Mortal (Book 3)

Chapter 7

With a final shove, Sulla's body falls into an empty ditch. I turn and begin to walk away until Umana doesn't follow, staring blankly at the hole. Suddenly she falls to her knees and sobs, her pain echoing through the huge, glowing cavern that is Blackreach.
All of the soil and rock is black as night, but the mushrooms that grow taller than the pines above ground illuminate the cavern with green light. As beautiful as it is, it's full to the brim with chaurus, Falmer, and various dwemer traps. Umana tells me that Sulla and his father before him had both spent their entire lives and the majority of their family's funds searching for it, and in sick irony, had both lost their sanity in the process.
I sit down on a nearby rock while she sobs for an hour. She's laying in the black soil, as if her emotional pain has prevented her from even sitting up; I know the pain well. She loved him, that much is clear. Whether he truly loved her is uncertain. Before I know it, tears of a quieter intention are flowing like rivers down my face. It's hard to forget everything I've lost, especially when I'm watching someone else fall apart in front of me.
When she finally lays still, I stand up and grab her arm, using the majority of my strength to pull her to her feet.
"You should've killed me. Why didn't you kill me?" She whispers, her voice almost gone completely.
"Don't be so melodramatic; he's just a man, after all. You'll do better." I'll admit, I don't really know the answer. "I guess there was something I liked about you. Which way do we go?" I ask, looking back toward the rock path going through the cavern.
"I guess you'd be looking for the Tower of Mzark. Wherever it is, it'd be hard to miss." She gasps, coughing a bit to revive her voice.

~

For the first time in days, light breaks against my eyes. The Elder Scroll was exactly where Umana thought it'd be, in a tower so tall it extended for miles, all the way back up to the surface. Another one of the lifting rooms takes us all the way back up, which takes several hours. When we reach the top we step out onto a snow covered mountain, the bright midday sun shining on our dirty faces. Gods only know where exactly we are. There's an abandoned camp nearby, so we elect to stay there for the night.
After we cook the last of the food supplies that we both had, we sit back and watch the fire in silence. I look out over the mountain range, and notice a slender figure gliding through the dark sky. A dragon, no doubt Alduin. He doesn't roar and flap his wings loudly, he just watches; restraint is a hard thing for dragons to understand. I haven't feared the dragons in a long time, more recently I haven't feared Alduin. The Blades have helped me hunt down and kill dozens of them, and I've killed and devoured plenty on my own. Alduin still haunted my nightmares, until I noticed him following me in the past few weeks as I become closer and closer to facing him. Paarthurnax has an uncertainty about himself now, as if his older brother being truly afraid was never a possibility he considered, and it changes everything he's ever known. Since I told him Alduin was following me, even he seems to fear me. The dragons are weak because their leaders are weak.
However, when Umana sees what I'm staring at, her eyes fill with a dreadful terror and she reaches desperately for her axe.
"He won't attack, he wouldn't dare." I tell her, laying my head back on the crate I'm leaned against. "He's been following me for weeks."
"Is that—"
"The one that destroyed Helgen? Yes." I tell her.
"I suppose I won't be sleeping well tonight." She says.
"I wouldn't worry. If he was going to try and kill us he would've done it already." I tell her.
"How many of those things have you killed?" She asks.
"Lost count a long time ago." I explain, staring up at the sky. She sighs and sets down her weapon, crossing her arms apprehensively.
"I suppose you would've been preparing for this for a long time, Dragonborn."
"No. A few months, maybe." I mumble as I stalk away to our tent. It's so strange now to think about a life that could've been so different and so small. Perhaps even simple.

