairways which connected several platforms rising from the ground and leading further into another tunnel. The path then descended, a number of stairs providing access to an even greater chamber with a series of benches in its lowest level. He took the stairs on its right to ascend to another platform and then to a room situated at the far end of the chamber. The room seemed nice and cozy and a blow of fresh air coming from a vent which opened nearby welcomed him as he stepped in. He carefully laid Aislinn there and returned to the bigger chamber.

There were several shelves just outside the entrance to the smaller room, holding a set of pots and a great number of linen wraps; to Brynjolf's joy, most of them were unused. He grabbed an armful and returned to Aislinn, making a soft bed for her and wrapping her injured arm in one of them tightly. The blankets he had carried with him while chasing Marilis were probably still in the cave where Shadowmere had waited and he doubted he would ever see them again. Then he took off his backpack and grabbed the last remaining bottle of water he had. Having spilled a good amount of the cold liquid over one of the wraps, he stretched the cloth and put it over the lass's forehead. He gave her one last concerned glance before he grabbed two of the pots from one of the shelves and darted back to Lucia.

He hated the idea of sending the tired little girl outside to the raging storm and the world of bloodthirsty Thalmor but saw no other solution. He would not leave the lass's side and so he handed Lucia the pots and sent her to fetch some water.

"If you don't find a spring, just put some fresh snow in there and we'll melt it here," he told her wearily. She nodded and left the tunnel, letting a gust of cold air blow inside as she opened the door. Brynjolf turned around and gestured to Shadowmere to follow him. He led him to the second chamber and left him by the benches. The horse would be fine, never demanding any food or care whatsoever. He had to praise him silently for having noticed the lass immediately when they had appeared on the cliff, for his prompt reaction had probably saved all of their lives. It sure had its advantages to have an intelligent creature of the Void as a companion, never mind how scary the black stallion could be.

Brynjolf shook his head and took a deep breath to clear his mind. He finally changed back into his beloved light armor, setting the mighty daedric harness in the corner of the smaller room, right next to the lass. He slid down and sat on the floor, leaning against the cold wall behind him, and watched her closely, studying her slender figure and pale face. How thin she had become in just five days. She looked like a different person, her skin almost paper-white, seemingly ready to crumble under the slightest pressure. It was his fault. He should have protected her, stay close to her instead of planning a stupid robbery which had backfired at the wrong direction. Even now he feared, scared that she might not wake up and afraid of facing her if she did. And he was tired. So tired…

It was the last thought that occurred to him before his eyelids drooped and his chin dropped on his chest when he fell into a deep slumber.

Aislinn woke up to a slightly amusing sight of Brynjolf with his back pressed against the wall and crooked to his right, his neck bent so his head hung limply, swinging a touch between his chest and his right shoulder. She felt pressure from her left side and realized that Lucia was sleeping right next to her, her small frame leaning against her mama, head buried in between the pile of linen cloths which covered Aislinn and her hip. She stroked her hair gently and moved the girl into the bed as she rose.

The world went spinning and she had to lean to the wall in order not to fall. She was still feeling extremely exhausted but her body demanded attention. She felt three extreme needs at once. An immense hunger, thirst that was scorching her withered throat and the insanely urgent need to use the privy. She prioritized the latter, staggering through the vast complex, following the light of the beacons through the corridor on the left of the chamber which opened beneath the doorway from the cozy room she had slept in, then down another vast chamber, climbing up a wooden ramp up to the far end of the temple until she reached an ornate door leading to a terrace.

Feeling refreshed and slightly more relaxed, she returned to the small room in a slow pace. She found two jars filled with seemingly fresh water and downed one of them instantly.

Two slices of bread and a carrot were the only things she found in Brynjolf's backpack and so she dug in with appetite that could not be conquered. She helped herself to another healing potion from a small bag which lay at Lucia's feet and grimaced at the stinging sensation which spread through her body, especially acute in her right upper arm. There were several more potions in the bag and…

She picked up the pearl dragon claw curiously, studying it in her hands. So Lucia had met with Marilis. There was so much she wanted to ask the little girl. Just what in Oblivion had happened to her, how had she been able to keep her cool in all that chaos, where had the peculiar golden flames which had singed the rotstones away come from, how come that she had come to her rescue prepared and had refused to falter… this was not the Lucia she had known and it scared her. Then again, Lucia was not the only one who had been changed by the hand of the cursed Thalmor.

She had changed as well. Most of her confidence was gone as she realized that she was not the invincible hero she had made herself out to be. She was neither the strongest nor the wisest. In fact, she had been a fool to act like that and her actions had put the ones she loved in danger.

