Chapter 42 Epilogue
The cold was biting, and Vilkas found himself pulling his cloak tighter around his body as he and his brother stood alone in front of the newly erected statue in the middle of the Market Square.
It was a beautifully sculpted rendering of the Last Dragonborn, wearing her ebony armours, her mighty two handed sword in hand, in the middle of a powerful full fledged swing, encircle with Alduin’s wings, his mouth huge and open. He was poised to strike down at the sword wielding woman in front of him. The entire monument, except for Alduin’s eyes, which were huge rubies, was white marble and had cost Balgruuf a small fortune to commission.
The sky was clear, and despite its cloudless state, and the shining sun, there was not a soul at the statue. The Market Square in Whiterun was quite bereft, save for the twins.
Farkas was sobbing quite openly, his big palms were clutching the stone woman’s shoulders and he was shaking his head. Vilkas felt the same agony as his brother, but refrained from showing his emotions. He never had, and regretted that she had never known, would never know.
It was true that they had both fallen in love with the Last Dragonborn and would have followed her to the ends of Nirn if she had but asked. They had quarreled but once in the past for her affections and realized rather quickly that neither was willing to part with her, and though the idea of sharing had been forced upon them, they had been fine with it.
After all, they were twins. And she had always been a handful…
He felt his eyes tear up, but he blinked them away and reached a comforting hand to his sibling’s stiff shoulder.
“Come. We have work to do,” Vilkas spoke huskily, his voice soft.
Farkas sniffled and his hands tightened on the marble before he pulled back and raised his water filled eyes to the face he had loved so dearly. They had designed it so that she was snarling at the dragon. Her beautiful face twisted by rage.
It bothered him that they would not be able to retrieve her body. They had no idea where she had died. Where the final battle took place. They would never know if she had suffered, or if she’d survived but died to the elements, too wounded to continue. Farkas blocked out his depressing thoughts, wishing for the millionth time that he could have taken her place. He would have died for her. Vilkas too.
He would never see her again. Never hear her laugh. Never be able to tell her that he loved her, and he never had. He would miss her. His soul would miss her. He took a deep breath and placed a callused palm onto his brother’s hand and squeezed it back.
Vilkas didn’t show his emotions like he did, but Farkas knew. His brother had loved her just as much as he had. He was mourning her in his own way, and could hide his feelings from the rest of Jorrvaskr, but Farkas heard. Vilkas could not muffle the sounds of his pain at night. When he slept, and dreamt of her. Not any more than Farkas could.
He took a deep breath and finally tore his eyes from the face that would haunt him for many years to come. His eyes raised to the skies, and he frowned as he spotted something in the distance.
He wasn’t sure what it was, but it looked like dragons. They were too far away though to be dragons. After all, dragons had stopped their attacks, and almost all had reverted to being peaceful once Alduin had been defeated, and defeated he had been.
He squinted and peered at the flying pair and his eyes widened as he realized it was a couple of dragons. A pure black one, and a pure white one. They were flying in circles together and Farkas watched them until they vanished from sight.
His heart felt lighter, and a small smile pulled at his lips. He turned on his heels and followed after his brother. Wiping his tears with the back of his hand. Life would continue in Skyrim.
Skyrim was free.