Chapter 487: Chapter 442
Odin looked Thorum up and down with an inquisitive eye. Slowly, his lips curled up in a clear look of satisfaction as the second Dragon was absorbed by Thorum.
He walked up to the confused Nord and slapped his arms. "You're a big one, ain't ya?"
"Aye?" Thorum blinked.
The All-Father let out a laugh. "What's your name, lad?"
"Thorum, um....sir." Thorum said, respectfully. Was it instinctual, or was it just something he did towards someone he perceived as an 'elder'?"
"Hmm, polite one." Odin nodded. "You remind me of my son. Name too, which is funny. You don't wield a hammer by chance, do you?"
"Nay." Thorum shook his head. "I never had the mind for it, Elder. I prefer a Sword in hand, but I can make do with an Axe."
"Nothing wrong with that." Odin stroked his bear. "That's a nice sword you got there." He admired the glowing red sword held to the side of Thorum.
Thorum smiled happily. "Thank you, Elder." He held it up for Odin to see. "Tis a mighty fine blade and has served me well."
"I'm glad you like it, I spent a lot of effort to make it."
"Yes, it's –" Thorum came to a halt. "Pardon, Elder, but you claim to have crafted this weapon?"
"I claim nothing, boy!" Odin's spear had long become a walking stick again and he was using it to smack Thorum's shoulder. "I made that sword and that is a fact!"
"Ah, Apologies!" Thorum awkwardly tried to cover himself. It wasn't particularly hard, so it's not like he was being hurt.
"Hmph." Odin huffed. "An odd thing that a sword with such a hatred for Dragons ended up in the hands of a Man with a Dragon Soul. It wouldn't be wrong to call you a Dragon at this point, huh? Yet it lets you wield it."
Thorum took the inquisitive words of Odin good-naturedly. "Wilhelm spoke similar words. He believes that the sword is willing to be my companion since it is my duty to hunt down the Dragons that menace Skyrim." He said proudly.
Odin moved his head back and forth. "Yeah, that sounds like that bastard." He said, with an accompanying swat of his stick at Gram. "It'd be willing to do anything to kill the most amount of Dragons." He muttered something like 'stupid sword' under his breath.
You know, I didn't know that Odin actually crafted Gram. I knew that he was the source of it being impaled into that tree in legends, along with shattering in the hands of Sigurd's Father, and later reforged via Sigurd. But I would have assumed that Odin just had it crafted by dwarves or something like a lot of weapons from Norse myth.
"I approve of you." Odin finally said. "Just send it back after you enter your final sleep."
"Aye, Elder." Thorum nodded. "I promise this sword will return to its forefathers upon my Death."
"You're a good kid." Odin's expression softened. "I wish we had more brats like you back home." He added on softly.
"Does he get your seal of approval?" I finally interjected into Odin's inspection.
"He's good enough." Odin nodded. "Hard to find someone of his caliber back home with his age. Less than 30 Winters?" He looked at Thorum.
"Aye." Thorum confirmed.
"Hmm, if I had to guess, you get stronger every time you devour the soul of a Dragon?" Odin looked at him in a different light at this point. "Your soul's fire flickered brightly for a moment and it's a tad bigger now too. Give it another few decades, and he'd be a powerhouse acknowledged by everyone back home."
High Praise.
"...thank you?" Thorum was obviously lost on what was going on.
"It's a compliment." I lightly patted his shoulder. "I wanted your help with something, we'll talk about it after settling down later."
"Okay." Thorum was unconcerned, and he shifted over to the others. "Lady Jinn, Lady Scáthach." He greeted my two girls as well.
"Thorum!" Jinn threw herself at him for a hug.
The giggling Genie and the Dragonborn with the big goofy smile were both happy to accept each other's hugs.
"You have become stronger." Scáthach nodded in approval.
"Yes, I have had many good teachers help me." Thorum agreed.
Scáthach kept a wistful smile about her as she studied him for a moment. "In a different time and place." She said softly while shaking her head.
