Mortal (Book 3)

Chapter 25

"I'll be as gentle as I can, but I can't say this won't hurt." I explain. She only nods slightly. Something seems to be wrong with her voice as well. As she sits on the stool in front of me, I tear open the first of the bandages around her head; she whimpers in pain as I rip away the melted skin that's attached itself to the bandages. When they're finally all removed, her tattered skin is all that's left behind. The burns are large and bubble across a good portion of her face and scalp, it's a miracle that her right eye was spared, I can't say the left one was so lucky. It'll likely have to be removed. While she has almost no hair to speak of, I'm somewhat optimistic that at least some of it will grow back. I suspect that a particularly terrible burn on her throat might be the cause of the damage to her voice.  I know there's more beneath her clothes, but I haven't been brave enough to venture there yet. "You should've changed these." I mumble uselessly. There's nothing that can be done now, even if she had changed the bandages. She stays silent.
"Was it a dragon?" I ask her. I was unsure of the Blade's plans for the future, and I had assumed they would return to dragon hunting.
"No." Aela croaks.
"Where are Esbern and—"
"Esbern is dead." She groans.
"... And Delphine?" I ask.
"I don't know." She winces as her voice cracks. Finally I kneel in front of her.
"I know it hurts. Can you tell me what happened?" I ask her. She sighs, and slowly begins to speak.
"The Thalmor knew about Sky Haven. They always knew, I think they just didn't have time to bother with us. They came in the night, tied us to our beds while we were still sleeping and set them on fire, then left us to die," She says. "I rolled in the bed until the fire was out. I tried to get to Esbern but I collapsed... I think he was already gone. When I woke up he was the only one. Either they took Delphine prisoner or she betrayed us." She explains.
"Maybe she just wasn't there. They might've seen you laying there and thought you were her." I suggest.
"A betrayal all the same. I don't care to know." She says. I sigh, standing up again. "Before they set us on fire, they told us our crimes, but they didn't say it was because we were Blades. They said it was for treason and association with the Dragonborn. I came to warn you." She says.
"I don't understand. Is every citizen of Skyrim not guilty of—"
"Yes, Nova. They are." She says as the realization hits me. The Thalmor not only plan to wage war, but kill every last one of my people. What better way to teach the other provinces a lesson? My stomach hitches again, as if my baby senses my anxiety. I need to discuss this with Ulfric, immediately.
"I'll send for some healers for you. The best in Solitude, I promise. They'll help you as best they can." I tell her as I begin to leave the room.
"You're pregnant." She says just as I reach for the door handle; it isn't a question. I turn back to her, unsure of what to say. Do I deny it or admit it? She used to be my best friend. "It's alright. I just know." She says.

