It was a hard chapter to write. Division is uncommon with these characters and it certainly was a frustrating thing for Kyne to have done. Acadian, you hit the nail on the head when it comes to how they stood up for her. It did not go unnoticed.

Grits, had Kyne not jumped the gun, that would have been the natural way for things to unfold. It was only a matter of time until Cain encouraged Gwyn to share that with Serana. The big difference though is it probably would have stayed between those two. And probably Linneá.

--------------------------

Chapter VIII – Chrysalis

The mood inside Elysium Estate was one of deep melancholy. Fresh pots of coffee and tea were brewed in lieu of the spirits Cain and his family had been enjoying earlier in the day. Very little conversation occurred. Those still present dwelt mostly in silence, ruminating on what had been unfairly and prematurely revealed to them at the ill-advised behest of their guiding hand. Serana and Gwyndala disappeared into the basement going on three hours prior, and no one, not even Linneá, knew how things were going.

“I can take you home if you have work to do, dad,” offered Linneá. “I don’t know how long they’ll be down there for and I’m not going to intrude – physically or otherwise.”

“There’s always work to do,” sighed Kirin. “But no, it can wait. Some things are more important, and I want to be here if Gwyn needs anything.”

“I think she’d appreciate that,” said Linneá. “I am going to step out for a minute, though. No reason Salihn can’t be here to lighten the mood. Be back soon.”

Her chair emptied at the cast of a spell leaving Cain alone with his parents. They sipped gently from mugs of piping hot liquids in a wordless setting, until Lydia aimed a question at Cain that was on her mind.

“Sweetie, if you don’t mind me asking… what prompted Gwyn to bare her soul to you before the rest of us met her? She’s so guarded that I’m surprised anyone could get such terrible memories out of her. Gwyn really cares for you, doesn’t she?”

“She does,” said Cain. “Just as I care for her.” Cain then recalled to Lydia the events leading up to that development in their relationship. He made sure to emphasize how it was a turning point in the rocky partnership they had forged up until that point, and how it didn’t take long after for them to become close friends.

“Poor dear. I’m glad you were able to stop that from happening to her again. Small wonder she can be so withdrawn. I still can’t believe her own mother would be capable of such evil – there truly are some reprehensible monsters out there.”

“Gwyn isn’t always so anxious, mum. Obviously, her past has greatly affected the person she’s become, but her unease among strangers comes more from living alone for so long. Once she comes around, I think you’ll find Gwyn’s a lot of fun. All the attitude with none of the inhibition.”

“I caught a taste of that on our walk,” grinned Lydia. “I think she’d already been feeling a little at ease.”

The walk. By all accounts, it sounded like it had been going delightfully. Cain sat there still unable to fathom what their goddess had been thinking. Kyne usually went about that sort of thing with much more grace and tact. She never pried and she had always valued their independence. What was different about Gwyn?

The turmoil must have been evident on his face, because Kirin voiced the same thoughts aloud. “I don’t get it either, son. And I don’t think there’s anything for it but to ask her.”

“Agreed.” Cain raised his eyes to the ceiling and imagined he was speaking into the heavens, rather than the rafters. “We need to talk, Kyne.”

-----

It was warm and quiet in the basement of the Windborne family home. A bearskin rug spanned the cobbled floor of a small sitting area at the foot of the stairs. A small stepladder rose up to a hatch leading to the grassy yard near the outdoor forge. Books and strange artifacts adorned corner shelves but they were completely ignored by the two women sitting on the floor across from one another.

Gwyndala Louvain sat on the rug with her knees up and she cradled them in her arms, forehead pressed firmly against them. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying and the makeup she had carefully applied that morning ran down her face in long streaks.

Gwyn couldn’t speak, so Serana spoke instead. She spoke of her youth that had been lost to the annals of time. Of her mother and father and the royal vampire court she had grown up in. She spoke of the dreams; the aspirations; the desires that her younger self had once possessed. And she spoke of how they were all snuffed out by the deal her parents made with the devil.