"My friend, you truly bring the most curious things with you!" Thorum recovered from meeting everyone and threw an arm over my shoulder. "A flying ship? You do not do things quietly." He laughed. "You will take me for a ride, yes?"
"Glady." I couldn't help but smile at his infectious attitude. "But let's hold off for now, got some things I wanted to talk about. How about we head inside? It's been awhile since I've seen everyone."
"Wonderful!" Thorum beamed. "It has been far too long since we've shared a drink!"
"This really is just like home." Odin muttered to himself.
"Elder, and Ladies, you are all welcome. Those that know Wilhelm are welcome friends!"
"Well, I won't say no to a drink." Odin agreed.
"Actually, I need to go drop off the shipment from Yasaka to the Jarl." Jinn raised her hand.
"I will go with her." Scáthach added.
Good, I didn't want Jinn to be accosted by any unsavory people around these parts. Jinn could handle herself, I didn't doubt that, but she didn't deserve that kind of interaction.
"Come, the Jorrvaskr is on the way! I will speak of the time we have been apart." Thorum held his arms open, spinning back towards the entrance to Whiterun where we had started pulling a bit of a crowd.
"Dragon Born." One of the Guards greeted.
"Red Dragon Emperor." Another said in acknowledgement.
Odin let out a snort. "That lizard is probably insufferably smug, isn't he?" Odin said just enough for me to hear.
"You have no idea." I let out a small sigh.
I stopped at one of the Guards as we entered. They weren't surprised by our unique appearances anymore, but that obviously didn't take into account the flying magical ship. Atleast, they were used to Jinn and our own style of dress.
I held my hand out, producing a small satchel of Septims, giving it a little weigh before tossing it to him. "Mind watching my ship?"
The Guard caught it, looked down and weighed it himself and quickly put it away. "I'll call some of the boys to keep away the folks." He nodded with a happy tone.
That's why I loved Nords, they're so direct.
I turned back around to see Odin standing nearby a female smith, hammering away on a sword.
He watched her curiously for a moment or two, not that she minded all that much. Her forge was outside for everyone to see, she was probably used to it.
Odin just silently ran a hand through his beard before he nodded to himself and walked to another sight. A stall that was set up nearby, selling all kinds of fruit and such.
He perused, but didn't buy or speak, merely taking it in.
He was...I think he was enjoying himself. And I didn't want to disturb him at the moment.
"So how have you been, Thorum? Besides those two Dragons, have they been attacking a lot?" I asked.
"The attacks have slowed down. You saw the fields of Wheat outside?"
"I did." There were farms that had recovered from when I last saw them.
Thorum nodded. "The last attack was well over a fortnight. And all the Dragons that have attacked were not...."
"Strong?" I offered because Thorum wasn't really struggling with the two when we arrived. He would have handled them easily enough, just a bit awkwardly since they can, you know, fly.
"Aye." Thorum agreed. "It worries me that they speak of their stronger brethren yet I have not met them."
That is worrying.
"And what of the big Dragon himself?"
"Alduin." Thorum spoke the name with some trepidation. "Rumors have spoken of his appearance as if a Ghost. He appears in some places north for a brief moment, laying fire down upon any he gazes. But I have heard contradictions of the mighty Black Dragon appearing far south, much of the same."
"Have you considered that they're both correct?" Alduin was supposedly the strongest Dragon, and Dragons have some bullshit Magical Abilities. "Who's to say that he doesn't have some method to travel that far in moments?"
Thorum frowned. "It seems my worries increase. But your words speak true, it is a possibility even if I do not understand."
"I'm always here if you need help." I made sure to remind him.
"Aye, I know I can count on you, my friend." Thorum smiled. "I fear the final battle with Alduin is yet determined, the mighty Dragon schemes and we will have to wait for it to appear."
I was about to respond but I noticed a certain group of people and scrunched my nose in annoyance. "Are they seriously still around?"
"Ah...." Thorum scratched his head. "Tis unfortunate." My friend let out a sigh. "After the last incident, the Jarl was more firm with their allowances. We have since barred them from entering the Jorrvaskr, but now they simply stand outside."
