I wake up a few hours later, and I decide to sneak out and get something to eat, pulling on one of Ulfric's huge furry robes. Even with the belt tied as tight as it'll go it's too loose, hanging a little too far down my chest. I used to worry about the castle guards seeing my presence in the castle as inappropriate, but at this point they've seen me coming out of Ulfric's room several times. Let them think what they want, I'm not asking for their respect anymore; I'm demanding it.
I pull the leather string from my mess of matted hair, letting it fall over my shoulders. I pass by a mirror on my way down the steps and surprisingly, I almost look elegant. Maybe if you couldn't see my bare legs under the robe, maybe if I cared enough to run a comb through my hair or paint my face like the ladies of the court, maybe if I wore the jagged crown, I would look something like a High Queen. Even then, I'm too short and too baby-faced. I stalk away from the mirror, down the dark steps into the war room.
Galmar, as usual, sits in the dark by the door, nursing a mug of mead. Sometimes I wonder if he ever sleeps.
"Long night?" I ask him, sitting down at the table.
"I could ask you the same." He mumbles without missing a beat.
There's no smile in this, no drunken slur that has always seemed a part of his voice. I look at him, dead eyes trained on the door that leads up into Ulfric's room. I've only just woken up, but I've already pissed him off.
"What do you mean?" I sigh, leaning back in my chair and preparing myself for one of his rants. He looks up, as if admiring the stonework in the ceiling.
"Big, empty castle like this, completely made of stone. Things echo. I hear them." He says, taking another swig from his mug. I cringe, remembering last night. At the time I didn't care who could hear what we were doing, but thinking about the things Galmar could've heard makes me want to run and hide.
"Well... Hopefully whatever you heard won't be too hard to forget, then." I tell him. He grunts and shakes his head.
"You should've at least waited." He grumbles.
"For what, Galmar? Any day now could be my last."
"To be married, that's what. Gods, Nova."
"And how do we know that'll even happen? Alduin must be defeated first." I tell him, crossing my arms. He rubs his face, sighing loudly. When he looks back at me, he laughs and shakes his head.
"Nova, you misunderstand. I just... Don't want something to happen to you, and for you to be another of his mistakes." He admits. I raise an eyebrow.
"Mistakes?" I repeat, leaning toward him over the table. He leans away, puts his hands up in defense.
"Calm down, let me explain. I suppose you wouldn't actually know... In our younger days, Ulfric and I enlisted in the legion to fight in the Great War. We were in the same regiment, and that's how he met Rikke."
"Rikke? You mean that woman that was with Tullius." I begin.
"The one you killed, yes.." Galmar finishes. "They were about the same age, which was rare. Ulfric was only 15, he had to lie about his age to enlist. Rikke was about 17 herself, I believe. Since they were the only whelps there, I guess that's why they so quickly grew attached..."
"So Rikke and Ulfric..."
"Yes, whatever you're about to ask, the answer is yes. I'm the only other person who's ever known, but... They even planned on getting married when the war ended. When it started to seem like the war would never end, they started talking about sneaking out of the camp and running off to one of the temples to have a priest marry them there." Galmar says sadly. I feel my cheeks flush with jealousy, and I shove it down. After everything I told Ulfric last night, what right do I have to be jealous? He's a decent bit older than me; how likely would it be that he's never had another lover in his life?
"How foolish of them. They were children." I grumble despite myself.
"That's just it though; children. Children that threw themselves into a war they didn't understand and had to grow up all too quickly, but still children nevertheless." Galmar sighs with regret as he takes another swig of his drink.
"And how old were you?"
"17, the same as Rikke. What's it matter?" He asks, not seeing my point. I shake my head.
"So what was stopping them then? From running off and getting married." I ask.
"The Bear."
"What?"
"The Bear of Eastmarch; Jarl Hoag Stormcloak, Ulfric's father. Ulfric had written to him to ask his consent for the marriage, and his father sternly told him no of course. What Jarl's son marries in Cyrodiil? He wanted them to marry here, in Windhelm. They planned one night to go anyway, but..." Galmar shakes his drooping head, then lays it back in his chair. He rubs his beard, then his fingertips wander to the rarely seen horizontal scar across his throat. I almost see tears in his eyes.