Serana Windborne revealed to Gwyn something she had not known. Something she never would have suspected: that the once upon a time vampire sitting in front of her had been anything but a simple stalker of the night. She had been a Daughter of Coldharbour. The downtrodden woman opposite Serana read enough books in her days to know exactly what that meant. The horror that lurked behind that statement. The agony Cain’s sister went through when she barely passed into adulthood.

It was the only thing that could’ve reached her, and reach her it did. Gwyn relaxed her posture and lowered her knees. She wiped her eyes dry with a kerchief and readjusted herself until she sat cross-legged, staring at Serana. “I… I never would have guessed that about you, Serana. You’re so much more, I dunno, together, I guess, than I am. What you must have gone through back then...” Gwyn shuddered. “How do you come back from something like that? How do we come back?”

“We don’t,” said Serana, bluntly. “And that’s a reality I struggled with for untold years. It’ll always be a part of us. Something that makes us who we are. The trick is to not let it define who we are.”

“Does it ever catch back up to you?”

“Sometimes, yes. I still have nightmares despite being cured for over six years now.”

“Me too,” nodded Gwyn. “The nightmares, I mean. I’m sure Cain has seen me in the throes of them, but he’s never said a word about it. Probably thought I’d bite his head off.”

“Would you have?” Serana tried for a crooked smile after her question and was heartened to see a mischievous one in return.

“Maybe. I can also tell how much it pains him that he can’t help more.”

Serana took a moment to consider that last statement. She knew that there was in fact a way for Cain to offer a considerable amount of comfort for Gwyn, but getting there now would be rocky. Kyne had upset the natural order for something other than the bounds of privacy. Serana hoped against hope that it wouldn’t sway the Breton against the future possibility.

She also hoped that the topic could be avoided for the time being, so she tried to steer the conversation elsewhere. “So, you mentioned the trauma affected your magic?” asked Serana. “In what way? Is that why some of your spells emanate a crimson light?”

Gwyn’s eyes narrowed. She wasn’t having it. “Yes, it did. And why the sudden change of subject? I know you have more to say on the matter – any idiot could tell that you’re holding back. What is it that you are trying to avoid talking to me about right now?”

[censored]. Nothing else for it, I guess. Serana tugged nervously at a loose lock of hair. She had to be careful here. Some wounds were still fresh. “Um. It’s just that, well, there is a way for my brother to help you. But it’s not a step to be taken lightly and certain, er, recent events might make the idea a little off-putting.”

“Spit it out. I’ve had enough bullshit for one day.”

“Okay,” sighed Serana. “So, like I said before, we don’t really ever come back from it. It weighed on me every day of my life until one day it was shoved aside: the day that Elle permanently linked our minds.” Gwyn opened her mouth to object, just as Serana knew she would. “Hold on, just let me finish.” A resigned slump of the shoulders spurred her on. “What Kyne did today is not to be taken lightly, so I understand your reservations. But sharing a mind with Elle, who I love beyond what words can describe… her constant presence is like a warm blanket draped lovingly over my soul. She makes me feel at ease in a way I never thought possible. A contentedness I had lost all hope for. And when the darkness starts to rear its ugly head, we face it down together, and she shares the burden with me.”

Her counterpart lapsed into silence again, staring at the wall behind Serana without actually seeing it. Did Gwyn want that after what Kyne tried to do? Did she want someone – anyone – in her screwed-up head along with her? Gwyn didn’t have any secrets left at this point, but the idea of it still filled her with unease.

“Serana, I…“ she began. “Look, I understand what you’re saying but I don’t think we can have this conversation right now. I’m not ready for that. And I don’t know if Cain will ever be ready for that again. I know exactly how much the silence in his head after his fiancé died [censored] him up. I don’t know if he’ll want to risk that again.”

“That’s fair. I’m not saying you should go upstairs and ask Cain to do it right away, but it is something to consider as your relationship with him progresses. The fact that you’re concerned about his own well-being on the matter is heartening though, Gwyn. It may be that someday you could both benefit from that arrangement.”

“Of course I’m concerned. I owe him so much.”

She smiled at the memories of their time on the Glenumbra Moors flooding back in. Week after week of delving through the mystery of Time Magic while crammed into a tiny cabin. They spent nearly every waking moment together and grew to be inseparable even before Gwyn realized she was falling for Cain. Deep down, a small part of her suspected they had a long future ahead of them. And that a certain Divine would just have to accept Gwyn for the damaged woman she was.