"And there's nothing you can really do about it without causing an incident that would be disfavorable for you." I could summarize the situation.
"Yes." Thorum nodded. "They are free to accost anyone coming and going from the Jorrvaskr."
"Let me guess, they're intentionally trying to start something just so they can point fingers and escalate it?"
"You are wise, my friend. The Jarl sent one of his to warn us of their ploys. They warned us to keep our fists away from their faces, lest we trouble ourselves further." Thorum let out a small laugh. "However, they can be a mite aggravating."
"Hoh." Odin took this opportunity to pop up between us. "They causing you trouble, boy?"
"It is merely an inconvenience, Elder." Thorum replied evenly. "They will bore themselves eventually and return from whence they came."
Unlikely.
They're intentionally trying to start things – obviously nonviolently on their side – just for Thorum or one of the Companions to throw a punch and then they can cry foul and push for something they want or perhaps 'arrest' one of them for assaulting a Thalmor Emissary. We got away with what we did last time because 'how did we know they were Thalmor's or some other stupid shit they couldn't dispute.
But now, it's probably been sorted and they're using it to their advantage.
Kind of clever, in an annoying way. Nords are the type of people who will most certainly throw a punch without much provocation. Mostly for good reasons, but that doesn't really matter in this circumstance.
Obviously, they want some kind of control over Thorum as he's a very hot commodity right now with the return of the Dragons.
"I can handle them." I thought up an idea. "When it comes to being shameless, they have no idea who they're messing with."
"Don't boast about that." Scáthach pinched my side.
"Brat, listen to your woman." Odin chuckled. "Besides, when it comes to shamelessness, you're thousands of years too early to compare with me." He puffed up. "Watch a master at work."
"Elder, you need not interfere, it's –"
"Hush, boy." Odin shushed him. "Let a master show his craft." He grabbed his walking stick at a different position, and he started adjusting his posture. "Oof, that's going to be a doozy to fix later." He let out a groan as he looked naturally hunched over. He then took his hat off, tossing it into me. He ran a hand through his hair, making it look a bit more scraggly. "You say they mess with anyone coming and going?" Odin asked.
"Aye." Thorum nodded.
"Hmph." Odin snorted, hobbling towards the Jorrvaskr.
We were out of sight from them, but close enough that we could hear.
"Hold it, state your business." One of the Thalmor Elves held a hand up in front of Odin.
"Haaaah!?" Thorum had a particular drawl to his tone that really hit a certain trigger with his act.
"I said, state your business!" The Elf reiterated.
"HAAAAAAAAAAAAH!?"
"I said, state your business!"
"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!?"
"I SAID, STATE YOUR BUSINESS!" The Elf raised his voice to match Odin.
"WHY DO YOU WANNA KNOW ABOUT MY FISHES!?" Odin was being intentionally loud. It was enough that many eyes in the surroundings turned to look.
"I said – " The Elf frowned. "Why are you here?" He enunciated it pretty clearly with additional effort.
"OF COURSE I WANT A BEER, WHY ELSE AM I COMING HERE YOU IDIOT!?"
"This place is off limits, Old Timer." The Elf took a more direct stance in front of him.
"WHY WOULD I KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS? DO I LOOK LIKE A CLOCK YOU BRAT? BACK IN MY DAY, YOUNG'UNS HAD RESPECT FOR THE ELDERLY! WHERE ARE YOUR PARENTS? I'M GOING TO GO HAVE A TALK WITH YOUR MOM ABOUT HOW YOU WERE RAISED! AFTER I'M DONE PLOWING HER OF COURSE." He let out an exaggerated laugh and wheeze as if he was having trouble breathing.
The Elf put a hand on Odin's shoulder. "That's enough – "
"AHHHHH!" Odin let out a blood curdling scream as he fell to the ground. "HELP, MURDER, ASSAULT! I CAN'T FEEL MY ARM!"
"What, I didn't!? This is –"
"I'VE FALLEN AND I CAN'T GET UP!"
At this point, a bunch of people were now circling them.
