Sovngarde

18th of Frostfall, 4E 201

The Dragonborn Bernadette stands before her comrades, looking on at the spot where Alduin the World-Eater had vanished. Bloodied and battered, voice sore from Shouting, she sheathes her blade and turns to face the spectral figures behind her.

Hakon One-Eye, the tall armored warrior, stands nearly a full head taller than the young Breton. Felldir the Old, who reminds Bernadette of one of the Greybeards, leans against his Ancient Nordic Greatsword, it's tip buried into the soil. Gormlaith Golden-Hilt, the most fearless of them all, whose death the Breton witnessed, simply smiles warmly at the Dragonborn, clearly proud of what they have achieved.

"Even here, where heroes throng, few can match this mighty deed." The Nord spirit boasts. "The Gods themselves must envy us this well-earned honor!"

"The doom of Alduin encompassed at last." The towering Tsun adds. "Cleansed is Sovngarde of his evil snare. They will sing of this battle in Shor's Hall forever."

"I look forward to hearing those songs." Bernadette says, pulling back her Thieves Guild Hood. "But…"

"Your fate lies elsewhere." Tsun finishes her thought. The Breton nods with a slightly sad expression, looking around at the beautiful landscape around the group.

"In a time such as this, with a brave warrior such as yourself, an exception can be made when race is brought into question."

The Dragonborn looks up into Tsun's eyes. "But this is the Nordic afterlife." She says.

"And you are a figure of Norse mythology." Felldir points out.

"When you finish your count of days." Tsun continues. "I may welcome you again, with glad friendship, and bid you join the blessed feasting."

"All hail the Dragonborn!" Hakon, Felldir and Gormlaith cheer in unison. "Hail her with great praise!"

With Alduin's soul snare gone, souls lost in the icy grip of the mist were beginning to make their way to the bridge to Shor's Hall. Some Imperial soldiers, and more than a few Stormcloaks, yet one in the group stood out. He was wearing high-end looking, nobleman clothing and a golden crown. His face was incredibly familiar to the Breton. The man stops to admire the group of warriors, and that's when Bernadette finally recognised the man.

"High King Torygg?" She asked in disbelief.

"Aye." The man says warmly. "At least I used to be."

"Before Ulfric murdered you." Bernadette growls.

Torygg shakes his head. "No. There was no murder. Ulfric challenged me, and I accepted. I faced him fearlessly - my fate inescapable, yet my honor is unstained. Can Ulfric say the same?"

The Breton looks down for a moment. "So Roggvir was right." The High King nods. "He was executed for allowing Ulfric to escape Solitude after killing you." The Dragonborn explains, to which Torygg nods again.

"I know. Such an unfortunate waste. Roggvir was a great man. The best Solitude had to offer." The High King watches a group of Imperial soldiers pass. "When Ulfric Stormcloak, with savage Shout, sent me here, my sole regret was my fair Elisif, left forlorn and weeping."

Bernadette looks back at Tsun, then forward again to the High King. "I must return to Nirn soon. Sovngarde is not meant for those still living. My King, if there are any words you wish for me to carry to Lady Elisif, it would be my honor."

Torygg smiles. "My dear Dragonborn. You have done so much for her already. Serving as her Thane, destroying the plague known as Wolfskull Cave…"

"But Elisif misses you dearly." The Breton insists. "Every day, she curses Ulfric's name to the winds and calls for the deaths of all who follow him."

The High King looks down for a long moment, then up at the Dragonborn.

"Very well. Tell her...what I have told you. That Ulfric and I fought fairly, that I respect him as an opponent an a leader, and that she should hold no resentment towards him. Tell her not to mourn my passing, but to remember our lives together and rejoice in my memory. Tell her that I miss her dearly, and that after she has lived a long, happy life as High Queen, that I look forward to holding her in my arms again."

Bernadette smiles happily. "It will be done, my King."

Behind her, Tsun approaches, politely waiting for the Breton to turn and face him.

"When you are ready to return to the land of the living, just bid me so, and I will send you back."

The Dragonborn looks to her compatriots, to Shor's glistening Hall, and then to High King Torygg.

"I'm ready." She says with a nod.

"Return now to Nirn, with this boon from Shor, my lord: a Shout to bring a hero of Sovngarde in your hour of need." Tsun steps back and takes a breath. Bernadette squeezes her eyes shut.

"Nahl...Daal Vus!"

When the Breton opens her eyes again, she is greeted by the blistering cold of the Throat of The World. All around, several dragons are perched on the surrounding rock craggs.

"Alduin Mahlaan!" Their voices thunder through the sky. "Alduin has fallen." Bernadette says to herself, the words filling her with pride.

"Sahrot thur qahnaraan!" One dragon calls out, before taking off in flight. "The mighty Overlord is vanquished."

The remaining dragons take a breath of frigid air before raising their heads again.

"Alduin Mahlaan!"

"Dovahkiin los ok Dovahkriid!" Another shouts as he raises his wings. "Dragonborn is his Dragonslayer."

"Alduin Mahlaan!" The dragons cry out, one sending a cone of flame into the air.

"Thu'umii los nahlot!" The dragon farthest away says, slowly rising from his rocky perch. "His Voice is silenced!" Each word makes Bernadette even more proud of her accomplishment. "I have destroyed the World-Eater." She lifts her gaze to the heavens. "Not bad for an 'Arrogant Mortal', eh Alduin?"

