There followed an awkward pause, as the two of them looked at each other, acknowledging each other's presence for the first time in days and hastily looked away again, both flushing red. Great, that was all Shevawna needed, having Sirrah Afflicted along for the ride, judging and taking exception and constantly picking on her, and if he decided to go for her again, she was actually killing him and leaving his body for the bears and screw honour.
“And me,” Ria and Farkas both said in unison, clearly thinking the same thing and deciding letting Shevawna and Vilkas head off together was a terrible idea.
“Well, if you're all going, I'm not staying behind,” Aela purred, making Shevawna shiver a bit.
“Count me in too,” Athis added. “You need at least one elf proving they're not all evil bastards.”
Kodlak nodded, approving. “Well said, all of you. Skjor, any objections to leading this lot into battle?”
“I was hoping you'd say that,” Skjor laughed. “All right, whelps, get your gear together, we're leaving now.”
“Who are you calling whelp?” Vignar growled, and that got Skjor's attention.
“You're not coming, old man,” Skjor laughed, but his smile faded as he saw the determination on Vignar's face.
“Says who, you need at least one Grey-Mane in the party,” Vignar snapped. “He's my nephew!”
“Vignar, you're sixty seven years old, you'll get yourself killed,” Skjor sighed and Shevawna's eyes widened at the thought of someone not a Hag living that long.
Vignar growled, hand trembling on his swordhilt, but it was Eorlund who spoke up.
“Brother. Let it go. It's not our fight, not any more. And besides, if it's family honour you want satisfying, I have someone who could help.”
“Of course not,” Eorlund sighed. “No, it's my other son, Avulstein. He – he's home. From the war. It was him who brought the news about Thorald. Except now it's not safe for him to leave so he's hiding at our house. But I'm sure he'd like to help.”
“Skjor?” Kodlak asked. Skjor nodded.
“If you can get him here, we can sneak him out of the city. Another blade will be useful and we could do with someone Thorald recognises when we get there.”
No one really wanted to admit why that might be necessary, or what state Thorald would be in when they found him, but Vignar did grunt and shrug, giving in.
“Fine, doubt I'd be much good to you anyway. I've still got a few friends in the guards, wait until after sunset and bring him out then, I'll make sure no one's looking.”
Everyone dispersed to make their preparations, but before Shevawna could go assemble her things, Eorlund stopped her.
“Lass,” he said quietly. Shevawna turned, feeling a little awkward but it seemed so did he.
“Thank you,” Eorlund said, staring at his feet. “For finding it. I don't know how you did it, but the truth will help Fralia and for that, I will always be grateful. Here.” He unhooked the axe from his side and handed it over. Skyforge steel and gleaming with a fire enchantment.
“I forged it for Thorald for when he returned,” Eorlund said quietly. “But I don't know what you'll find there or if he'll ever be in any shape to hold a blade again. I haven't the coin to pay you, but this is yours. If you want it.”
Did she want it. Did she want it?? Of course she wanted it.
“Thank you,” Shevawna whispered, Eorlund no longer being a Nord in her eyes in that instant. “I mean, I... I'll find your son, don't worry. We'll bring him home and we'll show those Thalmor!”
She'd been swept up in a full Nordic bear hug before she knew it. Eorlund held on to her for a few seconds before letting her go, wiping tears from his eye.
“I should go and tell Fralia,” Eorlund said quickly, making a hasty exit, leaving one confused Forsworn scratching her head and wondering how in the world she'd managed to make a grown man cry.
Re: Blood (Magic)'s Honour 4.6
“And me,” Ria and Farkas both said in unison, clearly thinking the same thing and deciding letting Shevawna and Vilkas head off together was a terrible idea.
“Well, if you're all going, I'm not staying behind,” Aela purred, making Shevawna shiver a bit.
“Count me in too,” Athis added. “You need at least one elf proving they're not all evil bastards.”
Kodlak nodded, approving. “Well said, all of you. Skjor, any objections to leading this lot into battle?”
“I was hoping you'd say that,” Skjor laughed. “All right, whelps, get your gear together, we're leaving now.”
“Who are you calling whelp?” Vignar growled, and that got Skjor's attention.
“You're not coming, old man,” Skjor laughed, but his smile faded as he saw the determination on Vignar's face.
“Says who, you need at least one Grey-Mane in the party,” Vignar snapped. “He's my nephew!”
“Vignar, you're sixty seven years old, you'll get yourself killed,” Skjor sighed and Shevawna's eyes widened at the thought of someone not a Hag living that long.
Vignar growled, hand trembling on his swordhilt, but it was Eorlund who spoke up.
“Brother. Let it go. It's not our fight, not any more. And besides, if it's family honour you want satisfying, I have someone who could help.”
“You're sending Olfina??” Vignar said, disbelieving.
“Of course not,” Eorlund sighed. “No, it's my other son, Avulstein. He – he's home. From the war. It was him who brought the news about Thorald. Except now it's not safe for him to leave so he's hiding at our house. But I'm sure he'd like to help.”
“Skjor?” Kodlak asked. Skjor nodded.
“If you can get him here, we can sneak him out of the city. Another blade will be useful and we could do with someone Thorald recognises when we get there.”
No one really wanted to admit why that might be necessary, or what state Thorald would be in when they found him, but Vignar did grunt and shrug, giving in.
“Fine, doubt I'd be much good to you anyway. I've still got a few friends in the guards, wait until after sunset and bring him out then, I'll make sure no one's looking.”
Everyone dispersed to make their preparations, but before Shevawna could go assemble her things, Eorlund stopped her.
“Lass,” he said quietly. Shevawna turned, feeling a little awkward but it seemed so did he.
“Thank you,” Eorlund said, staring at his feet. “For finding it. I don't know how you did it, but the truth will help Fralia and for that, I will always be grateful. Here.” He unhooked the axe from his side and handed it over. Skyforge steel and gleaming with a fire enchantment.
“I forged it for Thorald for when he returned,” Eorlund said quietly. “But I don't know what you'll find there or if he'll ever be in any shape to hold a blade again. I haven't the coin to pay you, but this is yours. If you want it.”
Did she want it. Did she want it?? Of course she wanted it.
“Thank you,” Shevawna whispered, Eorlund no longer being a Nord in her eyes in that instant. “I mean, I... I'll find your son, don't worry. We'll bring him home and we'll show those Thalmor!”
She'd been swept up in a full Nordic bear hug before she knew it. Eorlund held on to her for a few seconds before letting her go, wiping tears from his eye.
“I should go and tell Fralia,” Eorlund said quickly, making a hasty exit, leaving one confused Forsworn scratching her head and wondering how in the world she'd managed to make a grown man cry.