"It wasn't enough that you don't let us worship Talos, now you're attacking the elderly!?"
"Why don't you pick on someone that can fight back, elf!"
"Aye, they've gone too far now!"
"I did not do anything!" The Elf quickly tried to defend himself. "I merely touched him and he –"
Odin then threw up a mouthful of blood. "Wife, I'm coming to meet you! Let it be known, that this old man may be bloodied, but his head is not bowed!"
That only seemed to further intensify the crowd around him.
".....I admit defeat." I said quietly.
"That is certainly....impressive." Thorum settled on.
"We do not know him." Scáthach decided. "Let us part ways here."
"Alrighty, we'll be back later~" Jinn said happily.
"Let's go inside." I pat Thorum's shoulder as the crowd were focused on Odin and the Thalmor, we easily walked into the Jorrvaskr.
@***@
"Oi, Milk Drinker, you're back!" I recognized the woman sitting down with the others as we walked inside.
Before I could respond, Odin also pushed the door open, trotting inside, looking very proud of himself. "You all missed the best parts! Those Pointy eared brats went running."
"Huh, you got those Thalmor to run away?" Farkas intoned. "How'd you manage that?"
Thorum cleared his throat. "The Elder is....persuasive."
"Hahaha, I threw myself onto the ground when they touched me!" Odin said without an ounce of shame. "Now everyone's saying they beat up a poor old man."
Everyone just stared at him..
"Fuck, I'll drink to that." Aela broke the silence.
"Why don't I buy you a drink, my lovely lady." Odin slid onto the table right next to her. "You can show me your thanks later~
Aela snorted. "Can you even get it up anymore, old man?"
"Hah, they don't call me virile Odin for nothing!"
"Nobody calls him that." I clarified.
"Brat, why you gotta block me like this? I've never had a werewolf girl before." Odin slumped.
"What did you say?" On an opposite table, another member of their Companions stood up. He was bald and wore heavy armor. I vaguely remembered his name was Skjor, one of the highest ranking members of their group.
Everyone looked at Odin, then at Thorum. And when Thorum looked confused and looked my way, I realized the issue.
"Don't look at me, I didn't tell him."
"Tell me what? That you're werewolves? Isn't it obvious?" Odin said it as a matter of factly. "I could smell the wet fur even before I entered the building."
".....that's a tightly kept secret within the Companions, Old Man." Aela warned.
"Question, what are the 'Companions'?" Odin asked, ignoring the intense gazes he was getting.
"Are ya serious?" Aela looked at him dumbstruck.
"What kind of Nord are you?" Vilkas spat.
"Watch your tone, boy. I'm older than anyone here." Odin's eye narrowed and Vilkas shuddered slightly.
"The Companions are a group of battle bonded that take missions for slaying monsters and protecting Skyrim." Skjor answered.
"Mercenaries."
"That isn't incorrect, but we do not put coin above our honor." Skjor answered.
"Admirable then." Odin stroked his beard. "Who's in charge?"
"...that would be Kodlak Whitemane, the Harbinger." Farkas answered.
"Where's he?" Odin looked around.
"He's downstairs." Thorum said softly. "I'm afraid he won't be able to meet you, Elder. Sovngarde calls for him."
Odin looked at him, then at me.
"Valhalla." I stated.
It was enough for Odin to understand the situation.
"Interesting." Odin was stroking his beard again. "Can I meet him? I'm curious about the caliber of warrior that created the Companions." I guess he could gleam that the title they carried meant something for the people around here.
Thorum frowned again. "Elder, it's not so simple. It's....complicated."
"I thought Kodlak would have passed far sooner." I remember helping him extend his life for a brief period, but even that had limits. I was being polite, but he should have died awhile ago.
"The Archmage visited." Thorum stated. "He used his Magics to keep the Harbinger in a state between life and death as he said. It will not last much longer, we are preparing a ritual to...erm."
"You said you guys were looking for a method to remove his Lycanthropy, have you still not figured anything out?" I realized why they were waiting.
"We have been searching for the ingredients. We're only missing the head of a Witch of Glenmoril. They are Hags, monstrous beasts, but specifically, they must be of this order and we cannot find one."