I’m lucky that idiot stumbled into my life, thought Gwyn. And that he’s my idiot.

Gwyn felt a fierce rush of affection welling up inside and recognized after a few seconds that it wasn’t just for Cain. Each and every one of his family members had stood up for her. Linneá, Kirin, and Lydia had all called out their divine matron on her intrusion into Gwyn’s mind, despite the rage and disrespect she had levied towards the goddess.

And Serana had now given her so much more, for Gwyn realized she was no longer alone in her fight.

Standing up to dust herself off, Gwyn offered a helping hand to Serana, who was also getting to her feet. Then she buried herself in the tall Nord’s arms and thanked her profusely. “Thank you, Serana. You didn’t need to dredge up your own past like that. I’m sure it wasn’t easy to revisit alone, but you did it for me anyway.”

“You deserve it, Gwyn. You deserve as much as any of us can give you.”

“In that case,” said Gwyn, wiping away a fresh round of tears from a very different source, “let’s go see what kind of vintages you have.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

“I am. I owe your family thanks, too. And then Cain and I are going to find a nice, quiet place to be alone for a while.”

Serana wetted a kerchief in a nearby basin and helped Gwyn clean up before they ascended the stairs.

-----

What started as lunch looked like it would soon be turning to dinner, for it was now encroaching on early evening and yet the Windborne family still sat arrayed at the dining table of their estate. Linneá had returned with Salihn seconds after Cain decided to summon Kyne, and the little tyke was happily bouncing around the house with her books and toys. However, the mood was much more subdued where the adults remained, save for Gwyn and Serana, who were still sequestered away in the basement.

The words had barely escaped from Cain’s mouth when the great hawk soared in through an open window and took on her human form. She looked surprised, yet grateful at having been summoned so soon.

But Cain did not give her a chance to speak, and immediately rose from his seat to confront the goddess. He looked her directly in the eye and demanded only one thing of her: the singular question on everyone’s mind. “Why? Why did you do it? And I don’t want to hear that it was just because Gwyn wants to live here, because that’s bullshit. That’s trivial. I need to know why you would take such extreme lengths, Kyne. It’s not like you.”

Then Cain caught movement down the hall behind her and resisted the urge to acknowledge Gwyn and Serana’s return. A fleeting glance was all the tiny Breton needed, and she grabbed Serana’s arm to hold her in place so that they could listen to what was about to unfold.

If Kyne had sensed them, she didn’t show it. Her focus was entirely on Cain and she answered his question without pause. “You are right in that it was only a half-truth, my child,” she began. Kyne grabbed Cain’s hands and held them in her own, thankful that he did not try to pull them free. “I’m truly sorry for what I did. I confess that my love for you caused me to act out of worry. Had I kept my head I would simply have asked you about it afterwards. You mean so much to me. You all do. But after what happened to Anska… I cannot bear to see you in pain like that again, and I just had to be sure. I had to know – had to be certain – that your heart would not be broken again. Gwyn’s anger with me is entirely righteous, as is yours, and everyone else’s. All I can do is ask for forgiveness, and pray that it will be granted.”

The hush that fell between them after Kyne finished speaking didn’t last. Rapid footsteps approached her from behind, and she spun on her heel to meet Gwyn’s breathless advance. Kyne very nearly wilted under the polarizing glare levied at her from the one she had wronged. And then she did wilt when Gwyn’s open hand left its imprint on Kyne’s divinely pristine cheek with a resounding crack.

“I’m not forgiving you just yet,” warned Gwyn, her finger raised accusatorially at Kyne. “You’ll need to earn that.” Then her face softened and she relaxed her tense frame while casting a quick burst of healing magic at the goddess to help with Kyne’s reddened face. “I did hear what you said to Cain though and... I understand. We’ll leave it at that for now, yeah?”

Kyne still looked altogether bewildered, but she found herself nodding in silence while processing what the fearless woman standing in front of her had just done. She wasn’t alone - Cain and the rest of his family were almost just as shocked as Kyne was. Almost.

