There isn't much we can do for the children, besides make them comfortable. Hilde is trying to feed blue mountain flowers to everyone, and I've got a pot on with fresh water, steeping blisterwort and wheat to try and make a rudimentary tonic. Skorm isn't well either, in a worse condition than Jorell, and Skjoren is sitting between them, staring into space as he holds both of their hands. I think it's finally settling in to his mind that his stupid little stunt might kill them.
I'm furious, but it's not a draconic fury – it's entirely Brighid. She keeps chipping in, suggesting ways to make him pay, but I keep trying to shake her out of my head.
The little girl, Laela, whose mother has been crying since she passed out, is the closest to not waking up. Hilde is with her the most, but healing magics don't exactly fix poisons unless the poison can be drawn out of the body first.
"How long did he say he'd be?" Brand asks. I almost leap out of my skin, looking up in alarm. Wasn't he also affected?
"You were on the ground in pain not ten minutes ago," I tell him, "Are you okay?"
"Let's say I'm a devout man and leave it at that," he says, his voice dark. Freia is clinging to him still, her thumb jammed into her mouth as she stares around with wide, frightened eyes. I sigh, looking back down at the poor attempt of a brew I'm making.
"He didn't say how long he'd be," I tell Brand. It's been at least thirty minutes, but I know that finding his way in the dark is going to slow—
The door flies open as Hadvar charges in, carrying a bundle of cloth with a number of red flowers visible within. It takes me a moment to realise its his shirt, turned into a makeshift carry-bag. He goes straight to Hilde, who redirects him to a nearby table that she sweeps clear. I look at Brand, whose jaw looks set as he watches Hadvar carefully.
"Is there another track up to the forest?" I ask Brand. He breaks the staring lock with Hadvar, looking at me and shrugging.
"Lots of tracks if you're sure-footed." He brushes past me, to where Hilde is spreading the flowers out on the table, wrenching the flower heads off the stems and passing them to Kaleb, Thelessa, Hadvar, and Brand when he joins them. I stand back, watching as they take them to the people visibly suffering the poison's effects. Kaleb, I notice, goes straight over to the mother and helps her feed the petals then the bud to the young child.
They move fast, which is probably helped by the fact that most people seem happy to have something of an antidote. I want to join them, but it looks like they have everyone pretty well covered. I glance down at the tonic I was mixing up, which might not be needed anymore – I feel like I didn't do anything to help, despite being one of the few who could have.
"It isn't going to work immediately, but it'll halt the poison's effects," Hilde says as I join her by the table, once everyone seems to have been given something. There's still a handful of flowers, but she seems satisfied that she's taken care of everyone. "I'd keep an eye on symptoms for you and your partner, too; not sure how he did it but I saw him eating the stew. He just doesn't seem affected by it."
Like Brand. I look over to where Hadvar is reassuring Andrinius, smiling with obvious relief as he slaps the legionnaire lightly on the shoulder, standing and moving on to the next person. He hasn't replaced his shirt yet, and I realise I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes off his chest. He just sprinted, what, at least a kilometre in under thirty minutes, and he hasn't even broken a sweat.
You've never seen Ondolemar with his shirt off.
I groan, throwing my head back as she resurfaces. What, now she's trying to pull some "forbidden fruit" bullshit? I have to remind myself Hadvar is seeing someone, and turn my attention back to Hilde.
"What else is redwort good for?" I ask. She shrugs.
"I've never really used it before. I know Maren – the farmer at the base – grows it in a big field, but I didn't know we had patches of it in the forest." She shrugs, sweeping the flowers and stems off the shirt. "I'll have to cultivate some in the garden. Never know when it might come in handy."
She picks up the shirt, turning to scan the room for Hadvar, but as she sees him she hesitates, and puts the shirt back on the table, glancing at me. I raise my eyebrows as that silent feminine communication seems to occur, and she blushes slightly, turning away.
"I think we'll let the captain come and claim his own shirt," she says in a low whisper, trying not to giggle as she glances at him again. I can't hold back a light chuckle – healers are some of the weirdest people, surrounded by injury and illness and yet able to maintain a sense of humour. I take the shirt and cross the room to Hadvar, holding it up for him.