"Alduin Mahlaan!" The dragons cry one last time. The Dragonborn looks to the last one still grounded. He returns her gaze, before lifting his head into the sky.

"Mu los vomir!"

"We are free!"

The dragons all disperse, going their separate ways. The Dragonborn feels a smile growing on her lips. She has saved the world, and freed the dragons from Alduin's dictatorship. She looks to the sky again as the sound of flapping wings approaches. Odahviing hovers above for a moment, before landing at the Dragonborn's side.

"Pruzah wundunne wah Wuth Gein." The dragon purrs. "I wish the Old One luck in his...quest. But I doubt many will wish to exchange Alduin's Lordship for the tyranny of Paarthurnax's 'Way of the Voice'."

"It is quite the transition." Bernadette comments. "What will you do now?"

"As for myself, you have proven your mastery twice over. Thuri, Dovahkiin. I gladly acknowledge the power of your Thu'um. Zu'u Odahviing. Call me if you need help, and I will come if I can."

The Breton speaks up before the massive dragon can fly off.

"Actually, I don't mean to impose, but...could you do me a massive favor?"

Odahviing looks down his snout at the tiny mortal before him, and after a moment, a smile exposes a row of his large teeth.

"For the Dovahkiin...Hi lost nuz wah laan. You've but to ask."

Castle Dour courtyard, Solitude

Haafingar Hold

Ten minutes later

A pair of Solitude city guard recruits stand before a set of archery targets. The two periodically let arrows fly, yet their aim isn't the best at this range. Their commander, Captain Aldis, hovers behind the men and corrects their errors whenever necessary.

"Come on now!" Says the Captain. "I want those arrows dead center. Your comrades will be depending on you." One of the recruits shakily lets loose an arrow. It sails so far off course that it embeds itself in the next target over. The man sheepishly looks back to the Captain, who sighs for a moment.

"Alright. Here. Let me." Captain Aldis approaches and requests the bow be turned over. Before he can, the recruit looks past him and into the skies above.

"Dragon!" He cries in terror. Aldis and the other men in the courtyard look up to see a large, red-winged dragon quickly closing in on them.

"Positions!" The Captain barks. "Archers at the ready!" The dragon passes over the terrified soldiers, many of them wondering why they aren't being attacked.

"Is that...someone on it's back?" One man asks. Upon closer inspection of the winged lizard above, the Captain can make out the figure of a person seated behind it's head, pointing to a clear spot in the courtyard. The dragon slows, touching down and kicking up a cloud of dust. Captain Aldis is the first to approach as the dust clears, finally able to identify the person on the dragon's back as none other than Bernadette, Thane of Solitude.

"Hold your fire!" Aldis bellows, sheathing his sword. The men around him cautiously obey, watching as the Breton hops down to the ground.

"I'll never tire of that view." She says excitedly. "Thanks for the ride, Odahviing." The dragon looks around at the soldiers, then down to the young woman.

"My pleasure, Dovahkiin. Perhaps next time, you won't land us in a place surrounded by the Lahvu? Military?"

Bernadette smiles and nods. "Ruz tiid." At that, the dragon flies away without incident. The men scattered throughout the courtyard simply watch, either the dragon or the Thane, with awe.

"Thane Bernadette." Captain Aldis says after a moment. "You always know how to make an entrance."

The Dragonborn shrugs. "It was unfortunately necessary. I have an urgent message for Jarl Elisif."

"Hmm...then you landed in the right place. Lady Elisif is inside Castle Dour, speaking with General Tullius. Follow me."

The inside of the castle appears to not have been alerted to Odahviing's arrival. Soldiers bustle through the halls, Battle Maidens work on wounded men from the new front line in Markarth, and new recruits are being initiated. In the map room at the end of the hall, Legate Rikke and Jarl Elisif surround a map of Skyrim. General Tullius paces the room with a clear expression of frustration.

"General." Aldis says as the pair enter the room.

"Ah, the Dragonborn returns." Legate Rikke observes.

"What is it, Captain?" Tullius asks with annoyance.

"Thane Bernadette wishes to speak with Lady Elisif." He explains. General Tullius looks at the young Breton with a scowl.

"Welcome back." The General says. "Thank you, Captain." Captain Aldis salutes and leaves the room.

"I hope you're here to help clean up the mess you've caused, Dragonborn." Tullius says. "I can't tell you how many men I've lost with these new front lines."

"Sir." Rikke interrupts. "Respectfully, that isn't her fault."

"The peace conference was her idea! Not mine!"

"I didn't kill your men, General." Bernadette pipes up. "Their sacrifice helped me to complete my mission. To help me save the world." The Nord Legate folds her arms and looks at her Imperial superior, who appears slightly deflated. "The Empire and the Legion have my sympathies, but I am not one of your soldiers. There may come a day where I may help you, but that isn't today. I would like to speak with Lady Elisif...privately."

The Jarl rises from her seat. "Come with me, Bernadette. I know a place where we can talk."

The young Thane follows the Jarl out of the map room up a short flight of stairs and into a small smoking room. Closing the door, Elisif turns around. "Now then, what did you want to talk about?"

"My Jarl." Bernadette begins, taking Elisif's hand and guiding her to a nearby chair. "You may wish to sit down for this. I...have a very important message for you."