“Well, well, well,” mused Linneá. “I think congratulations are in order, Gwyndala Louvain. This is one of the rare times that mum has been completely at a loss for words!”

Her quip helped to lighten the mood and after Gwyn sought out a hug from Cain, the preparations for dinner were soon underway. To the surprise of everyone, save for the man seated firmly next to her, the Gwyn that dined with the Windborne family was wholly different from the anxious person who had showed up much earlier in the day with Salihn.

She joked and laughed with his sisters. She earnestly engaged with Kirin and Lydia. She even politely conversed with Kyne. And when they had all eaten and drunk their fill, she raised a glassful of brandy above the table.

“I, um,” Gwyn blushed under the influence of her third drink since dinner ended. She steadied her hand and looked around the table at all of them in turn. “I just wanted to say thank you. For sticking up for me earlier. Coming here with Cain, I.. I had no idea where I stood with this family. What you did for me this afternoon meant more than you could possibly know. I’m glad to be here with you. With all of you.” She glanced pointedly at Kyne. “Even you. Maybe,” she added with a wink.

They raised their glasses in kind, and then Gwyn bid them goodnight and whisked Cain away.

-----

The stars shined brightly down on the outdoor spa of Elysium Estate, beaming right through the steam kicked up by the warm waters mingling with the cool autumn air. The Windborne family, and Kyne, departed some time ago, leaving Cain and Gwyn to enjoy a refreshing bath in their new home. Linneá and Kyne were both delighted to have someone living in the empty house again and offered their heartfelt blessing to the couple now lounging in the fragrant waters.

Nighttime rolled on and having waited for what Gwyn decided was entirely too long a time, she straddled her legs across Cain’s lap and leaned in close, playfully nibbling at his neck. His hands held her waist while Gwyn’s soft lips explored his torso.

It wasn’t until he felt her hand inching slowly downwards that he pulled back and cupped her cheek within his hand. “Gwyn, are you sure about this?”
She looked affronted. “What the [censored] do you mean by that?” she demanded. “Do you think I’m someone who would take this sort of thing lightly? Seriously? That’s what you ask me right now?”

“Gwyn, please just listen,” implored Cain. A pregnant pause followed. Then he continued after her curt nod. “I know you aren’t backwards about this sort of thing, it’s just that I’ve never seen you with another man. Whenever you sought the company of others in our early days together, it was always with women.”

“And you think I’m damaged goods with men because of what happened to me,” she finished.

“Er. I wouldn’t have put it like that,” said Cain. “I just need to make sure that you want this. Not that you feel like you have to.”

Gwyn felt the familiar warm glow inside of her that occurred whenever Cain stood up for her. Whenever he protected her. In that moment, she felt content beyond all reason and silently swore that she’d thank every lucky star in existence for delivering this man to her when she had needed him most.

“You’re an idiot, Cain Windborne. But goddamn it if you aren’t my idiot.” She leaned in again and kissed him while her hand sought what it was looking for before he had stopped her. Another moment passed, and this time Gwyn pulled away of her own accord, grinning deviously at him. “Now shut the hell up and [censored] me.”

“There are many idiots, but this one is mine!”
--Gwyndala Louvain

If the previous episode was nailbitingly powerful, this one was as soothing and healing as warm chicken soup.

In Serana, Gwyn has a sister that can understand what the Breton’s been through.

I loved that Serana wants to recommend that Gwyn join minds with Cain but it is too early after Kyne’s intrusion to say so. When forced by Gwyn to spill what she’s thinking, Gwyn is intrigued but agrees with Serana that it is too early yet.

I’m glad also to see that, as you mentioned, it has not escaped Gwyn how every member of this family firmly supported her in the face of Kyne’s lapse in judgement.

Speaking of Kyne, once again we see the Goddess is not perfect, and that is endearing to see. It says much about how well you’ve developed her that when Kyne finally did reveal her motivation, it was exactly as I suspected – a slightly misguided effort to protect her precious family.

I like that Kyne behaves like a true family member, complete with flaws and misunderstandings. Her colossal mistake was in the interest of protecting someone she and Gwyn both love. It is a testament to Gwyn’s spirit that she could admit to Kyne that she understands. Her after-dinner toast was charming and lovely.

