Survivor (A Skyrim Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Twenty Five

Bursting sunlight erupted into my dark bedroom as Ulfric tugged open the curtains, bringing my drifting mind back to reality. "Aemilia, please get out of bed," he sighed as he sat down beside me. "It's already midday and we've got duties to attend to."

"No, you've got duties to attend to. You're the one who's High-King, not me."

I rolled onto my other side, pulling the covers over my head and planting my face into the pillow. I don't want to get up ever again. Maybe if I just lay here no one will bother me and I can just die. Oh wait, no... Someone is bothering me.

"You are my Queen and with that title comes a great amount of responsibility. I thought you knew that when I asked you to marry me."

His voice wasn't harsh or stern, or even disapproving like I had half-expected it to be. Instead it was weary and had a touch of sadness. I had been so wrapped up in my own abyss of misery and self-pity that I had left Ulfric to suffer all on his own. I had left him alone to bear the pain of sending his only son away, preparing for a war and running a kingdom, all the while having to pretend everything is fine.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled reluctantly from under the duvet. "I... I just don't know what to do."

Tears were beginning to well in my eyes for what seemed to be the thousandth time in the last couple of days. For the past nineteen years, I hadn't cried once. Not a single tear. Now it appeared that the build-up was all coming at once and I genuinely couldn't stop.

"Oh sweet Mara, I know it's hard to accept that this is how it has to be, but it does no one any good staying here all of the time and sobbing. I hate to be so upfront with you Em, but you need to get up and get on with life. What a magnificent tale it'll be that the Dragonborn met her demise in bed crying herself to the grave."

I pushed myself up and stared at him blankly through bloodshot eyes. "That doesn't make me feel any better, you know."

"I don't expect it to, yet you still need to get up nonetheless. We have a strategy meeting with Ralof and Galmar, a two hour court session, and then I believe you have a training shift until sunset."

Just hearing the things I have to do today has already drained the little amount of energy I had. There's no wonder I've had to take up training recruits again, I thought, now I'm no longer pregnant and there's bound to be a war soon.

I nodded weakly and swung my legs to the side of the bed. I felt hollow knowing Hagen wasn't near me, that I couldn't just walk down the hallway and see him peacefully sleeping.

"I'm weak," I muttered bitterly, clutching the bed sheets frustratedly. "Crying is the ultimate sign of weakness."

Ulfric stood up and walked around to sit beside me, his heavy boots thrumming against the tiled floor. His hand cupped my cheek and he gently turned my head so I was facing him.

"Look at me."

Those green eyes bore into mine, a deep jade laced with emotion. Gods, his eyes are always so captivating.

"Crying does not make us weak. It makes us human."

I managed a small smile at his comforting words and leaned my head further into his hand. He had a point, but it's still hard to abandon an outlook I've had on the matter my whole life.

"Does it still hurt?" he said, indicating to the cuts on my chest and face.

I absently touched the bandage tied around my head, tracing over where I could feel the crescent shape. There was no doubt that it would scar.