Aug 18 (Day 7)- Companion/Fallen
Braith was a bully, until Besharat took her under her wing and gave her a better purpose. She taught her to be a true Yokudan warrior in the ancient ways only newly rediscovered. Story based on a surprising letter Besharat received in-game, but reimagined as happening a number of years post-game. Prompts by @tes-summer-fest
Warnings- violence, blood
Wordcount- ~1700
***
Braith came into the training yard for our lesson, her face red and puffy. Her knuckles were white around the scabbard of her father's sword and her expression was like stone. I was going to ask her what had happened but she spoke before I could.
"Ansei Besharat, my father has journeyed to the Far Shores." Her voice held no emotion, though her hands tightened even more on the scabbard.
"May he be welcomed by the Ancestors," I said automatically, before adding, "Do you know what happened?"
"He went out on a job. An upstart, would-be warlord, his brothers-in-arms told me. Of the ten that went out, only four returned. They did not bring my father's body back. They only brought his sword. Ansei, may I ask something?"
"Of course."
"I am honor bound to recover my father's body and armor. I formally request to undertake my Warrior's Trial and begin my Walkabout. Let me prove myself and take my place among you."
"Braith…" I began.
But she cut me off. "I must do this, Ansei! If I don't, then everything I've learned from you is for nothing! I must see my father laid properly to rest, and my honor demands justice for his death. You have shown me what it means to be Yokudan, and I will do no less than our ancestors!"
"Of course. Then I will accompany you. By the traditions of the Companions, an observer from the Circle joins those on their Trial. And, as Ansei, I am honor bound to accompany you as my student, even if not for much longer."
"Thank you, Ansei." Her voice wavered.
“Allow me to inform everyone else that we will be leaving, and then we will gather our supplies and go. Do you know where this warlord is?”
“He is at Fort Fellhammer. I was told he has a number of men at his disposal. I do not care for them. I only want him, and my father.”
We went into the Hall. Thankfully, Vilkas was sitting in his spot by the fire with Orielle, chatting. But they both stopped when they saw us approach.
“I'm glad you're both here. I'm leaving for a little while. Braith is going on her Trial and I will be going with her.” I said bluntly. "Can you tell Farkas when he gets back? We're leaving right away."
“Oh?” Vilkas studied us before asking, “Something has happened, hasn't it?”
Braith replied before I could. “My father has fallen. I must avenge him, and recover his body.”
“Mara’s mercy! I'm so sorry, my dear!” Orielle cried, jumping to her feet. They hugged for a long moment before Orielle put her hand on Braith’s shoulder. “That is a heavy burden for anyone of fifteen. But you are a trained Yokudan warrior and I know you will prove that when the time comes.”
“Thank you.”
***
“How do you wish to approach this?” I asked as we surveyed the fort. We'd spoken of different scenarios on our way up north, but hadn't made any firm decisions.
“My quarrel is with the leader, and Nords respect courage. I will challenge him in front of his men so he can't refuse.”
I held my tongue, my instincts as a parent and teacher ready to object. But I couldn’t. This was Braith’s Trial, not only as part of the Companions but also her Walkabout as a Sword-Singer. And especially for the latter it was important for her to take the lead. So I nodded, only saying, “They may underestimate you. Do not let them make you angry.”
Her smile was all teeth. “I hope they do. It will be all the sweeter when my sword takes them, then.”
We marched up to the gate. The two guards on duty looked askance at us. “What’s a couple of Redguards want here? You girls lost?”
Braith replied, all full of sweetness. “I have an important message for Galar War-Axe. I need to speak with him.”
“And why would anyone send you with a message?”
“To not raise suspicion?” she replied smoothly. “Who’s going to suspect little old me?”
The one guard sighed. “Fine. But no funny stuff. Just get going.”
No one gave us a second look as we made our way through the halls, only pointing us in the right direction when Braith asked. It wasn’t long before we reached the central room. It was a receiving room, for whatever lord or general had overseen this place. Now, it was decorated with animals pelts and weapons and armor, no doubt taken from people killed by this rabble. I picked out Amren’s armor among those displayed, and by how she gripped the hilt of her sword, I knew Braith saw it, too.