"But what, Galmar..?"
"But that was the night Ulfric was taken." He sighs. "The bastards. They just snuck in like dirty skeever from the sewer and just..." Galmar's voice cracks, and to my shock, I see tears pour over his drooping eyelids and into the canyons and cracks of his face. "He was only a boy. Not even twenty seasons. He didn't even... He didn't even know anything, Nova. He only knew as much as any auxiliary knew. I knew more of our plans than he did. They should've taken me!" Galmar says, slamming a fist into the table, nearly breaking it. I've never seen him like this before; I wonder if anyone has. In desperation, I stand and hug him tightly. To my surprise, it works. His rage turns into quiet whimpers as he sniffles into my hair.
"They just wanted him because he was the Jarl's son. To teach the rest of 'em a lesson."
"It wasn't your fault, Galmar," I tell him. "You were just a boy, too." I remind him.
"I was supposed to protect him... I swore to Hoag I would protect him..." He mumbles.
"There was nothing you could've done. They almost killed you, Galmar." I comfort him. After a while he calms down, his face still red and puffy.
"After the Battle of Red Ring, the Thalmor let him go. They didn't deliver him back safely or issue an apology to Hoag, they just... Let him walk out of the prison camp. He wandered around, starving and defenseless for Gods know how long. He walked into a village somewhere in his ragged clothes with even more injuries than he left the prison camp with. The village wrote the Jarl and the Legion. And even after all he'd been through, the Legion would only send one soldier to go retrieve him and bring him home safely, since he was no longer fit for duty."
"You..?" I ask softly. Galmar nods slowly.
"We all thought he was dead. Rikke, his father, the whole regiment; even me. I barely recognized him. He didn't even ask for Rikke. He didn't ask for anyone, or say a word to me. He didn't speak for weeks after we finally returned to Windhelm. I think he was... ashamed. Rikke wrote to me, over and over, asking about him. When she was finally released from command I told him she wanted to see him, and... He finally wrote her back himself."
"What did he say?" I ask.
"He told her to stay in Cyrodiil with the rest of the Imperials, and far away from him." Galmar sighs. "That's when I knew it was over. They never spoke again, not until the Battle for Solitude. The day she died." he says. The day I killed her.
I remember Rikke vaguely through the swirling memories of that day. The picture of a strong Nord woman, ruggedly beautiful with broad cheekbones and battle scars. She saw me briefly as I was arrested by the Legion, and knew exactly who I was. Oblivion hath no fury like a woman scorned. I wonder what she thought, looking at this younger woman that had stepped in and taken her place as Ulfric's lover. I wonder if she, like so many other people, thought I did everything I did for the Stormcloaks to impress him and get closer to him. Maybe she pitied me and thought that, just like her, Ulfric would eventually abandon me too. Maybe she didn't care; maybe she knew if she was responsible for my death, Ulfric would never forgive her.
"Galmar, you're supposed to protect Ulfric. I'm supposed to love him. I need your help in order to do both." I tell him. "I promised him he would come with me to face Alduin. I respect him as a warrior, but I can't trust myself to protect him. I can't protect him. I must ask you a favor." Galmar takes a last swig of his drink, finishing it off.
"And that is?"
"In the next coming days, I or Alduin, or even both, will be dead. When I go to face him, you must keep Ulfric here."
~
As we're eating dinner that night, a guard announces that we have guests. Lydia steps through the great doors of the Palace, each of my daughters under her arms. Sofie dashes out of her arms, jumping into Ulfric's lap. While the two of them are laughing with delight, Lucia quickly walks to me and clings to my legs, glaring at Ulfric. I gently stroke her hair, unsure of how to explain in a way she'll understand. Sofie pulls Ulfric toward Lucia and I, her tiny hand wrapped around his large thumb.
"Lucia, this is Papa." She says simply, grinning brightly. Ulfric's eyes go wide at the word "papa." While Sofie smiles at Lucia expectantly, she only frowns and shakes her head. I brace myself for Sofie to get frustrated, but she doesn't break her smile. "Don't worry, you'll understand. She'll understand Papa." She assures everyone. I feel a swell of pride in my chest for both of my daughters. I'm mostly proud of the trust they've built in each other in such a short amount of time.