Brynjolf must hate me now, she thought remorsefully and watched the thief's sleeping face as a lock of red hair slid over his left cheek. Even so, he had come to her rescue, across all Skyrim and even further, to some weird dimension that the Thalmor had set up as their headquarters, fighting countless enemies, allying with a traitor just so he could save her. If it was not for him, she would still be fighting the Black Dragon now, screaming in pain and…

She put a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes in terror. He had seen it. Brynjolf had seen her there, bare and helpless at the hands of a possessed Khajiit who craved to humiliate her utterly and make her succumb to him. He had seen him touch her chest and thighs, play with her body in a twisted amusement, make her moan with pain and, as she realized in shock, pleasure… and maybe he had seen their mouths join in that lustful kiss which she still felt burning her lips and petrifying her body except for her heart which threatened to throb its way out of her chest.

Bravo, World-Eater, she thought bitterly, shaking against the cold wall behind her back. You did manage to humiliate me after all. How am I going to face him? I can't say a word to him. Not about this…

She got up at once and picked up her daedric armor, putting it on hastily, ignoring the unpleasant feeling of Ri'saad's tunic folding up beneath it. She did not even notice the strange shape of the left gauntlet as some of the thin horn-like protrusions were missing. Having taken her swords and put Brynjolf's bow over her back along with the quiver that went with it, she rushed through the complex back to the terrace, the snow that covered it blinding her in the midday sun. A clump of energy welled up in her and Aislinn felt like exploding at once. She wanted to scream and vent it but suppressed the need, knowing that she would attract unwanted attention.

She took the narrow bridge on her left spanning over a shelfy hollow and the stairs which led up to the entrance to Kilkreath Ruins and rushed through the door. Hopping through the tunnel and over the stairways, traversing a vast room with several stone bridges and wooden ramps, she made her way through the maze and entered the catacombs. There she stood at the very beginning of the tunnel and finally screamed from the top of her lungs.

"Curse you, Alduin! Take my energy, take my body and my soul, for all I care… but you took my dignity as well! Oblivion take you! May you die a horrible death in its fires! I detest you… and I will kill you once and for all!"

She breathed heavily but the pain in her chest slowly dulled. Her frame slid along the wall, she sat down on the floor and took off her helmet, studying the crevices between the stones under her feet absent-mindedly. The echo of her own voice still reverberated in her head, accompanied by the silent humming of the beacons in the chamber ahead, but aside from that, it was fairly quiet and she was allowed to listen to the cacophony of her own thoughts swirling about in her mind. First Lucia, then Brynjolf and her humiliation… and now a new one sprang to life in her head, pulling her down like a burden of the size of whole Nirn which it truly was.

"I will kill you once and for all!" she had cried. But that surely was impossible. Slowly she started realizing the cruelty of her fate. She was bound to the World-Eater. Sooner or later they would become one, just as he had wanted, but the other way around.

"The thing is that unless you devour the soul of the World-Eater, he's going to keep coming back."

Devour his soul, that was what Sinawen had said. He could not be defeated. No dragon could. Their souls resided in herself, tugging at the strings of her sanity, the only soothing voice in her being Paarthurnax. And how vexing it must be for them to be deprived of their freedom, stripped of their winged frames to be squeezed in her fragile human form which would never soar. How agonizing to look at the world from the solid binding ground, to have to gaze with eyes small as two pearls and watch the tree branches from below. And she did feel their frustration, the fear of the dark constricted space in her soul which had closed its tight walls around them.

Paarthurnax, she called to him in her thoughts and waited, but the answer did not come. She was afraid of the future, for whatever it would bring, it would not be anything pleasant. It was either be defeated and become one with the World-Eater, or be victorious and force the Black Dragon to become one with her.

Paarthurnax, she called again, her inner voice trembling with agitation. What do I do?

But again, the inside of her mind and soul was quiet, as if her teacher refused her. She felt a little betrayed and a feeling of emptiness crept into her mind. The paralyzing pain in her heart returned and she sighed with uneasiness.

Then, the door beside her burst open suddenly and she raised her head in alarm, finding herself staring into Brynjolf's face which shifted at once from a frightened expression to sheer fury, the pale shade of his cheeks quickly turning bright red as the hot blood flushed in.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped at her without proper greeting.

She was silent, startled by his sudden rage and the way he had talked to her, so different from his usual demeanor. She felt her heart shrink and ache with sudden insecurity, fearing the angry sparks in his eyes even more than she feared Alduin.