Galar sat on a chair in the center of the room like a throne, watching us enter. He was big and blond and boisterous, but something about him was like a coiled serpent. His men watched, too. But we were also assessing the situation, and the tension turned very thick very quickly.
“Who’re you two?” Galar demanded.
“My name is Braith at-Amren. I have come to challenge you for the body and armor of my father, who you slew.” She took a step forward, her face again that blank, stone stare.
Galar laughed. “Are you for real, little girl? How about you and your mum here get out of here and quit wasting my time. I don’t like having my time wasted.”
“I assure you, I am not here to waste your time. I challenge you, by the old laws, for my honor and as wergild for the death of my father. Refuse me and been seen as a coward in the eyes of your men.”
That got their attention. Galar stood, he was shorter than I expected but nearly as broad as Farkas. He sighed through his nose, annoyance plain on his face. “Fine then, little girl. Then let us have a proper duel if you insist.”
His men stepped back, forming a circle to either side of me. Only Braith and Galar stood in the center. My heart pounded, but I maintained a calm exterior. I didn’t like this at all. Better that we’d simply stormed the place and fought together. But it was too late for that.
They circled each other warily. I appraised Galar. He moved with experienced ease, his big axe easy in his hands. He would have reach with it, but Braith had done a lot of training against axes with Farkas, and this one was not as fast or fine as Wuuthrad. Still, Galar would be no easy opponent.
He attacked first, but Braith was ready. They danced for a long time, or at least, what felt like a long time. I could see Galar begin to get annoyed. Braith was quicker than he’d anticipated.
But he was experienced. He swung, and I saw his plan as he moved. The axe sank into Braith’s shield, then with a snarl he twisted it, ripping the shield from her arm. A small gasp passed my lips, but I allowed no other reaction. I couldn’t. Not even when the axe swung again and Braith rolled, the blade missing her by only a hair. The rest of the men were absolutely silent, fixated on the fight.
Galar shoved Braith with the handle of his axe, sending her rolling again. But when she regained her feet she lifted her left hand, and a quick, powerful melody rushed from her lips.
“Singing won’t help ya, girlie,” Galar scoffed. But that scoffed soon turned to surprise as a blade of white light appeared in her hand. She rushed forward, ducking under his swing. He grabbed the sword in her right hand with his bare fingers, unbalancing her. But in response, I saw something impossible; she swung her shehai and I followed it, but it struck at an impossible angle. Like it had suddenly changed course on its own to bypass even the Best Known Cuts, as if the blade itself could see the opening to strike. And strike it did, right through his throat. Galar gargled, dropping his axe as the shehai ripped back out. He fell to the ground, and very soon it was over.
The men around me stared, and began to whisper. Braith turned in a slow circle, meeting the eyes of each one. “I am Braith at-Amren. I am a Sword Singer, an Ansei. I have won the right to claim my payment. I will take the armor and body of my father, and I have taken wergild for his death. I have no quarrel with any of you, and if you allow me to take what is mine, then I will leave with no further bloodshed. If you wish to fight, then my teacher and I will destroy you all. For we are both Ansei, and she is the Dragonborn. I leave the choice up to you.”
They all looked at her, and then they looked at me, and as one they backed up. One spoke for them. “We wish no further fight. Take your father’s armor and whatever else you require, young warrior, and then we will show you where the bodies of the dead are thrown.”
***
About an hour later, we were back on the road to Whiterun. Amren’s armor and that of his companions were loaded onto my horse, while his wrapped body, frozen by a quick frost spell and covered with a lesser ward to keep it safe, rode on the back of Braith’s.
She rode straight, shoulders squared. But she smiled at me. “I did it, Ansei.”
“You did, and we will formally welcome you into the Companions when we return to Whiterun.”
“Is there anything more I must do to be declared Ansei?”
“No. You have declared it yourself. You have defeated your enemy with both your shehai and the Ephemeral Feint. We will give offerings to the gods and you may declare it again if you wish, but that title is already yours.”
“Thank you, Ansei.”
I laughed. “Just Besharat now! You’re Ansei, too! And I am beyond proud of you, Braith at-Amren.”
“Of course, Besharat. And thank you.”