~

I wait outside the door as Priest Rorlund and Priestess Frier carefully work with Aela; upon close inspection her wounds were much worse than my original assessment. Some of her burns have bursted and the open wounds are now infected, and will have to be treated before she can be exposed to healing magic or the infection will continue to spread underneath the skin. Ulfric is speaking with some of the Solitude guard patrols about a recent thieving problem, so I'll have to speak with him later.
"How is she?" Vilkas asks quietly behind me. I look at him and sigh, then look back to Aela.
"Not good. She'll be healing from this for a long time, and there's no quick and easy solution."
"What happened? Where has she been all this time?" He asks. It occurs to me that Vilkas didn't know anything about the Blades, and to him she simply left Whiterun.
"The Thalmor happened. They tied her down and tried to burn her to death for associating with me. As far as where she's been, I don't think it really matters anymore." I mumble. "Why are you still here?" I ask flatly. He's silent for a moment.
"I was told you needed a housecarl." He says.
"Yes, but not you." I tell him. I don't care if it hurts him, but he needs to leave. He bristles a bit, but doesn't seem angry.
"Then don't choose me." He says simply.
"Whoever wins the tournament becomes my housecarl, not whoever I choose. There's no honor in picking favorites. However, you have a duty to the Companions. You can't be here and in Whiterun. For that reason, I disqualify you." I explain.
"I've already proven to Galmar I can uphold my duties in both cities. I'll correspond with Farkas through letters, and eventually he'll take over my duties entirely." He counters.
"Galmar? What does Galmar know about the Companions? I already told you you're disqualified. I'll have you escorted out of the city if I must." I say, turning on him sharply. In comparison to other recent arguments we've had, he seems calm. He seems undeterred from his position, but not quite enraged. It infuriates me even more.
When I look back to Aela her eye is trained on me, her emotions undetectable beneath her burns. They've begun to undress her, pulling the cloak away. Her left arm is covered completely in bandages, and as they begin to unravel it the skin is black and charred. I can hardly keep myself from shuddering in horror. I shut the door, pretending to give her privacy but knowing I can't bear to look at her any longer. When I turn back, Vilkas is gone.
As I begin to walk back to my bedroom, Carth finds me once again.
"There's a... little man here to speak with you and Ulfric. I've already sent someone to get Ulfric, he'll meet you in your quarters." She says. I sigh; I had hoped to get a moment to myself and take a bath, perhaps shed the weight of all the things I've already had to deal with since we arrived. I suppose not.
"Alright, I guess I'll go talk to him then. Tell Priestess Freir I'll need to speak with her privately in my quarters before she leaves." I tell her.
Just as I suspected, Motierre awaits, sitting in my desk chair as if he owns it.
"Motierre," I sigh. "I can't say I'm glad you're back, but I do have a question for you."
"Oh, I never left, your majesty." He says happily. I roll my eyes. "How can I help?"
"Have your spies ever encountered a Breton woman named Delphine? Blonde, mid-fifties?" I ask. His mouth drops open, and I know I've hit a nerve.
"Delphine?" Rexus asks from the corner, and I jump. I didn't even know he was in here. "She's not back, is she?" I forget that Rexus has followed nearly every step I took since I was eight years old.
"I certainly hope not. Why?" Rexus rolls his eyes.
"That demon of a woman made my job hell. I lost you for weeks because of her. Who was she?" I sigh heavily.
"So the two of you know less about her than I, then." They won't have much helpful information. "She's the Grandmaster of the Blades." I explain.
"The Blades? Were they not wiped out?" Amaund asks.
"No, not quite. I have reason to believe she's dead now, but knowing her I wouldn't be shocked if she somehow survived."
"Well if she's a Blade, perhaps she'd be loyal to the Septims—"
"Not anymore." Not after I wouldn't kill Paarthurnax. "If you do decide to look for her, don't approach her. She's paranoid and dangerous." I tell Rexus.
"We'll be sure to keep that in mind." Amaund says with a saccharine smile. "Your majesty, of course you remember we still have plans to discuss." He says.
"I told you, I'll never agree to that. I've already had my family wiped out by assassins. If I were to do that to the Mede's I'd be just as evil as them." I argue as Ulfric enters the room. He gently escorts me to another chair, his eyes flicking to my stomach. He's right; I should be taking it easy, not stressing myself out even more.
"I understand your perspective, your majesty, but it's not just the Emperor who must die. Your father, for example, represents a certain... liability." He explains. I don't say anything, I only stare at him with death in my eyes. He crosses his arms defensively, then continues. "Your majesty, your father is not dragonborn, and he is not a Septim. Your mother was, but due to our spy's neglect, she's dead. In my eyes, he outlived his usefulness the day you were born. Obviously after everything he's done you have no loving feelings left for him."
"And for that, he should die?" I say. I can't believe I'm defending him, but what does killing my father have to do with assassinating the Emperor and conquering Tamriel?
"I've made contact with a certain organization that I believe would be willing and capable of assassinating the Emperor. However, I don't yet have full confidence in them and I'm sure you don't either, so I thought to test them we could place a contract on your father. You could get your revenge, I wouldn't have to worry about people discovering that he's your father. Three birds with one stone." He says. I shake my head.
"If I'm going to murder my father in cold blood, it has to be for a reason, and I'm going to do it myself." I explain.
"I don't think it's that bad of an idea." Ulfric says. I turn on him, but he puts his hands up. "You have plenty of reason, but I'm not sure you can or should do it yourself, love." He says gently, reaching for my hand. I remember returning from Sovngarde and climbing back down the mountain to Ivarstead, watching the hollow shell that was my father stare blankly into the river. I aimed my bow directly at his head; there's no way I could've missed the shot and no one ever would've known it was me. Still, I couldn't bring myself to release the arrow. I now know for a fact that even with a perfect opportunity, I couldn't be the one to kill him.
"Find an assassin from this organization of yours. Tell them I'll be coming with them." I explain.
"Coming with them??" Motierre exclaims.
"Nova, no. Maybe in a few months, but—" Ulfric sighs.
"Actually, this is quite time sensitive. Specific plans must be made, we can't just come in through the front door and ask to see the Emperor." Motierre argues.
"As long as the three of us are the only ones that know, I'll be fine. I can leave and be back by morning the next day."
"By yourself? With an assassin?" Ulfric exclaims.
"You think I couldn't handle it?" I ask.
"Of course I do, but I'm not willing to risk it. Not after what happened to Elisif." He says.
"Elisif was travelling with a massive party of guards and had no idea how to protect herself. I can do it." I defend.
"Nova. You heard her, you should be resting, traveling as little as possible." He protests, apparently no longer trying to hide anything from Motierre.
"Wait. A few months? Are you—" Motierre starts.
"Just this once. It's time to end this, and I won't let someone else take care of him for me." I tell him. Ulfric is silent for a moment, considering it. "Can you contact these assassins?" I ask.
"I could. Are you sure about this?" Motierre asks.
"Yes. I'll determine if this assassin is worthy of killing an emperor." I tell him. His face lights up.
"So you'll go through with it then?" He says.
"Only if this assassin can prove themselves to me. Otherwise, I'll only settle for killing the Emperor myself." I tell him.