Murphy's Law

Chapter 68

The room was dead silent for a breath, then exploded into chaos as a dozen voices tried to make themselves heard all at once.

"You're his brother?!"

"You're supposed to be dead!"

"Holy shit I almost shot you-"

"Mor kha'jay!"

Emmet could only gape, stunned speechless, as he stared at a man that was nearly the General's mirror image. The General himself had shoved himself out of his seat in an outrage and launched himself at the Knight, the rebel leader just barely managing to lean out of the path of the fist that came flying at his face. "You lied to me! Both of you! All this time?!"

"It wasn't a lie," Keelan spoke softly, even as the Knight caught his brother, pulling him too close to be able to fight properly.

"I was dead," the Knight explained. "The Divines decided they weren't done with me yet, and Kyne herself brought me back. Keeping my identity a secret until the time was right was one of their conditions."

"I swore I would kill you," Cary murmured brokenly. "And I never would have known until it was too late..."

"I wouldn't have let it come to that." The two glanced over at a clatter at the far end of the table, to see Keelan restraining Ondolemar. The noise had been from the Thalmor being forced to drop his sword.

"Once was enough," the youngest brother growled.

"Did Keelan not tell you?" the Knight asked at the confused look on the General's face. "It was Ondolemar and his little posse that attacked us. I believe it was shortly after that, that he got his promotion to Head Justiciar."

"Ooh. Even I didn't know that," Sirius said all too gleefully. The Knight held his brother back when the General snarled and made to lunge at the Thalmor.

"Not now," the Knight soothed. "It would be rude to fight in the home of our gracious hosts."

"Then let's take it outside," the General growled. Ondolemar was starting to look uncertain in the face of the man's fury.

"Please do," Arngeir agreed, barely containing his own anger. "Agreeing to host a peace council here was a mistake."

The General took a moment to rein in his temper and remember his manners. "But it served its purpose," he countered. "Masters Arngeir, Einarth, Borri, Wulfgar. You have my deepest gratitude. We'll trouble you no more. Jarl Balgruuf, you have my word that your hold will not come under Imperial attack."

As the others slowly filed out of the meeting room and left High Hrothgar altogether, Emmet approached Arngeir, giving him an apologetic look. "I am so sorry about that-"

"Dragonborn," the Greybeard interrupted wearily, "that was hardly your fault. You couldn't have known events would play out like that."

"You know, I think you're the only person who wasn't surprised about the Knight revealing himself."

Arngeir sighed softly, shaking his head. "We did train him in the way of the Voice, after all. It's hard to forget someone of his stature- or his sheer cheek." Emmet smiled at that, and Arngeir found himself smiling with the young man. "Ah, well. I suppose the General was right, it did serve its purpose, if not in the way we expected. Though I think I preferred that to the childish bickering I was almost certain would happen. It's good to see brothers reunited."

"It is!" Emmet agreed.

"You should go," Arngeir suggested. "You have your truce; there is no time to waste."

Emmet nodded. "You're right." He fidgeted for a moment. "I know nothing's gone the way you're used to since I showed up, but I wanted to thank you for everything you've done to help me."

"You can thank us by remembering what we have taught you."

He gave Arngeir a sheepish smile. "Of course." With a final farewell he trotted out after the others, hoping he wouldn't be greeted by bloodshed. The General had looked really mad.