What a wonderfully satisfying chapter!

We all have our special idiots! I think it'll be a while yet before the conversation about minds comes up between Cain and Gwyn, mainly for the reason Gwyn highlighted. Abruptly losing that connection to Anska was not good for his psyche. At all. Even more interesting will be the forthcoming talk hinted at in this next chapter.

Making Kyne more connected with them is an element I'm glad I leaned into when I started Seeking Solace. She was motherly in Call of the Wind, but not nearly as involved or close to the Windbornes as she is now. There was nineteen years between those books, so it made sense that Kyne would become closer with them, especially since it was just Lydia and Linneá during that time,

-------------------------------------------------------



Chapter IX – Ghosts in the Storm


The fall air was becoming much too cold for Gwyn’s taste. Winter in High Rock was of course cold and snowy, but it was nothing like what seemed to be coming her away in the mountainous lands of Skyrim. Every morning brought fresh snow flakes and frost-covered flora. The wind bit at her exposed skin until she begged Cain to plan a trip to the city where Gwyn could purchase warmer clothes that weren’t overly revealing. Or full of holes.

Nearly three weeks had turned over while the new couple settled into life at Elysium Estate. It was far nicer than life in her cabin and everything that Gwyn had hoped for when she first dreamed of living there with Cain. Their time was their own, yet they still had plenty to spend with the others, whether it be dinners at the Blue Palace, or nightcaps at home with Linneá and Serana. Even Kyne stopped in every few days to see if they needed anything. Gwyn was still terse when they spoke but Cain had forgiven the goddess at the Breton’s urging. She didn’t want to stand between those he loved.

A blustery Tirdas morning found them walking up the cobbled street of Whiterun’s Plains District bound for the relatively new clothiers that Cain’s sisters had visited with Salihn. The cozy little shop set off the beaten path behind Belethor’s General Goods had a roaring firepit at the center, with racks and shelves of clothing adorning every inch of wall space. Robes, dresses, trousers, shirts, blouses, skirts, loafers, boots, heels – every item of clothing a person could want was somehow tucked into the tiny building.

Cain groaned audibly at the sight of it all and received a playful punch on his shoulder in return. He knew without a doubt that Gwyn would have him here far longer than most men would feel was necessary.

“Oh, quit your bitching,” said Gwyn. “You knew exactly what you signed up for the instant you kissed me for the first time.” She pulled a set of black robes off of a hook and held it up against her diminutive form, sighing when the hems piled up at her feet. “[censored]. Why do I get the feeling that most of these clothes were designed for Nords?

“Because they were, miss,” came a squeaky voice from the backroom. “I’ll be out to help you in just a second!”

Gwyn hung the robe back up and started eyeing the shoes instead while Cain sought unsuccessfully for a place to sit. And maybe take a nap. They were soon joined by a young Bosmer woman who somehow managed to be even shorter than Gwyn. The antlers sprouting from under hair long brown hair added some much-needed height, but Cain figured she topped out at less than five feet tall, sans the antlers.

“Welcome to Gariel’s! I’m Gariel, of course - how can I help you today?”

“Perfect, you’re even tinier than me,” said Gwyn, feeling much better about her prospects. “My name’s Gwyn and I’m new to Skyrim and I need warm clothes that will actually fit me. As you can see,” she gestured vaguely at her tattered and skimpy dress, “I’m ill prepared for the coming winter.”

“Hm. You won’t find anything your size on the racks, Ms. Gwyn. Come in the back with me and I’ll take your measurements. We can talk deposits too, and I can loan you something more functional in the meantime.”

She disappeared along with Gwyn through a small wood door and left Cain standing idly by the fire. Deciding that the shopkeeper probably wouldn’t mind, he took a seat on the small stool near the counter and dwelt on how to approach his meeting tomorrow. His father had finally re-upped his correspondences with High Chancellor Anilay Cato, and Cain would be recalling them to the Imperial City on the following dawn. Which meant that his abundance of free time with the lovely Miss Louvain would be coming to a close soon thereafter. They would soon be on the road to Falkreath Hold.

