Moonlight's Embrace (A Skyrim Fanfic) (ORIGINAL)

Traps and Treachery

WBE: 592
WAE: 1,023

((15th of Sun's Height, 4E 205, 10:57 p.m.))

Bryn and Karliah had fallen asleep in the air after only an hour or so of being in the air. I couldn't blame them. I understood that they'd been awake for days to protect me, and the rhythmic flapping of the dragon's wings could be soothing. All I felt was wind on my face and the ridges of Durnehviir's scales.

Otherwise, nothing. I wasn't even tired. Deep within me, I knew there should have been something. Relief, joy, fear, love... but I didn't. It wasn't easy to see in the dark of night, but I knew we had crossed the border into Skyrim about an hour before. Then we must be nearing the Throat of the World, I reasoned with myself. 

My guess was proven when Durnehviir let out a low growl. "Here we land, Qahnaarin." Durnehviir extended his hind claws, spreading his wings to soften the impact. The jolt as the dragon hit the ground startled Brynjolf and Karliah awake, and the latter gave a small grunt.

"Thank you." Durnehviir nodded and flew off with a mighty roar, form dissipating into black slime in mid-air before vanishing entirely. Odahviing watched the transformation curiously as he circled the mountain.

"You have returned," Paarthurnax thrummed as he perched atop the ruined Word Wall. "The Scroll— you have succeeded in retrieving it."

"Indeed."

"Odahviing!" The red dragon flew down at hearing Paarthurnax's call. "Unearth the Kel... the Elder Scrolls." The dovah obeyed, clutching the ancient Scrolls delicately in his teeth and setting them down in front of me. "Place Laas here, Dovahkiin."

I reached into my bag and pulled out the Elder Scroll. It seemed to grow heavier as I moved forwards to put it down. The second it hit the snowy ground, a brilliant flash illuminated the mountaintop. Paarthurnax inspected the three, his throat rumbling as he spoke several Words of Power. "It is done, Dovahkiin. Take them to the place where the Prince's power is greatest. They have been bound to you."

Karliah and I shared a glance. "Then we must go to the Twilight Sepulcher," she murmured, speaking for the first time since entering Skyrim. "We'll bring it to the Ebonmere. After that--"

"We'll save you," Brynjolf interrupted, grasping my hand tightly to his chest. "We— I— will never stop fighting for you." He was clearly earnest, and I only wished I could return his passion.

"Okay. Let's go." The Nord released my hand, his green eyes shimmering with sorrow. He appeared hurt by my concise response, though I had no guilt to stab at my heart. 

"Well... then..." Brynjolf cleared his throat, though didn't comment further. Instead, he merely beckoned the rest of us to follow him down. His head was dipped low, spirits broken.

I knew it was my own fault, but I did not regret a single thing I'd said. At this point, if he felt as though I owed him an apology or some piece of my heart, then he was sadly mistaken. I owed him nothing, nor would I be able to give him the latter.

After all, can you give something you don't have?

...

((17th of Sun's Height, 4E 205, 11:23 a.m.))

It took us a little more than a day and a half to reach the Sepulcher. Karliah was shuddering in fear, and her eyes were rimmed with black. Bryn held the same tired look. I was not affected by exhaustion, nor was I nervous. Just as the days before, I had nothing inside.

"You alright, lass?" Brynjolf inquired quietly, a hand on my shoulder. I continued to look ahead, not sparing him a glance.

"Why wouldn't I be?" My question was sincere. There was little reason in my mind for me to fear what might be ahead.

"I'd have thought that you'd be nervous. I mean, we're not exactly facing a mudcrab."

"What? Why would I be nervous?"

"Because I know you. What happened?" Brynjolf demanded. "Lass, you've lost your fire." He stopped me and placed a soft fingertip on my cheekbone. His green eyes were full of fear-- for me, no doubt. "Something's different."

"I'm just as I've always been, Brynjolf." I shook off his finger. "Leave me be. We have something to do." I left the saddened Nord behind and entered the Twilight Sepulcher. Karliah followed closely behind, constantly twitching. She was biting hard on her bottom lip, and I wondered if she knew that a thin trickle of blood came from the points of her canines.

"I don't like this," she told me lowly. "I swore on my soul to protect all Nocturnal stood for."

"But Nocturnal has changed," I objected. "You vowed to defend something that she's long since abandoned."

"It still feels wrong." I squared my shoulders and lifted an eyebrow.

"I don't control you. You're welcome to leave." Karliah paused, as though considering it.

"No," she said finally. "Your safety means more to me than the Shadow Mistress." She appeared to be forcing it out, though she did not deceive. The words she spoke were true-- or she at the very least believed them.

"Your help is greatly appreciated, then." I spoke monotonously, causing her to give me a wary look.

We avoided traps designed to kill intruders, our thoughts on just one goal. Unopposed, we made it to the inner chamber where the Ebonmere gleamed and swirled. "Set down the Scrolls on the Agent's Circles to activate the portal," I commanded, placing the Scroll of Night on the first Agent's Circle. Karliah followed suit with the Scroll of Dreams. The moment Brynjolf laid down the Memory Scroll, black fog from the Ebonmere shot in every direction. Our vision was instantly obscured. The sound of crows echoed all around us.

Murk poured from the portal, slowly building itself up into a towering shape. The Elder Scrolls began to spin on their platforms, creating white chains that latched themselves to the Daedric Prince as soon as she formed. Nocturnal screeched, yanking at the restraints furiously. Her blazing eyes met mine in a silent battle of unrivaled hatred.