"In case you get cold," I tease him. He seems much more relaxed now the danger is apparently sorted. He smirks, taking the shirt.
"Ruining Hilde's fun?" He asks, pulling it over his head, "And here I thought you'd be right alongside her."
"I've seen you shirtless before," I roll my eyes, "Besides, you've got that sweetheart in Dragon Bridge. I'm not gonna be a homewrecker."
"Right," he nods slowly, looking away. "Yeah, uh, she's not the jealous type, if that's any consolation."
"I still prefer not to tread on her toes," I tell him. "You're basically my best friend, Hadvar. I'm glad you've found someone who makes you happy."
"And what about you?"
His question takes me by surprise, and I know he sees it in my expression. He starts to stammer something, but someone calls to him and I look over to see Hilde waving at me. We separate, but I glance back at him as he crouches beside one of his other men.
Skjoren refuses to leave his boys, and Bjorn, though pissed that he tried to kill everyone, reluctantly allows him to sleep in the hall for the night, along with Kaleb. I figure it's not as though anybody could fight him, since most of the locals struggle to walk home and the legionnaires need to be helped up the stairs. There's a silent promise, though, that this isn't yet over, and as Hadvar and I help Rorian back to his bed, Hadvar reassures his lieutenant that they'll definitely be addressing it in the morning.
I find myself struggling to sleep again, but not from the cold – apparently I'm still running a fever from burning out my magicka, so I'm protected against the cold it seems.
"I'm glad you've found someone who makes you happy."
"And what about you?"
I can't sleep because Hadvar's question keeps circling around in my mind. Am I happy with Ondolemar? I don't know anymore, but one thing is for certain – the next time I see him, I need to apologise for being a right prick. If nothing else, this entire experience here has been... sobering.
There's a fine line between confidence and arrogance, and right now I'm starting to question if I've crossed it. I keep overestimating my abilities, certain that I can control everything, that I can make it work – instead, every time I say "it'll be fine", I end up getting proven wrong. They didn't need me at all tonight, which while I think that's great and I love to see communities working together and winning, it still feels like a harsh reminder that I'm not the hero everyone likes to paint me as – the hero I seem to think I am, too.
I kick the furs off and roll out of the bed. Cold air is good for clearing the head, and I guess a wander out to the track couldn't hurt.
Skjoren is sleeping soundly downstairs, loud snores almost rattling the bottles on the counter. There's a few others here, too, including Kaleb and Skjoren's sons. I glance into the shadowy areas beyond the light of the hearth fire, but there doesn't appear to be anybody on watch tonight. Hoping not to disturb anyone sleeping in the hall, I creep across the room and edge the door open just enough to slip out quietly.
There's a sense of being watched even as I close the door, and I look around to see Hadvar leaning against one of the posts. I swear he was in his bed upstairs just a few minutes ago – how the hell did he get down here so fast?
"You seem to pull the short straw a lot," I comment, joining him on the verandah. He smirks slightly.
"Did I ever mention I don't sleep well?"
"You need to sleep at some point, though," I tell him, folding my arms as I lean on the verandah post opposite him, mimicking his pose. "Especially after tonight."
He arches a brow and I wave a hand towards the hall. "You ate from the same stew everyone else did. You would have been poisoned, too. And then, you must have broken land speed records to get to the forest and find so many of those flowers so quick."
"They were right near the dragon mound, it wasn't that far to collect them," he shrugs, looking away. I roll my eyes.
"Whatever. But you still would have been poisoned."
"So was Brand. And you,"
Yeah, about that... I shift awkwardly, looking down so as not to meet his gaze, but he immediately seems to recognise the behaviour. In my peripheral vision, I see him tilt his head back, resting against the post as he studies me.
"You didn't eat."
"I've got some supplies in the saddlebags," I explain. "I sometimes get sick from rural food. It's a fifty-fifty chance, but it's not one I'm willing to risk."