Gwyn wasn’t too happy about it. They had argued back and forth for most of a day when Cain told her of what Kirin’s intentions for his firstborn were. Funnily enough to Cain, she seemed more put out by the prospect of traveling the holds than she did about the possibility of one day becoming the High Queen. Granted they had only been together for less than a month now, but it was a conversation they were going to need to have by the time this grand tour of the land ended.

He must have been consumed by those thoughts for longer than he realized, for Gwyn had to snap her fingers under his nose sometime later to gather his attention. “Wake up!”

Cain shook his head in surprise and then focused on her. Gwyn had donned a dark fur mantle and a pair of tight-fitting pants that were much better suited for the weather. It was also the only time had seen her in something that didn’t reveal a lot of bare skin. Or her glowing tattoos. He was more disappointed by that than he expected to be.

As if she read his thoughts, Gwyn giggled and then gave him a kiss. “It’s just until Gariel can alter some outfits for me,” she promised. “You’ll be back to ogling me before you know it.”

It was Cain’s turn to grin. “Can you blame me? I’m lucky to have someone so beautiful at my side.”

“Damn right you are. Oh, and I need you to pay an advance for the clothes I picked out. Two-hundred fifty Septims should cover the first ten percent.” She laughed aloud at the sight of his jaw hanging open in protest of the amount owed for her new wardrobe. “Don’t be so dramatic, I know you’ve got the gold for it. And we’re getting lunch when we’re done here. It’s high time you took me out for a proper date.”



It was quiet in the Bannered Mare, save for the clinking of dinnerware and the dull murmur of conversation that generally accompanied an early lunch. Only a few residents of the city were able to get away from their daily business for a quick meal. Ysolda mostly counted on the evening crowd to pay the bills and it hadn’t let her down yet.

This suited Gwyn just fine as she tucked into half a roasted chicken and a glass of chilled tea. Apparently, serving tea this way in Skyrim was something of a novelty that travelers to, and from, other realms brought with them, much to her amusement. Innkeepers and bartenders in High Rock had been brewing tea and infusing it with berries or flower petals in this manner for years. All it took was a short blast of frost magic to chill it, which is something Gwyn very much regretted not being able to do.

She blanched after taking a sip of the now tepid beverage, and set the glass aside. Cain was sipping at a hot coffee and nibbling from a loaf of sweetened bread. He noticed her disappointment over the not-so-iced tea and picked it up, placing it right in front of his mouth.

“Hey!” exclaimed Gwyn. “I’m still drinking that!”

He winked at her, and whispered a single syllable as quietly as he could manage. “Fo.”

A rush of blisteringly cold air escaped his lips, coating the entire glass in a thin layer of ice and lowering the liquid to near freezing. Small bits of ice coalesced and jingled against the side. He handed it back to Gwyn with a smile.

She looked at the frozen glass and then back at Cain. “Okay, you got me there. That’s a damn useful trick.” Her eyes lit up and she bit at the corner of her lip. “What else can that smooth dragon tongue of yours do I wonder?”

“We’ll have plenty of time for that,” said Cain. “Er, just not here. And are you sure we can’t go someplace else? Anvil has some really nice dining rooms. Or even the Imperial City. This, uh, isn’t exactly a romantic first date.”

“I was hungry,” shrugged Gwyn. “And you’ll make it up to me. I know some very nice restaurants in Daggerfall that we can go to some time. But, um, you’ll need some nice clothes. Like, way nicer. Probably nicer than anything you can get in this armpit of a province.”

“Look, you do realize I’m not wealthy by any stretch, right? I can’t just go out and drop thousands of Septims on designer clothes and exotic restaurants.”

“What’s your point? I used to live in a shithole cabin with a dirt floor and my clothes are full of holes. Some that were even made by accident. You’re the future High King and goddamn it you are going to treat me like a queen! I think I’ve earned a shot at a nice life, don’t you?”

Cain stammered and was on the verge of protesting when he noticed the mischievous glint in her eyes. She was teasing him. “Damn it, you were getting me all worked up, Gwyn.”

“Can you blame me?” she laughed. “You’re so cute when you get all flustered.”