I could see the sadness on Thorum's face and the tone that carried it. I didn't really care all that much, but.... "Take me to see him, I might be able to help. I can't promise anything, but it can't hurt."
"If you think you can help, we would appreciate anything." Skjor was quick to agree, and as sort of the defacto highest authority here, everyone else seemed to accept that.
And It's not like I was a stranger at this point, I knew them well enough being Thorum's friend and helping out by my own hand.
"Come on." Skjor got up, going towards the back as everyone followed behind.
It didn't take long for us to go downstairs where they had beds for all the Companions who stayed at the Jorrvaskr. It wasn't much, sort of looked like the seating arranged for the 'crew' of my own ship. Small areas without doors, but enough room for a bed and a bit of leg room with some small dividers between them.
But furthest into the corner, there was the man in question.
"Hoh, that's pretty decent spell work." Odin admired as we both set eyes on The Harbinger, enveloped with a golden light as his body was in a sort of magical stasis.
"Elder, are you knowledgeable about Magic?" Thorum asked.
"I know a thing or two." Odin said rather cryptically.
I mean, Thorum saw Odin 1-shot that Dragon, so it's obvious that Odin was far from ordinary, but I suppose that doesn't equate to Magical Knowledge from his perspective.
"My friend, can you do anything?" Thorum asked. "If we only had a bit more time, I'm sure we can find the things we need."
"It's too late." Odin answered for me. "Even with this, he won't last much longer. As soon as the spells wear off, he's going to die in minutes. His spirit is all but dry and his soul is withering under the strain."
I didn't deny it.
"What does this ritual do, boy?" Odin poked Thorum.
"It....it is supposed to remove the inner wolf they say. To allow The Harbinger into Sovngarde."
"Why can't he get in as a werewolf?" Odin asked.
"Werewolves belong to Hircine in the Eternal Hunt. Even if they are a Nord, they will never reach Sovngarde." He explained.
"Then why didn't he remove it sooner?" Odin snorted. "I can tell by the age of his soul, that he has been a werewolf for decades. Why did he wait for so long?" The All-Father looked around.
"It's a useful tool." Farkas crossed his arms. "It allows us to be stronger, faster, more durable. It lets us be strong enough to match the monsters around here."
Odin studied him for a few moments and ended up frowning before turning to me. "Boy, do you got something to give him a small oomph? I can remove that 'inner wolf' of his, but it's pointless if he dies as soon as we remove him from the stasis."
With a sigh, I searched my ring for something in particular. It was a very small vial, with only about three drops of liquid inside of it.
"That'll do it." Odin mused.
It contained a few drops of juice from the Peach of Immortality. I gave the entire thing to Venelana to make some Wine, but I wasn't going to forgo everything about it. I did take a few drops of the juices for an emergency if the situation called for it.
Odin, unceremoniously destroyed the stasis spells around the Old Nord. His eyes shot open and he was about to talk, but the All-Father grabbed his mouth, holding it open.
I held it over the Harbinger's mouth and let a single drop fall past his lips. The effects were almost instantaneous, the weathered and aged look in his eyes disappeared and he suddenly looked full of vigor. Sure, he didn't actually change, but this was enough energy to get him up and moving for at least the rest of the day.
"Who are you?" Kodlak Whitemane looked at Odin.
"Doesn't matter." Odin harrumphed. "I got a few questions for you, answer me and I'll remove that 'wolf' inside of you so you can go to Sovngarde."
Kodlak's eyes flashed in realization of what Odin said. The situation lent itself to confirm his words as he swept his gaze around and saw the unconcerned look of people he recognized as friends and family.
"What might you ask of me?"
"You willingly became a Werewolf, did you?" Odin asked.
"Aye." Whiteman didn't deny it.
"And now, at the end of your life, you're trying to remove the 'wolf' inside of you."
He nodded again. "Yes."
"So you're a coward." Odin summarized.
