Victory or Sovngarde

Chapter Thirty

He huffed in triumph as the fire took, a proud smile on his face. He leaned down to blow on the small flames, and they soon caught the kindling. Then, he tossed some more branches onto the fire and sat down next to me. "Angry, huh?"

I nodded. "I spent the better part of my early adulthood wrestling with anger. I was angry at the Thalmor, at Ulfric Stormcloak, and even the gods themselves. I don't think there was much I wasn't angry at."

"What changed?"

"My near-execution at Helgen. Nothing like a death sentence to remind us of our own fleeting lives, our mortality. I was young, I had survived a Thalmor attack. Why would I die? But I was reminded of my frailties, my shortcomings, and I realized that day that I didn't want to die. I was scared. I thought that I was never going to see my parents again, because I had forsaken my gods and lived with nothing but hate for them.

"After what happened that day, and after I traveled to Sovngarde to defeat Alduin, I recommitted myself to my faith. I stopped resenting the gods and instead made peace with my parents' deaths. After seeing what Sovngarde was like, I couldn't ask them to come back to me. They wouldn't even if they could."

"Then why would you want to return? You'd completed your destiny. You could've stayed."

"Because my work on Nirn wasn't done. It's still not." My shoulders slumped, and I let my head fall. "I have one more thing left to do. I have to drive every last Thalmor out of Skyrim, once and for all."

Etienne said nothing, and as the silence lapsed, I came to realize just how much I had babbled on about my own problems. I laughed and shook my head. "I'm sorry. You must think I'm crazy."

He shook his head. "No, Ylva. I don't. I'm... I'm glad I get to talk to you again." Then, he looked at me, his brown eyes soft and full of emotion. "All those years ago, I thought we were saying goodbye for the last time. I'm so glad that wasn't true." He ducked away, but not before I noticed the pink rushing into his cheeks. "Sorry."

It was my turn to shake my head, and I laid a hand on his shoulder. "Don't apologize, and don't be embarrassed. You—"

"I've spent the last nine years imagining what I would say to you if I ever got to see you again, but... I can't even remember one single thing I had planned to say now. All I can think of, focus on, is that you're here in front of me, and I haven't yet said thank you for what you did."

"You don't—"

"But I do! You saved my life, Ylva, and that's a debt that I hope I came close to repaying back there." He leaned a little closer to me, the morning light catching on the long scar that roped from his neck to his chest, underneath his cuirass. "I was on the brink of Oblivion, and then you came along. In my delirium, I thought you were one of Shor's battle-maidens, sent straight from Sovngarde to rescue me. You... you were too beautiful to be a mortal."

Now my cheeks flushed pink, and I turned away to hide it. Why were his words flustering me more than any other person's words? I had been revered, had people bow down at my feet and beg for a blessing, had been stopped just to have someone offer me a kiss, a hug, or other gifts as payment for what I had done. Why was this any different to me?

"Ylva?"

I turned, despite the blush still on my face. "Yes?"

He offered me a quick smile. "I'm not trying to embarrass you. I... I've been told that I'm a dandy for my tendency to spout poetic words when I'm... flustered. I've had a lot of time to think about what I would do to thank you if I ever saw you, but I can't do it."

"And why is that?"

"Because I wanted to kiss you, but you're married, and I won't cross that line." Then, he paused and, once again, leaned closer. "But... may I at least kiss your cheek?"

I nodded, not finding the power within myself to turn down this simple request. He had asked, and that was more than I could say for many that had accosted me in my travels.

He leaned in ever closer, then pressed his lips to my right cheek, just beside my scar. Then, after just a second, he pulled away, smiling at me, that embarrassed flush still on his face. "Thank you."

"You don't have to keep thanking me, Etienne."

He nodded. "I know, but... after all this time, I can't think of anything else to say." He chuckled and shook his head, the blush finally fading from his face. "I guess those nine years didn't do me much good, huh?"

I grinned. "I wouldn't say that. They seem to have been kind to you." Then, I spun on my backside so that I could face him fully. "Tell me, have you found anyone? A girl you're sweet on?"

He just laughed and shook his head. "No. I've got three god-children to keep up with."

"Femke and Brynjolf's children?"

He nodded. "Yes. Their godmother, another trusted friend, and I are a good team, but she... she is still in love with a man who died many years ago. She is waiting to see him again when she dies. And that's okay. She is a nice person, but she is a friend to me. Nothing more." Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a single coin. He flipped it into the air, watching the gold catch the sunlight, before it landed back in his waiting palm. "I've got other things to concern myself with, anyway. Like getting as much gold as I can, from whoever I have to get it from. I know you don't approve, since you're a Companion, and you're honor-bound to do the right thing."

"Well, I can't say that I like what your organization does, but you have a code about killing, and I can respect that."

We talked for another hour or so, before Femke and Brynjolf returned with the catch: four rabbits. They carefully cleaned the kills, then put them on a spit for roasting. It seemed to take forever for them to cook, but I knew it was because I was so hungry for something warm.

When the meat was done, Femke divided up some of the day's rations, giving us each an apple, a slice of bread, and a waterskin to accompany our rabbit. My mouth watered at the sight of all the food.

Once we ate and drank our fill—having savored every last morsel of it—the three thieves broke camp while I watched. Etienne doused the fire and gathered the gear, Femke made sure the horses were fed and watered, and Brynjolf deconstructed the tent. Once everything was packed and loaded, Brynjof helped me onto the back of his horse, then the three of them mounted. Femke took the lead, and with a click of her tongue, we were off.

"I'm hoping we can make it past Karthwasten before nightfall," she said as she led the pack at a gentle pace. "That'll put us getting back to Whiterun in three days' time, if we can keep this pace." Then, she glanced back at me. "If you can manage that."

I nodded. "Do what you have to. Just get me home."

"We will, Ylva," said Etienne from the rear of the pack. "You're going home."

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Merry (late) Christmas, you guys! Consider this my present to all of you! Sorry it's taken me so long to get this up and running, but today is the day! I feel motivated to write, so I'm going to write, no matter what. I'll try to post something for This is Our Home (and it's going to be good, if I stick with the idea I have), and possibly an update for Dark of the Night. Again, apologies for leaving so suddenly. It's... it's been a lot for me to handle lately. Thanks for all your support and love.

Please vote, comment, and leave feedback on this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it! Hopefully it won't take so long for the next chapter!
~Wolfie