The few inn patrons didn’t seem to be paying any attention to the couple seated near the back, so Gwyn joined Cain on his side of the table and sat on his lap. She pressed her lips to his and they were soon kissing in a way that ought to be reserved for the bedroom. Emboldened by the lack of interest from the others seated at the bar, Gwyn decided it was time to be a little more risqué, and began to unbutton her new fur mantle.

She was just about to pull it down around her shoulders when a raspy voice cleared its throat behind her. “Ahem. Sorry to interrupt… but is that you, Cain?”

The Redguard knew that voice. He whispered an apology to Gwyn and looked over her shoulder at the man. “Athis! What brings you to the Mare?”
Gwyn groaned in frustration at the ruined moment and climbed off of Cain to resume sitting in the chair across from him. She shot the dunmer a look of daggers before taking a drink from her still frozen tea. Then she considered dumping it over her head to try and tamp down the lustful mood Athis had just interrupted.

“Who’s your friend, Cain?” she settled for asking her mate.

“Right, where are my manners – Gwyn, this is Athis. Athis, Gwyn. We were shield brothers during my brief stint with the Companions. Athis was at my side the first time I ever set foot in the Blue Palace. Didn’t know at the time though that he was already working for my father.”

Athis was not ignorant of the cross looks he was receiving from Gwyn. He cleared his throat again nervously. “Pleasure to meet you, miss. I won’t take up much more of your time; I just wanted to say hello.” Athis winked at Cain. “Don’t be a stranger at Jorrvaskr while you’re in town, friend. I’d love to catch up with you over a mead.”

“I look forward to it, Athis. We’re living at the estate outside of the city, so I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time. Next time I visit town I’ll make sure to stop by the hall.”

The dunmer clasped Cain’s hand warmly and nodded at Gwyn with a smile. “Nice to have met you, miss Gwyn. He left the inn along with one or two other townsfolk leaving just Cain, Gwyn, Ysolda, and a drunk snoozing in the corner. Having thought the steamy mood long gone, Gwyn started making small talk to hide her disappointment.

“He seems nice,” muttered Gwyn. “I can head home if you want to go – “ She stopped speaking abruptly when Cain stood up, walked around the table, and picked her up bodily.

“To hell with that,” said Cain. “We have unfinished business.” He carried Gwyn upstairs and tossed her into the soft bed overlooking the inn below.



After burning off a light lunch, Cain and Gwyn lounged intimately in the bed for a while and spoke softly of their plans. She still wasn’t enthusiastic about the long journeys around Skyrim that were ahead of them but had vowed to stay by Cain’s side though it all. There was talk of his sisters joining them for the occasional court visit too, which Gwyn eagerly welcomed. She’d grown quite close to Serana especially after they had bonded over past traumas, and the pair were quickly becoming the best of friends.

Unfortunately, there were only three days of relative peace left until the first of said court meetings. Jarl Jon Battle-Born of Whiterun would be the first for Cain to greet and spend a day with. Gwyn was happy they would still be close to home, even if it met the remaining trips were much further away.

“How will we be traveling?” she asked Cain, her thoughts still lingering on the task at hand. “One of those rickety carriages?”

“Most likely, yeah,” said Cain. He reached a free hand up to scratch at the rope binding his other hand to the bedpost. “Can you untie me now?”

“No. I like you just the way you are. Besides, I never said I was done with you.”

They had passed by the carriage near the stables earlier that morning and Gwyn thought a good sneeze might blow it to pieces. The lack of other traveling options in the province astounded Gwyn. No Wayshrines for city to city travel, and from what Cain said there didn’t seem to be any ferrymen on the traversable waterways either. So, it was on foot or by carriage.

“Can we mark something in the cities in case we ever have to return in a hurry?”

“I suppose so,” said Cain. “Linn said it’s not a good idea, though. If you start marking things all over the place for convenience it can get all jumbled in your mind. Makes it hard to focus on any one target if your head is swimming with possibilities.”

“That makes sense,” said Gwyn. “Well, I guess we should head home then. Any visitors tonight?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Good,” said Gwyn. She got up on her knees and freed Cain’s hand and then started getting dressed. “We need to work more on your new Shout and it’ll be easier if we don’t have to entertain anyone.”

