The Stormcloak Queen - A skyrim Fanfiction

[26] Sovengarde

Legit filler chapter

"Dragons are serious business Farengar." Lydia sighed, kicking back in a chair on the porch as I sorted through what I would be talking to Alduin's lair.
"Just a small sample..."
"Don't piss it off..." She warned.
"I only need some blood and scales!"
"Don't piss it off!"
"I literally have a box of scales and bones somewhere, can you just not take it from the dragon I'm having to trust with flying me across the country?" I snapped, motioning to one of the guards to release the dragon.
"They're no good! I really could benefit from sampling a live specimen!"
"Ask him yourself Farengar!" I huffed, packing my bag a touch more vigorously as I spoke. "Odahviing is his own man with the autonomy over his own body. I do not own him."

Odahviing gave off a snort that sounded some what like a laugh and lowered his head slightly to allow Farengar near. "I have a long journey ahead wizard. Be gentle."
"I only need a little."
"There go his eyebrows." Lydia snorted as Odhaviing snorted in displeasure at Farengars poking. "It's what you get!"

There is a lot of chanting in the halls of sovengarde. And fighting and drinking and out of tune singing. Ulfric is going to love it here eventually. In a long, long time, I hope.

I savoured my time getting here, to this hallowed hall. Took in each and every step along the whale bone bridge, ran my fingers along the carved door and stared out into the Misty night. This is the land each true Nord dreams of spending their eternity in and gods was it beautiful.

Would I spend my eternity here? Did my soul belong with Akatosh as his Dragonborn? Would I be cursed to spend it with some Deadra? I was doing whatever it took these days to just keep surviving the challenges this life was throwing at me and not all of them were savoury. Perhaps my soul would be ripped to shreds by all the fighting over it and I'd be dust on the wind or maybe, I'd never die. I liked the notion of getting to spend my eternity somewhere nice but I could see it likely that my soul was torn to shreds and I was nothing but dust. There are worse things than dust I supposed.

In these hallowed halls I am in a daze. I gape at Ysgramor until he thumps me on the back jovially and asks if it's all a bit much. "You are weary traveler. Take a breath before you speak to the heroes of old and vanquish Alduin, even if it has to be a short one. I think someone wants to talk to you anyway."

"Freya? What are you doing here?" A surprised voice calls out, a few feet from where I stand with Ysgramor himself. "I had hoped it be much longer than this before I saw my little cub again."
"Father." I gasp, throwing myself into the tightest hug of my life and tears prick my eyes. He looks healthier, perhaps younger than when I last saw him but every  bit my father.

I'm not quite sure if I'm happy or sad, a bitter sweet mix of the two probably.

"What happened, Freya?" He asked, holding my face in his hands. He looks as if he's surveying me for damage. "I hope Tsun didn't give my girl to tough a time at the bridge."
"I'm not dead."
"What?"
"I'm not dead." I laugh, placing my hands over my fathers "I'm the dovahkiin, I'm here to kill Alduin for good. I should be able to go home to Skyrim afterwards."
"My daughter, the Dragonborn, if only your mother and brynjolf could see you now." He speaks with such love when he talks about them, such pride. His son, his good warrior boy is a thief, a criminal living in the sewers bellow Riften. Not quite the military command in the imperial legion my father had dreamed for him before his death. His wife, my gods dammed mother was probably living the high life in the Summerset isles with all the dirty elves she apparently held so dear, basking in the pile of gold she got from selling us all out to the aldemeri dominon. My fathers and his battalions plans, leading to their ambush and death, and me, the noble brat good for the information she hears as a fly on the wall and the ransom she might yield.

He doesn't need to know all that. I can let him have his peace.

"Brynjolf is alive."
"What?" He gapes at me. "But during the war..."
"I thought so too for years but it wasn't him. He's alive"
"How is my son?" He smiles, tears forming in his eyes. " I had wondered why he hadn't made it to sovengarde."
"He's living in Riften. He has a little market stall." out of which he sells fake and stolen goods.

It hits me then that we will never be together as a family here. Brynjolf is destined for some daedric realm, to be together with some Deadric Prince, just as likely as I am to have my soul clawed at by Sithis. We are not good people like our father.

"My son a merchant! I could never have thought that from him!"
"It came to a surprise to me too when I saw him selling his wares."
"I thought you were all alone all these years Freya but knowing you have your brother there comforts me. He can take care of you."
"I can take care of myself now." I assured him patting the warhammer strapped to my back.
"I know you can cub, but you'll always be my little girl. I want to know you have your brother there for you."
"I do papa. We stay in touch now we've found each other again."

"Dragonborn." Someone calls out from across the hall and I know my time here has run to an end. I'm not ready.

"Are you happy here? Is this everything you ever dreamed of when you told us stories of valour when we were young?"
"Everything and more." My father assures me and I nod, a sigh of relief leaving me. "Freya, I love you more than life itself. Take care of yourself and know I'll be here at the end."
"I'll see you soon papa. I love you." I smile, I hold him close and then I turn. I am ready.

And it was all, sort of black from that moment until I woke up in high horthgar.
I know there was a battle with Alduin, I could tell you the fight blow by blow but it wasn't like I lived it. I wanted to keep my memory of my time in Sovengarde sweet. My father and I together again. I'll make something up for the bards, for the questions in taverns. The real story is just for me.

"You awaken!" Arngeir, exclaims. "Far earlier than I hoped."
Moving to sit up I felt a sharp pain down my side.
"Don't, your wounds are not yet healed and there is only so much I can do."
"I need to get to Windhelm." I groaned, my voice hoarse.
"You're in no state to travel."
"I need to get to Windhelm, the armistice will have ended by now." I said forcefully. Or as forcefully as I could muster. "What happened anyway?"
"You killed Alduin and then made your way to the monastery. It was Master Boli that found you collapsed on the steps. You are in no position to travel."