I kneel, pulling both of them in front of me and holding each of their hands in my own.
"Listen now, both of you. These people around you— Ulfric, Galmar, Jorlief, —they're just as much your family as I am. They will take care of you, and they only want what's best for you, as I do. Lydia and I are going away for a while. You'll stay here with—" Lucia shouts, cutting me off. She hugs my neck tightly, shaking her head furiously.
"But I don't want you to. I just got here." She says. I glance up at Lydia, who looks just as surprised as I am. Last I saw her, she still needed quite a bit more space than this.
"They'll take care of you, and Sofie can help you when you don't understand. I promise." I pull Sofie into the hug as well, stroking their hair and their faces and trying to hold back my tears. I can't let even a hint slip that I might not be coming back, or I won't be leaving without Ulfric.
"Mama, when will you be back this time?" Sofie asks.
"I'm not sure dear. But I love you both very much." I tell her as I pull away from the hug and stand. I force myself to look at Ulfric, remember his features. His broad jaw and deep set eyes that look like lightning storms. His scar that looks like a river trickling down a mountainside. His crooked smile as he wraps an arm around my waist.
"Now, what are you staring at?" He asks playfully. I return the smile, masking my own sadness at leaving him for perhaps the last time.
"You've got something in your teeth." I tell him as I lean to kiss him, wrapping my hand around the back of his neck. I freeze there, his soft breaths against my cheek and his protective arm over my waist. 'I'm doing this because I can't lose you.' I tell him, wondering if he can hear even a whisper of my thoughts.
"Alright, alright you two. The whole castle got enough of your nonsense last night, not in front of the children too." Galmar complains, covering Sofie's and Lucia's eyes. Lucia shoves his hand away.
"You stink." She mumbles. Everyone laughs, and I meet Galmar's eyes. He laughs along, but gives me a knowing look. If I keep acting like this, Ulfric will suspect what's going on. Poor Galmar, always keeping my secrets for me.
"I love you," I tell Ulfric. I think he knew, but this time I'll be sure to tell him anyway. "Take care of the girls, and yourself."
~
After two days, Lydia and I reach the Throat of the World at last. Paarthurnax waits, perched on top of the word wall in the same place he always is. Though he never quite seems relaxed, today he's almost fidgety, if a dragon can really be such a thing.
"You have it. The Kel - the Elder Scroll. Tiid kreh... qalos. Time shudders at its touch. There is no question. You are doom-driven. Kogaan Akatosh. The very bones of the earth are at your disposal. Go then; fulfill your destiny. Take the Scroll to the Time-Wound. Do not delay. Alduin will be coming. He cannot miss the signs." Paarthurnax urges. He seems on edge, but I suppose I would be too if I had been waiting for Alduin to be slain as long as he has.
Lydia holds my dirty knapsack while I pull the scroll out; not exactly the most glamorous way to transport an all-powerful document. Even just holding it in my hands has a dizzying effect. I see it in my hands, but I can't feel it; I still feel the cold wind blistering against my palms where the gold encasement of the scroll should be shielding them. I was skeptical of the scroll's power before I was in its presence, but now it's the only thing in the world that truly intimidates me.
Lydia takes quite a few steps back, shielding herself behind a rock. I've asked her not to try to help, even if she thinks I'll die. She's promised to keep herself and the scroll safe at all cost. I step toward the Time-Wound, holding the scroll in both hands. It took me some time to actually see it, and really you only can if you watch closely enough. The snow in this particular spot never quite falls, even when there is no blizzard. I step into it, then carefully hold the scroll up in front of me. I've seen and read about the effects they can have on people they don't want to read them; I just pray I'm one of the lucky few that the scroll chooses. In one swift motion, I pull the scroll open in front of my eyes. Printed into the paper are hundreds of diagrams and markings, words I can't even begin to understand. The inscriptions glow brightly, singeing themselves into my eyes until I'm blinded.
I'm blind, but at the same time I see everything. The three heroes, Gormlaith, Hakon, and Felldir. Gormlaith and Hakon are confident they can slay Alduin with Dragonrend, but it's to no avail. Gormlaith is slaughtered, and in desperation, Felldir uses the Elder Scroll to throw Alduin into the currents of time, all the way to the day of my execution at Helgen.