He's nodding slowly, but I sense a hint of disapproval from him. Like keeping my own food goes against everything that we agreed to do to help the people here. Like another failure. I look away, out over the moonlight-bathed clearing. Everything seems so peaceful, but I know that it's only temporary.
"What do you think's gonna happen when the rescue crew get here?" I ask. Hadvar is still studying me, and I refuse to look at him until he stops. He shrugs, though, relaxing once again.
"Reach is under Imperial control, so the Stormcloaks will likely be arrested," he says carefully. "If I can pull rank, I'll have them brought to Dragon Bridge, but if not they'll likely go to Markarth. Locals will get supplies and, based on the reply Brand got, there'll be some work done to make the track more stable."
"And you'll run off to the Legion again?"
"Of course," he smiles slightly as I finally look at him. "Would you have me anywhere else?"
"Somewhere safe?" I suggest. His smile softens slightly, and he tilts his head.
"Better off to put me in Sovngarde if you want that,"
"Don't even suggest it," I tell him, chuckling softly. A comfortable silence falls between us as we both watch the auroras dancing overhead, faint tonight but still there. I could never grow tired of watching the night skies here, truth be told – I never saw any sort of aurora before I came to Skyrim, but here they're out almost every night, sometimes brighter than the moons and sometimes more muted, like tonight.
"You never did answer that question," he comments after a while. I glance back at him; he's also watching the auroras, a faint smile at the corner of his lips.
"Which one?"
"Does your partner make you happy?"
Oh. The question that kept me awake, that had me doubting myself, doubting everything. "I mean, we were," I admit hesitantly. "But lately... it seems we just fight a lot. I hate it, because I've tried making so many allowances for him, cultural differences and whatnot. But... It never feels like it's enough."
"Brighid, you do more than enough," Hadvar tells me, turning to look at me again. "You do more than almost anybody I've ever met. You're a thane in three holds because you go out of your way to help people. You see problems and you start looking for solutions, and people aren't always going to appreciate that but that doesn't mean you're not doing enough."
"I meant in the relationship," I tell him. He's shaking his head already, smiling.
"It carries over," he says. "Anybody who wants to be in a relationship with you is going to have to get used to that idea, that they're going to be sharing you with all the rest of Skyrim. That's just the type of person you are."
"Yeah, but I want to be able to meet him on the same level," I tell him. Realisation dawns on me, and I groan softly. It's my fault. Gods be damned, the fighting and everything is my fault.
"You look like you just realised something," Hadvar comments, and I nod, eyes closed as I pinch the bridge of my nose.
"He's been getting possessive and controlling lately, and I thought it was just some dumb elf thing, but maybe it's just a natural reaction to feeling like he's losing me."
"Yeah, I suppose if you haven't really had the talk about your loyalty to Skyrim, he might be feeling that way," Hadvar nods slowly. He gestures towards the path. "Want to walk? I've been checking on their progress, they seem to be working late into the night."
"Sure," I let him lead the way as I fall into step beside him, mind churning with this new revelation. The red flags in Ondolemar's behaviour are just reflections of my own, I guess – I've been distant, avoidant, and he's upset and reacting in the most instinctively natural way possible, by locking down on what he wants.
"I'll admit, I've heard a bit about your adventures," Hadvar says gently. He gives me a significant look, half-smiling as we reach the precipice. "I think your boyfriend thinks he's dating Dovahkiin Briinah, rather than the girl who stumbled into greatness."
"I have worked for most of my titles," I remind him. He chuckles.
"I'm aware, I hear the stories. Though, I take them with a grain of salt."
"The stories?" I ask, staring at him. He shrugs.
"The Eldergleam and Gildergreen, Apparently you took down an entire coven of vampires completely alone; there's also a woman in Riften singing your praises for saving her from necromancers. You all but singlehandedly defeated Potema – do I need to go on?"
"Nah, you've made it pretty clear," I smirk, shaking my head. I know I should be grateful for the praises, but it just makes me feel... weird. Like there's two versions of me running around. "There's the legend, the one with all the deeds; a beautiful demigod with no faults or failings. And I feel like that's the version of me that people seem to fall in love with. Not the real me."
"And because of that disconnect, you feel like nobody can really reach you?"