~

When I woke the next morning, Umana was gone. She left a note, saying only that she hoped she'd see me again. It's just as well; I knew our arrangement was mostly for survival reasons and wouldn't last. After I get my bearings, I make my way to where I entered the dwarven ruin in the first place and find Fjori, her reins tangled around a tree branch. She seems a little upset with me for leaving her for so long, but a few apples suffice for an apology.
When I find the road, I discover that we're less than a day away from Windhelm. The next place I'll be going is High Hrothgar, so I decide to make a stop there.
Once again, Windhelm is encased in a raging blizzard. The stable boy can't be bothered to come outside for even a moment, so I leave Fjori in a stable with a coin purse in a bucket beside her. Once I'm inside, the city's high stone walls deflect most of the wind, but the cold still chills me to my core. Sometimes it's strange to see the empty streets accompanied by signs of life, such as empty shop keeper stands or a still burning blacksmith's kiln. It's as if the city has been suddenly eradicated by the storm, a hellish sort of daydream.
It's very late, and most of the torches in the palace have been extinguished. Though there's no change to the Palace now that Sofie has gone away, it feels as if it's lost a bit of its life and has returned to its former stoic beauty, as if sleeping in the middle of a raging storm.
The only guard on duty in the throne room sits asleep in a chair. Lazy. Since the war ended, I feel as though all the troops have come to believe they can relax now without worry about our freed kingdom, and let themselves get old and fat. I nudge her shin with my toe, and she sits up very straight.
"Stormblade, I'm so-" she begins.
"You're in the Palace of the Kings, soldier. Ulfric Stormcloak himself sleeps within these walls, and I don't need to tell you how many people in Tamriel want him dead. Your job is to make sure no one gets through that door unaccounted for. Don't let it happen again." I tell her gruffly.
When I reach Ulfric's room at last, he's not asleep as I had expected. He sits in a chair by his table, hunched as he turns something small and pale over in his hands.
"Sofie left her doll." He says softly without looking up. It's been weeks since I last saw him, so I fall over onto him, hugging his shoulders and kissing his face and neck.
"She misses you too, you know. I miss you." He turns his head, kissing my cheek.
"How have you both been? Does she play with the other children?"
"Yes.. She's come to be friends with another little girl. We're both quite fond of her, but she's.. Different. She needs our help, Ulfric." I explain to him as I sit back in the chair across from him, holding his hand across the table.
"What do you mean?"
"Danica said there's not really a name for it. She's not stupid, I know she's not. I can see it in her eyes, she knows so much but she just can't bring herself to understand." I tell him. "I know I just need to be patient with her. No one will love her if we don't, Ulfric." I tell him, tears gathering in my tired eyes. He nods, thinking this over.
"My mother and father didn't have children until they were both much older than the expected age.. My sister, she was born first, then myself and my brother a few years after. My father always said that they knew something was wrong as soon as she was born; she didn't cease her crying for days and wouldn't nurse. I think she was something like this girl you speak of. We didn't know how to help her, and we couldn't find anyone that did. She was kind though, so very kind. She died while I was studying with the Greybeards, only her fifteenth winter."
"Ulfric, I'm so sorry... I didn't really have any idea that you had any siblings at all.."
"Most people thought it was just my brother and I. She didn't leave the Palace often."
"What about your brother..? I had never heard of him." I ask cautiously. He laughs softly, rubbing my hand with his fingertips.
"I haven't seen my brother in years, I'm not really sure if anyone has. He's very distant, but that's a story for another time, my love. In any case, this second child you've taken in, I would be happy to love as my own, just as we do Sofie." He tells me gently. I lay my head down on the table near his hand; I'm so tired. It'll all be over soon, one way or another. He runs his hand gently through my hair, sighing softly.
"I don't mean to worry you dearest, but the Jarls have grown impatient. They worry that while Skyrim remains kingless, the Empire will gather their numbers and strike back. They demand the moot—"
"I'm going to face Alduin. Soon; I can feel it." I tell him. He stares at me in disbelief when I look up at him, his hand still in my hair. "Are you coming?" I ask. He rubs his beard and sighs.
"Of course I am. You promised me." He says, taking a heavy swig of his wine.
"But are you ready?" I ask; I don't mean to insult him, but I don't think he's picked up his axe since Solitude.
"I've been ready, my love. All you have to do is say the word." He explains.
"Alduin is afraid, Ulfric. He's been following me for weeks; not attacking, just following. He knows I'm ready and he knows I'm a threat. They're weak." Ulfric chuckles.
"Nova, you're the only person I know that could stare the end of the world in the face and say he's weak." He says softly.
"Are you sure you want to come? You may die." We may both die. He smiles, then gently draws me in for a kiss.
"If I die, I die with the woman I love." He says. I smile, but my stomach drops. Looking at his smiling face, there is only one thing I know for sure, and that is that I can't possibly bring him with me. I'd have too much to lose; Sofie and Lucia would have too much to lose. This may be my last night with him.
I draw him in for another kiss, this one more earnest. He gently pulls me toward him, into his lap, beard scratching my neck as he kisses it. My hands wander under his shirt, under his belt. He jumps back a bit, looking up at me.
"Are you sure?" He breathes. I nod, suddenly feeling shy. Without another word he grabs my legs and stands, carrying me to his bed. His shirt comes off first. As my hands run up his back, I feel scars upon scars. He smiles sadly, even when I try to pretend I don't notice.
"The Thalmor did their work well." He says quietly. I kiss his stomach once in reply.
"I have scars too," I tell him as I unbuckle his belt. "And I'll tell you all their stories. Later, anyway."