As quickly as I was pulled into the vision, I'm ripped out of it. I'm back to the present, and I can hear Alduin's roar and his leathery wings beating against the wind. I would know the sound anywhere.
As my vision returns, I draw Wuuthrad, an appropriate weapon for the occasion.
"Bahloki nahkip sillesejoor. My belly is full of the souls of your fellow mortals, Dovahkiin. Die now and await your fate in Sovngarde!" Alduin groans as he flies overhead. He's bluffing, but much less cocky than he was the last time we spoke in Kynesgrove.
"Even now, Alduin, I hear your voice shake." I tell him accusingly.
"Lost funt. You are too late, Alduin! Dovahkiin! Use Dragonrend, if you know it!" Paarthurnax urges me.
"Joor, Zah, Frul."
With these simple words, my mortal soul strikes at Alduin's own immortal one. I feel him falter, feel him know what it's like to die. He groans in pain and crash lands into the snow.
"My teeth to your neck, Dovahkiin!" He growls before unleashing a hail of flaming boulders and lightning. Dodging them and making blows at his thick, black scales is no easy task. The blizzard almost seems to intensify around us, as if bending to his will. When the first Dragonrend shout wears off, I search for Lydia. She's collapsed in the snow for whatever reason, but there's no time to help her.
~
"Papa, why does Mama go away so much? I thought the war was over now. I thought we could maybe all be together." The girl asked as she kicked a stone. Ulfric winced, gripping her hand tighter as they walked along the streets of Windhelm on a rare day without snow. Sofie always had a way of asking all the questions that hurt the most, but needed to be said.
"Well... I don't know if anyone's ever told you Sofie, but Nova is a very special person..." He began awkwardly.
"Of course I know that. That's why we love her." Sofie replied, sounding a hundred years old.
"Yes, that's true, but not just special to us. Special to the whole world. Important to the whole world. You won't understand for a long time, but I will tell you this; Nova has special powers that make her... like a dragon, I suppose. As far as we know, she's the only person like this." He explained, feeling childish.
"Really?" Sofie exclaimed, stopping in her tracks. He laughed at her slack jaw and wide eyes as he remembered when he had the same reaction.
"Yes dear. She's called the—" suddenly the ground shook, and the piercing screech of a dragon echoed through the high stone walls of Windhelm. People and guards cowered and covered their ears, Sofie latched to his leg. He heard it echo off the mountains, and he knew that all of Skyrim, if not all of Tamriel, must have heard it. He looked up to the Throat of the World, watching huge dark clouds swirl around it.
"Sh e's called the Dragonborn." He mumbled, more to himself than to Sofie.
~
The battle lasts hours, and I think at many points Alduin and I are too evenly matched. My arms and knees shake, and I can feel a burn rising on the entire side of my neck and my cheek; the pain isn't easy to ignore. But then I see droplets of blood trickle into the snow like rain as Alduin flies past, and I know he won't last too much longer.
I force him to land again and tear a deep hole in his wing. He cries out in pain and snaps at me with his jaws, but I jump onto his back, then swing around his horn and stand on the end of his snout, holding it closed. Before he can throw me off, I suddenly dig Wuuthrad into his forehead. His red eyes go wide; I'll admit, I've even surprised myself a little bit, so much that I pull it back out and jump away from him. His blood trickles out of the wound and he fights to stay standing; he suddenly stumbles backward off the cliff of the mountain, not even roaring as he falls. The storm suddenly clears, the dark clouds speeding away from the mountain top. It's all ended so quietly.
I take only one step toward the cliffside, and without warning he speeds upward right in front of me, barely missing my nose.
"Meyz mul, Dovahkiin. You have become strong. But I am Al-du-in, Firstborn of Akatosh! Mulaagi zok lot! I cannot be slain here, by you or anyone else! You cannot prevail against me. I will outlast you... mortal!" He groans as he flies away weakly. I shout Dragonrend at him, but he's already too far away.
"No..." I groan, fighting to catch my breath. "That can't be it... This isn't over..."
"You're right, Dovahkiin. There is another way." Paarthurnax says, staring at the horizon as Alduin disappears.
Fan art: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Paarthurnax-vs-Alduin-370454028