Nailing the last black shield on Jorrvaskr façade, Kodlak wiped out the sweat on his forehead. He felt it. His body getting old and... Weak. Nonetheless, it was his duty as a Harbinger. Today was a black day after all. When he went down the scales, he saw that more bouquets had been dropped on the last steps of the stairs to Jorrvaskr. He smiled sadly at the sight of them and entered the Mead Hall. The room was empty.
He sighed. He rested his head on the wooden door. The fire was dying in the hearth.
“Why, Shor...”
A tear fell down on his black gloves. He hit the door in rage. “Why did you take him to your Hall?”
His question remained unanswered just like the last time he asked it. It had been a long time since he wore mourner’s clothes. He didn’t miss them.
The Harbinger left the banquet room and headed to his quarters. He listened carefully when he passed near Vilkas’s room, trying to hear any noises coming from it. But there was nothing to hear. A deathly silence had fell upon Jorrvaskr.
Kodlak laid on his bed, his limbs sore and his mind weakened by his insomnia. The old wolf inside has never slept. He closed his eyes, tried to sleep. His thoughts wandered to here and there.
“Someone! Help me! Please!”
He groaned. He didn’t want to remember. He buried his head in his pillow. He didn’t want to remember Vilkas’s scream.
”Vilkas? Gods, what-“
“KODLAK! Help me! Please!”
He turned to a side and to another, closing his eyes as if he tried to shut his own memories. But he couldn’t erase this scene from his mind. The wolf remembered the whole scene perfectly. Vilkas, half naked and covered in blood and rags holding Skjoll. Pale and bruised, the heart nearly muted.
”You have to save him Kodlak!
The Harbinger felt himself crying. Vilkas had cried too. He remembered sending Aela to the Temple of Kynareth. Skjoll’s breathes were but a breeze then instead of the blast Kyne gives to every Nord. It was at this moment that Kodlak knew Skjoll was going to die.
“Please, save him! Don’t let him die! Look there, there’s a healer! You’re going to feel better soon Skjoll! Hold on!”
Foolish hopes of the cub. Danica had made all she could but Skjoll was already walking Sovngarde shores when she entered Jorrvaskr.
”What’s happening?...Skjoll! Answer me Skjoll! Danica-”
“I’m sorry. He... He is dead.”
The howls of the young wolf, mourning. Vilkas had fainted in Farkas’s arms as he had tried to calm him. He was badly injured too, but the adrenaline of the beast-blood had seemed to immunize him to pain. Danica had taken him to his room to heal him. This might be the beginning of the heavy silence that floated upon Jorrvaskr.
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timeasmymeasure
Re: Huge onyx wings behind despair (Until the light takes us/A dream of wolves in the snow) [4/?]
Date: 2014-05-12 10:25 pm (UTC)He sighed. He rested his head on the wooden door. The fire was dying in the hearth.
“Why, Shor...”
A tear fell down on his black gloves. He hit the door in rage.
“Why did you take him to your Hall?”
His question remained unanswered just like the last time he asked it. It had been a long time since he wore mourner’s clothes. He didn’t miss them.
The Harbinger left the banquet room and headed to his quarters. He listened carefully when he passed near Vilkas’s room, trying to hear any noises coming from it. But there was nothing to hear. A deathly silence had fell upon Jorrvaskr.
Kodlak laid on his bed, his limbs sore and his mind weakened by his insomnia. The old wolf inside has never slept. He closed his eyes, tried to sleep. His thoughts wandered to here and there.
“Someone! Help me! Please!”
He groaned. He didn’t want to remember. He buried his head in his pillow. He didn’t want to remember Vilkas’s scream.
”Vilkas? Gods, what-“
“KODLAK! Help me! Please!”
He turned to a side and to another, closing his eyes as if he tried to shut his own memories. But he couldn’t erase this scene from his mind. The wolf remembered the whole scene perfectly. Vilkas, half naked and covered in blood and rags holding Skjoll. Pale and bruised, the heart nearly muted.
”You have to save him Kodlak!
The Harbinger felt himself crying. Vilkas had cried too. He remembered sending Aela to the Temple of Kynareth. Skjoll’s breathes were but a breeze then instead of the blast Kyne gives to every Nord. It was at this moment that Kodlak knew Skjoll was going to die.
“Please, save him! Don’t let him die! Look there, there’s a healer! You’re going to feel better soon Skjoll! Hold on!”
Foolish hopes of the cub. Danica had made all she could but Skjoll was already walking Sovngarde shores when she entered Jorrvaskr.
”What’s happening?...Skjoll! Answer me Skjoll! Danica-”
“I’m sorry. He... He is dead.”
The howls of the young wolf, mourning. Vilkas had fainted in Farkas’s arms as he had tried to calm him. He was badly injured too, but the adrenaline of the beast-blood had seemed to immunize him to pain. Danica had taken him to his room to heal him. This might be the beginning of the heavy silence that floated upon Jorrvaskr.