Chapter Text
Vivienne slumps into the chair next to Lucien. Her hands fall to her sides as she leans back, eyes closed. Her head aches as if the troll had hit her instead of her Imperial friend. Not only that, but her magicka reserves are low. Lower than she had anticipated.
A small hum in front of her makes her open her eyes again. Red compassion meets her eyes, and the tall warrior extends a hand with a small vial. Vivienne grimaces and downs the azure liquid. Immediately, her body refreshes. Like warm mead, the potion rushes through her veins, pleasantly tingling as it works.
"Thank you, Kaidan." Vivienne's voice is strained.
"Can't be your shield if I won't shield you from yourself, as well, can I?" Kaidan crosses his arms in front of his chest. "When do you think he will wake up?" His red eyes focus on the unconscious male next to them.
Vivienne follows his eyes and scans the Imperial for movement. There's nothing, except the small rise and fall of his chest, that indicates that he's still alive. He was lucky. The sharp edge of the stone that did most of the damage missed his spinal cord by just a few inches. A tick further right, and he might've never walked again.
"If we're lucky, and he doesn't catch any further infections, he might wake up tomorrow." Vivienne's brows tighten. "Nonetheless, it'll take a week at least before we can continue our journey."
"Well, thankfully, he's in very good care." Kaidan offers a small smile of encouragement, but Vivienne can't find the will to smile back. Guilt eats her alive. If only Lucien had stayed behind, if only she had refused his offer of accompanying them. She doesn't want to be the reason someone's brother is dead, someone's son.
A knock sounds, and then the door opens. The old man from earlier, Arngeir, appears in the doorway, arms hidden in his big sleeves.
"Dragonborn." His voice is quiet, and yet it booms in the small room. "We're wondering whether you and your companion might join us for dinner."
Vivienne's eyes flit to Lucien. Arngeir follows her focus and nods in understanding. "Do not worry, I will ask Borri to keep watch over the Dragonborn's friend."
"Then, we will gladly accept the invitation." Arngeir nods and bows shortly. "Very well, I will leave you to freshen up." One short glance over her bloodied armor and hands, and the gray-bearded man turns. His steps echo in the stone hallway.
Kaidan leaves her as well, and finally, Vivienne gets to step out of her armor. Quickly, she dresses in her linen travel dress and nervously smooths over the wrinkles. There's a wash basin in the corner of the room, which she uses to scrub her fingers clean. Dried blood is embedded beneath her nails. She uses a small brush to scrub until her skin is raw, before braiding her hair anew.
Shortly after, Borri knocks, and after explaining to him that he is to alert her immediately should something happen, Vivienne hurries down the stone hallway herself.
High Hrothgar is big, especially so considering the sparse inhabitants. As far as she knows, there are only four members of the Greybeards with Arngeir acting as their leader. Her steps echo through the hallway, bouncing off the walls.
The dining hall is a small room with an oval table. A hearth spreads warmth through the stone floor.
Vivienne slips next to Kaidan, fingers nervously wringing in her dress. The swordsman is already eating, a tall figure still clad in his usual steel armor. Vivienne can't help but cling to the familiarity of his presence.
"Dragonborn." Arngeir greets her with a small smile. "It feels good to finally greet you in the formal way. Please, help yourself."
His arm gestures to the food on the table, and Vivienne nods in thanks. The meal is sparse, some stew with bread and pottage, but there are decanters filled with a warm, golden liquid that is almost as nourishing as the food itself.
While eating, Arngeir speaks to her.
"Tell me, Dragonborn, why have you come here?" His voice sounds a little amused as if the question is rhetorical, but his gray eyes wait for her answer nonetheless.
Vivienne swallows before considering her answer. "I want to know what it means to be Dragonborn. It has been a great burden to carry. I want to know how to wield it."
"Very well, we are here to guide you in that pursuit, just as the Greybeards of old have done for thousands of years. It has been the task thrust upon us to aid those of the blood of the dragon." Arngeir sits back.
"You mean there are others?" Vivienne lets her spoon sink to her plate. "I thought I was the only one." A treacherous hope spreads through her heart at the idea of companionship.
"What I mean is, you are not the first. There have been many of Dragon Blood since Akatosh first bestowed that gift upon mortal kind. Whether you are the only one of this age? I'm afraid I can not answer that. You are the only one that has been revealed so far; that is all I can say."
Vivienne's spoon is still motionless. Resigned, she begins to eat again. Of course not.