"Oi, you old bastard. Just because –"
Odin's walking stick jerked back, slamming into Farkas's stomach, sending the large Nord flying backwards into the wall far behind us. He was groaning from where he landed, so it was safe to assume he was only in pain and nothing was seriously harmed.
Everyone became very still and quiet after that little display.
"You know that taking the Werewolf curse would bar you from Sovngarde."
"I knew." He once more didn't deny.
"You're a coward that took the easy way out." Odin scowled. "Instead of bettering yourself, you decided to become a Werewolf."
"There were no options –"
"No options!?" Odin raised his voice and his hand pointed at Thorum. "That boy there is filled with Magic, is that something you're not capable of!?"
"A Nord doesn't –"
"Are you gonna tell me that a 'Nord doesn't use Magic'?" Odin cut him off, but the Older Nord's look basically confirmed it. "Fool, idiotic, stupid." Odin threw his hands up. "You.....sold your souls, as opposed to learning some simple magic?"
"Oi, it was the only choice we had! No one would take us seriously if we went around throwing fireballs! A Nord is only as good as their sword hand. And good steel can't do much about the monsters out there. There are Dragons, Old Man, what are we supposed to do against that kind of monster?!" Aela lost her composure and began to argue.
"Hmph, do you think Magic is only about throwing around fancy fire and lightning? There are more magics to make you stronger than you can imagine! Make your swords cut better, make your armor harder! But instead, you all took the easy way out." Odin scoffed. "Selling your souls for quick and easy power, and when the bell finally tolls, and the price needs to be paid, you try to run away. I name you cowards!"
I didn't interrupt, partly because I was surprised that Odin worked himself up into such a huff.
But I suppose it's not that strange. Odin was a God of Warriors, he respected strength, conviction, honor, and valor. He would not dismiss a Werewolf for being a Werewolf. He would not dismiss a man for being a man.
But a man who becomes a Werewolf because it's an easy way to get stronger, and then tries to squeeze out of 'paying his dues' would piss Odin off.
"You have no right – "
"It's alright, Aela." The Harbinger held up a hand to stop her as he held a melancholic smile. "I wanted strength, so I willingly accepted the curse of the Werewolf knowing that Sovngarde would be lost to me. And here I am now, wanting to escape the consequences of my own actions after reaping the rewards it brought. I am a coward."
"Harbinger..."
"My only regret is that we allowed you all to follow in our footsteps. You are now cursed and at the end of my days, I see that we were foolish to seek this path. I will accept my fate, let my last moments of cowardice motivate you to cast off the curse. You are all splendid warriors who will brighten Sovngarde when your time comes, don't waste it like I did."
Odin snorted, then shot his hand forward, it pierced into the Harbinger's chest. He retracted his hand and the Harbinger fell to the side, completely lifeless.
It took a moment before the roars started.
Weapons were drawn, and shouts were had, all directed at Odin.
The All-Father snorted again in annoyance as everyone around him became frozen in place. He waved his hand, and gradually an outline formed, a silhouette that looked exactly like the Harbinger, a specter, his soul form appeared standing next to his corpse.
They didn't notice that the body of the Harbinger didn't have a single physical wound on it. There was no blood on the floor, and no hole in his chest.
Once more, silence permeated the room.
The Spirit looked at himself, then at his own body, a strange expression on his ethereal face.
Odin, opening his hand, the cry of a wolf resounded, muffled, but howling with pain and fury. With a flex, he crushed it.
It didn't take a genius to realize what he did.
"Thank you." The Harbinger's spirit spoke.
"Humility and honor in the face of death." Odin spoke. "Those are the traits of a true Warrior. I, Odin, All-Father and God of Asgard deem you fit for Sovngarde, if anyone disputes my words, they may speak now." His words weren't very loud, but they carried with them a weight.
As soon as he finished, the specter of the Harbinger turned gold, and it began to disappear. Vaguely, we could just make out the outline of gates opening for him in another plane of existence.
It took several moments for everyone to snap back to their senses as the Harbinger's death was still extremely fresh on their minds.
"Wait." Aela's expression turned strange. "Did you say God?!?"
[***]
A/N
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