"What are you doing here?" he repeated and his voice turned dangerously low. "Do you know how long I was looking for you?!"

Now, or when Marilis dragged me away? she wondered in her thoughts but did not dare pronounce it. And it did not matter, for the red-haired thief was utterly enraged with her and she was sure he had grown fed up with babysitting her.

"Are you going to answer? Or have you turned mute? Or deaf? Did the World-Eater rid you of your senses?!"

She wanted to answer but could not find the words, nor would she be able to overcome the heavy clump which had settled in her throat. Maybe he had wanted to say "your senses as well"? In a way, yes, Alduin had rid her of her senses. Her current situation was maddening and she felt like she was losing herself even more than before. Without even thinking, she got up on her feet and backed away. She was afraid of confronting Brynjolf and more than anything she wanted to seclude herself and hide from his wrath.

Then, when he stepped forward, she just turned around and darted away.

"Stop!" he called to her. "Don't run away, just…"

He gave up and followed her, chasing her wildly around. There was nothing beyond the curved tunnel but a wide chamber with a locked door on the other side and three beacons, the one in the middle standing on a large stepped platform. She circled it and rushed back to the tunnel, trying to outrun the thief and reach the ruins before he could catch a glimpse of her. Upon entering the upper level, she rushed to one of the wooden ramps in the central chamber, climbed it quickly and entered a small room behind a trapped door, stepping aside to avoid a number of spikes shooting from the ground as it opened. She closed it behind her again but it made no difference. The thief found her immediately, panting a lot less than the still exhausted Dragonborn.

She was driven into a corner. Suppressing the sudden urge to draw her swords elicited partially by the beast that she half was, she backed to the corner created by the rear wall and the wooden shelf on her right. Now there was no way out and she wanted to just disappear. The feeling of helplessness took over her and she cringed to the wall behind her, closing her eyes, for she refused to look at her pursuer and guardian in one.

There was a moment of silence, deep and heavy as she awaited the storm of his rage fall upon her. Then she felt him drag her back on her feet and his arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace. She opened her eyes at once but could only see the back of his red mop.

"I am sorry," he said quietly, his voice even hoarser than usual. "It's just… I can't even imagine… I'm so sorry. You are so hurt… and I'm so scared."

"Of what?" Aislinn finally managed to speak to him, however cracked her voice sounded.

"Of losing you," he whispered, and with that he pushed her back slightly and his lips met hers in a sweet gentle kiss which vacated Aislinn's mind faster than a strike to the head.

So… my job went well and very fast, I also managed to play some League of Legends, have a good long walk, fill my boyfriend's stomach and read a good deal of Anne McCaffrey's Chronicles of Pern (do read them if you haven't, it's just so beautiful!). And the chapter still wrote itself so I'm starting to think my life is pretty amazing. :D

This chapter is full of emotions which, I think, is kind of new in the story, but I'd say it's important for Aislinn and Brynjolf to sort things out a little. That said, they still won't have it easy.

Now for some entertainment – I had this conversation with a certain friend of mine which really made me laugh:

Friend: My sister expressed concern for you… she says you might be addicted to Skyrim since she always sees you in game when she logs in to her Steam account.
Me: Well… you see, I don't really play. I'm just writing a freaking long fanfic and every time I need to study the land or anything in the game, I have to play the game. And then I just let it on since I don't want to have to exit it and then launch it again after a while.
Friend: I see. Well, she's just jealous anyway, apparently she really wanted to play Skyrim but still doesn't have the game. So, how did it occur to you to write a Skyrim fanfic?
Me: Cuz I love the world.
Friend: Is it so awesome? I don't play so I don't know, I just saw a few videos and I like the sceneries.
Me: It's epic as hell and there's that sexy guy in the Thieves Guild which definitely has to be paired up with my character.
Friend: So… is your character a guy?
Me: NO!
Friend: Awww. My sister guessed a fanfic about gay mages.

Uhm… so, no, I will NOT write a fanfic about gay mages. :D You see, some of you might have noticed that I actually do have two boys love fics published here… but I'm not such a hardcore yaoi fangirl to see crappy gay pairings where they are not. And I am straight and I made Aislinn a lot after myself so… yeah. :D

To the Guest who kindly commented on my last chapter: Thank you for clarifying your last review. I feel honored to receive your first review here and even more honored to earn my fanfic a comparison to a novel. Wow. Thank you!

To everyone: I hope you liked the chapter and thanks for reading it. Reviews, favs, likes etc. much appreciated. :)

Mirwen