"You have shown your gift, and it seems you're eager to learn. Even without the proper training, your voice has already materialized into a shout, a Thu'um. Tomorrow, we will see whether you have the discipline and temperament needed for the path in front of you." Arngeir takes a sip out of his cup, while his companions, Einarth and Wulfgaar, she believes, bow and take their leave.
"Do you have any questions, Dragonborn?" Arngeir raises a brow.
Vivienne finishes the last spoon of stew. "A few. What happens to my companions while I train with you? "
"Your companions are welcome to stay here while you train, if they like. There isn't much to do, but we take pride in our extensive book collection.
"Thank you, Arngeir." Vivienne manages a small smile. "What happens when I finish my training? And how much time, do you think it'll take?"
"Time is individual. I will refrain from judging yours when it comes to learning. It could take two weeks, or up to months, that is to be seen. After you are finished, Dragonborn, you can do whatever you like. The Greybeards do not have the responsibility or power to control what you do with the gift you have been given. We only hope to teach you to use it wisely."
"I see. Thank you, Arngeir." Vivienne watches as the old man stands and bows. Then he's gone, and they're alone.
Silence stretches over the pair for a few seconds.
"I wanted to-" "Vivienne, ..." They both start speaking at the same time, both chuckle quietly.
"You go first.", Kaidan leans back.
"I've been meaning to talk to you." Vivienne turns to face her tall companions. "It's been a while since we started traveling with one another, but Lucien's injury made me realize a lot of things. I'm terribly afraid to lose him, Kaidan, and that applies to you, too." Warmth coats her cheeks.
"You're both bound to me, and that makes me responsible for your well-being. Almost losing Lucien that way made me realize that I do not want that. I know you feel like you have to be my shield, but that oath has long been paid."
"So, you're dismissing me?" Kaidan asks, and Vivienne cringes visibly.
"I do not want you to get hurt on my behalf, Kaidan. There will be a time when I won't be able to heal you, no matter how hard I try." Frustration seeps into her voice.
"You asked to be my shield back when I was a mere student trying to reach the Winterhold College. Now, I am dragonborn. It's not what you signed up for, and it'd be unfair of me to keep you bound to me when it endangers you so much." Vivienne sighs deeply.
"I do not want to lose you, but I can not keep fighting my conscience on that matter."
Kaidan is silent for a long time. Vivienne refrains from looking at his face, rather hiding by staring at her hands, fidgeting with the fabric of her dress.
"I've been meaning to speak to you as well. About my oath." He takes a second to think, and Vivienne feels her treacherous heart beating in her chest. "It's been a long while since I met someone I could trust this much, and since my oath has long been paid, as you said... Well, I've been wondering whether you'll allow me to accompany you as a friend, not as a sellsword."
Worry flickers in Vivienne's eyes. Kaidan catches the small glimmer and keeps talking, as if to prove a point. "This way, you carry no responsibility whatsoever. It's my decision whether I follow you or not."
Vivienne lifts her eyes to look at his. Honesty pools in the red irises. Relief washes over her ribs like warm water. She'd wished for him to agree to her plan, to leave, but deep down, she is glad he hasn't. A comforted smile stretches over her face, and she moves to take hold of his hand.
"Friends, yes. It still worries me, but I can not deny that it would make me very happy." Something in Kaidan's eyes freezes at the skin contact, but Vivienne is too distracted by the warm feeling of gratefulness pooling in her chest. "But no more endangering yourself because of me. Your oath is paid."
She lets go of his hand, and Kaidan leans back.
"Can't promise anything, Dragonborn." He teases, and Vivienne groans. "Not you, too. Vivienne, please. Not Dragonborn. I do not like this new feeling of being important."
Both of them chuckle at that, and a warm calmness washes over Vivienne. She'd been sure that Kaidan would be on his way back to Ivarstead after their conversation, but he is still here, and she is so very grateful. Being with him feels like she can do anything, no matter how taxing.
"I will look after Lucien. Did they show you a room?" Vivienne rises from her chair and smooths over the wrinkles of her dress.
"Yeah, it's right next to yours. Knock if you need something."
Vivienne wishes him a good night before departing for Lucien's room, warmth still bubbling in her chest. A smile is plastered on her lips as she wills her heart to stop beating as loudly. Idiot, she thinks, but the warmth doesn't leave her, not even as she sees Lucien's pale face again.
Someone has stocked the fire again, and Vivienne uses the warmth to make a herbal steam. She watches as the small rivulets of evaporated water swirl through the room.
Then, she eases her tired body into the chair next to Lucien's bed and grabs a book from the small table. 'Lost Legends', it reads, with a pretty emerald cover. She makes herself comfortable with a small sigh. It'd be a long night.