"Not unless I let them in," I sigh, my thoughts returning to Ondolemar. I groan softly. "Like with Ondolemar. I've been pushing him away."
"That doesn't sound like you," Hadvar notes, but I shake my head.
"No, I have. Barely been giving him a chance to speak when I decide it's my turn to talk, fighting him at every turn, and when the going gets tough, running off to fight Forsworn or a dragon." I tell him, sighing deeply. The realisation carries with it a lot of guilt, which feels heavy on me now that I'm recognising it. "I... we had a fight. A lot of fights," I correct myself. "It's the reason I needed to get out of Markarth. But I'm realising now that it's me reacting to things; that's what's caused the tension in the relationship."
I flop down on the ground, back against the rock as I recall the argument on my first night back – I really have been shutting him out. I swear softly as I lean against the cliff wall, covering my face with my hands and making a noise of disgust. "I'm gonna have to go and apologise to him and then talk it out. I hope he at least forgives me."
"If he doesn't, he's a fool," Hadvar says. "Everybody makes mistakes. And you've got a lot more things to deal with than just the normal, everyday crap. If he isn't willing to forgive you for it, I say leave him in the dust."
I let my hands fall back as I stare up at the stars above us. Pinpoints of Aetherius, according to the legends. "I've been such a bitch about it all, like I even went off at him about the whole home invasion thing,"
Hadvar has imitated me, settling into a spot on the precipice, but he sits up a little straighter, frowning. "Home invasion?"
"Yeah, I... while I was at dinner with him, some Altmer came into my house, trashed everything, tried to kill my housecarl," I look over at him, recognising his expression of alarm. "It's fine, that was one of the near-death heals I did. We fixed the place up, it's now protected by a couple runes. I thought people in his staff were involved in it, went completely off at him about it."
"Brighid, you can't just tell me someone attacked your home and think I'll act like it's all fine."
"It happened two days before I got here," I tell him. "Argis and Rajha are safe now, the house is safe. If those altmer were really after me, they'd be out here now so my friends in Markarth are safe."
"Tell me everything that happened," he says, visibly insistent. I sigh heavily, and launch into a quick gloss-over of everything that happened in Markarth while I was there. His lips press into a thin line, showing his disapproval for the situation, but he shakes his head once I tell him about leaving.
"I've been such a bitch," I sigh, shaking my head. Even as I was retelling it, I could hear the points where I was the antagonist, where I was being problematic. Hadvar doesn't try to reassure me or anything, which in my mind only confirms it.
"If you feel that way, then I suppose talking to him will help," Hadvar suggests. "Brighid, just... remember your worth. It sounds like it's an open field in enemy territory. It could be that you're the one causing the trouble, or it could be that he's convincing you of that. You're insanely clever, so don't let someone use your feelings to hoodwink you."
I lower my gaze as he says it, remembering Igmund's comment in the Creek Room. Love can blind us. Am I really just blinded to the truth? I don't know.
It feels like I've now got more questions than when I stepped outside.
Hadvar glances over the edge, doing a double-take and frowning slightly as he leans closer, as we both hear a soft rumble. Curious, I look over as well.
It looks like, based on the firelight, the rescue group are working through the night – they're higher up the mountainside than I expected, and as I watch I can see magic being used to clear the path or force the earth to grow across the gaps.
"At that rate, they'll be here by dawn," Hadvar says. He looks over at me. "What do you plan to do when they get here?"
"What do you mean?"
"You mentioned you were going to Solitude, but you've got things to discuss with your partner now," He looks over the edge. "Depending how late they bridge the final gap, you'd have time to do either."
I consider it for a few moments, looking down to see as the ethereal lights of magic dance around, illuminating the space as the ground itself shifts to rebuild the ledges that formed the track. I really need to get an earthmoving spell or two.
"Probably go to Solitude," I admit. "Our last fight was... pretty intense. I've had time to cool off from it, I guess, but I want to let him have space, in case he's still processing it."
"Well, if you love him, don't leave it too late," Hadvar tells me. "Take it from personal experience, sometimes these things are better said sooner rather than later."