~

We lay sprawled across the sheets, breathing heavily as we writhe in sweat; he tucks my hair behind my ear and kisses me. I was always terrified of this experience after everything that's happened, but it's a different experience entirely than what I knew before. I know now that to be so close to someone else, to know them in a way you didn't before, is a beautiful experience. I was nervous, but Ulfric never did anything unless I encouraged him.
"Do you think you'll... I mean... I'd love to have a child with you Nova, but we may have to rush wedding planning a bit..." he jokes. My stomach drops again. I'd like to laugh, but I can't.
"Ulfric, there's a lot you don't know." I whisper, keeping my eyes closed so I don't have to look at him when I say it.
"I know. I want to know. Where is your family? Do they know why you're Dragonborn?" He stutters. I realize this has been on his mind for a long time; he was afraid to ask, afraid to push. I sigh and look away from him, looking for a way out. "I don't care where you're from or who your family is. I just want to know, Nova. I love you, noble blood or not."
"My mother is buried in a small cemetery near Rorikstead." I begin, still looking away from him. "Her name was Alma. She was a Breton from High Rock. She was a gifted cook but she chose to marry a miner. I was her only child. She passed on in my tenth spring." I list these facts of my life, which after keeping it all secret from everyone for so long, feels more like telling the story of someone else's life, relaying them from a book. "She was the kindest person I've ever met."
"I'm so sorry Nova. My mother passed during the Great War, when I was... Captive." He says shortly. "Does your father live..? I hoped we could ask his blessing, if he has not already heard."
"We don't need anything from him. Ever."

Over a year ago, Farkas told me a story of how he had been hired as a guard a few months before to guide a woman from Whiterun to Rorikstead to find her brother, and then take both of them from Rorikstead to her home in Ivarstead. The brother was a hopeless drunk and had burned down his own home. It sounded strangely similar to my father, but I didn't believe it could be him.
When I finally returned to Rorikstead, the village of my birth, there was nothing left but the ash covered skeleton of my home. Mralki, the innkeeper who had written to my long lost aunt, told me the same story Farkas did. Months later, I arrived in Ivarstead with Lydia to begin our journey up the 7000 steps to High Hrothgar. I intended on passing through the village quickly and quietly without saying a word. Deep down, the thought of my father still makes me want to scream and run. Carrying a sword on my back and having a trained housecarl following my every step made me feel no better. I didn't intend to look for him, but I didn't have to. I saw him, standing in the ruins of yet another torched house on the other side of the river. I looked up for only a moment, but he still found my gaze almost immediately. He stared me down, just like he used to. I ran straight away towards the bridge and away from the village, listening to him cackle wildly all the way.

"Nova..? Did you hear me..?" Ulfric asks gently.
"Sorry. I'm sorry. What?" I ask, blinking away the memories.
"I just asked if you were alright, you look pale." He whispers, rubbing my face.
"My father is dead to me. He lives, but he's dead to me. I don't even consider him my father anymore." I almost groan, holding back tears. I begin the long, arduous story of how my father's mind slowly fell away as he continued to drink, his years of beating me, then the night he sold me to the hooded men, and finally, why I believe I can't have my own children. Telling the story feels like retching, gagging on the words over and over.
Ulfric is holding me to his chest, almost too tightly. When I finish retelling the story, he remains completely silent.
"Ulfric..?" I ask gently, finally looking up to him.
"I'll kill him. I swear I'll do it." He growls, a darkness in his eyes that I'm not sure I've seen before. I don't know how to respond; my fear of my father outweighs my anger.
"I was in the brothel for two years. After the first year I tried to escape with Aela and Skjor. We were caught and Skjor and I decided it would be best if I was left behind." I explain.
"They left you?" He exclaims, finally looking at me.
"They had to, if they hadn't we all would've been caught. After another year the Legion discovered the brothel and it was burned, all the women executed. I escaped at the last second and snuck past the guards at the border of Skyrim... I met your caravan the next morning, and I suppose you know the rest." I tell him, closing my eyes again. We don't speak again for a while, unable to find the words.
"Nova, this doesn't change the way I feel about you, not one bit. I still want a life for us.. If you'll have me."
"Didn't you hear me? I'm barren; I must be. I was never with child, not even when I should've been. I could never be a queen, I could never give you a child." I explain, beginning to cry again.
"I don't care, Nova. You're the only one I want. I don't care." He says, tears rolling down his own rugged face.

Photo creds: http://chronolexia.deviantart.com/art/Blackreach-Skyrim-294507206