Not Alone (A Skyrim Fanfiction)

Chapter 29

Chapter 29

     Honestly, I wasn't sure what I was angriest about right now.  I had a list of several things I could choose from, and all were at the forefront of my mind at the moment.

     First, the Divines-blasted headache wouldn't go away.  I didn't have any time whatsoever to spare for such distractions, and after already having been out completely for nearly a day and a half, I couldn't spend any more time waiting for it to subside.  Unfortunately I also couldn't get drunk because there was still the possibility Whiterun might get attacked and I needed to be alert as possible to deal with that eventuality.

     Second, my shoulder had once more started up that infuriating ache.  I could fight with my right arm, climb onto a horse or a dragon, or secure the rope on a tent without any kind of discomfort, pain, or any other feeling in that shoulder, but apparently every time I used the Death Shout the old injury flared up again.

     On that subject, I now hated the Death Shout for more reasons than just the different aches it caused.  Due to other pressing concerns, I had managed to almost completely forget about that feeling of not being alone when I had used the Words in Windhelm.  Now it was much more than a feeling and I couldn't forget it even if I wanted to.  For lack of any better way to put it, there was something very... wrong, about the Death Shout.  It acted almost the way my dragon soul did when I used a Shout, but I didn't have that and I could tell that whatever was letting me utter this Shout was not actually a part of me.  It was something... else. 

     Aside from these problems, if Jarl Vignar had formed a low opinion of me before, now this opinion was so low it could probably have sunk to the bottom of the Sea of Ghosts.  In his eyes not only had I practically abandoned the city under my charge for an entire two days (it had been a full day before I had woken up from my headache induced coma state enough to force myself onto Odahviing and fly back), but I had said a few things that I rather regretted now to him when he attempted to bring this up.  I had still been half out of things from the pain and I should have just shut up and not said anything, but I had and I doubted any amount of apology would help at this point. 

     There was one last issue I had with my present circumstances, and this one struck at my very core.  It was something I had promised myself never to do, but I couldn't really ask a dragon to do it, I certainly didn't have time to go myself, and it would make no sense to send a valuable soldier. 

     Therefore, I had no choice but to rely on the very couriers that I had so often belittled and mocked to carry the missive I had prepared informing Ulfric of Maven's offer to supply troops and my acceptance letter to the woman herself. 

     This one little inescapable fact irked me so much that I had almost handed the missives off to one of my officers to give to the couriers so I could avoid talking to them, but then I had discarded the idea.  I wanted to see for myself that the couriers had it and were en route and I wanted to give the order myself so there was no confusion of any sort, so I had steeled myself, summoned the messengers, and given my orders in an overly stiff, polite voice that even to my ears had sounded horribly fake.

     Of course, to put the filling in the crostata it was also raining heavily, so any sort of- I wouldn't even say good, but accepting- mood I had ever had had been washed away with the torrent.

     I leaned back in the chair I had placed in the corner of the command tent, massaging my temple as another wave of aching struck.  Gods, I was so tired of this.

     Sighing, I shut my eyes briefly in an attempt to focus my thoughts.  Other than a few more recruits straggling into Helgen, nothing had happened during my rather prolonged absence, for which I was both grateful and worried.  What was Miraak waiting for?  He had more dragons and more soldiers, and while Whiterun would still take a siege to conquer, his chances of winning were fair.  Every day he waited our forces grew in strength as more soldiers arrived and supply wagons rattled into the city in preparation for such a siege, and while his numbers in Helgen and Falkreath grew during this time as well, waiting hurt him more than us.