Cain began to pull on his own clothes, and after tipping Ysolda heavily, they left the Bannered Mare and headed for the city gates and the road home. Much to Gwyn’s chagrin, a storm had kicked up while they were sequestered inside the warm tavern and the heavy gales were blowing a sleety mix across the open tundra. Even with her warmer clothing, it was almost too much for Gwyn. Ten minutes into their walk home, Cain pulled her in close and was about to cast the recall spell when a strange creature dove at them from the snow-laden winds with a guttural snarl.

Neatly side-stepping the beast, Cain drew his sword while scarlet magick danced in Gwyn’s palms. The gray-skinned something scrambled to its feet and snarled at them again. Light footfalls in the snowy earth behind them announced the arrival of more of the odd enemies but their numbers were too few against the Dragonborn and the deadly mage. Three of them fell to Cain’s sword strikes while the remaining two had their flesh torn asunder.
Sword slung back over his shoulders where it belonged, Cain knelt by one of the creatures to examine it. The short height and slouching composure reminded him of goblins, but they gray skin was foreign to him.

“What are they?” asked Gwyn.

“I’m not sure,” said Cain. “Look at the eyes – I think these things are blind. And the ears are much larger than goblin ears. I bet they could hear a whisper on a mountain.”

“Should we just leave them here on the road?”

“No, I want to find out what we’re dealing with.” Cain closed his eyes and said a quick prayer to his goddess. “Kyne will be here soon. She’ll know what they are. Want me to take you home real quick?”

Gwyn’s teeth were chattering and she rubbed her shoulders in a futile attempt at warming herself up. “I’m not leaving you until I know there aren’t more around,” she said.

Cain smiled and pulled her in close until Kyne arrived. Thankfully, it only took a few minutes for the hawk to flutter down and land gracefully on her feet in front of them.

“What is it dearies?” She frowned at the sight of Gwyn shivering in the cold and held out her hand to the Breton. “May I?”

Unsure of that meant, Gwyn hesitated for a moment before meeting the hand with her own. A feeling of uplifting warmth rushed into her and dispelled the cold entirely. Her teeth stopped shaking and her hands ceased tingling and she began to sweat in Cain’s embrace. Gwyn stepped away from him and awkwardly thanked Kyne.

“Think nothing of it,” said Kyne. “Now, what can I do for you two? Your prayer sounded urgent, Cain, yet we’re not far from the estate…”

“Look behind you.”

Kyne spun around and spotted the three beasts felled by Cain’s hand. And she also noticed the grisly bits of flesh and bone spread over the snowy grass, which caused her some consternation. Glancing back at Gwyn, the small woman nodded at her unasked question. This was the first time anyone in Cain’s family had witnessed the results of Gwyn’s corrupted magick, but Kyne decided it wasn’t the time to speak about it.

“Hm. It’s odd for falmer to be so far out into the open,” said Kyne, turning her attention to the intact corpse instead.

“Falmer?” asked Cain. “’Mer’ as in – “

“Elf,” Kyne finished. “These poor beings were once the mighty race of Snow Elves that called Skyrim home. They’ve devolved into these goblin-like creatures and they live deep underground in caves or old Dwemer cities.”

“Oh, I’ve read about the Snow Elves,” said Gwyn. “But the book I had didn’t mention that this is what they’ve become.”

“Very few people have made the connection.”

“You said it’s odd for them to be out here?” said Cain. “Should we be concerned?”

“If it were just one, I would say no. But this is a pack. Something feels different about this. I think we need to let Kirin and the others know.”

“Damn it,” muttered Gwyn. “There goes our evening.”

Good luck finding clothes for Gwyn in a Nordic shoppe. Well, good luck it is! The proprietor is a Bosmer! Gwyn is right; if she and Prince Cain are going on an official tour of the holds, they need some appropriately stylish (and warm) clothes.

Good to know that Kirin is back in communication with Anilay.

A nice lunch and even better desert!

Falmer came to mind after the pair’s encounter on the road, even before Kyne confirmed it. Like Kyne, I can’t imagine what would bring them out on the roads to attack travelers.

It was fortunate indeed that Gariel turned out to be a Bosmer! Still, even if the clothes fit I'm not sure she'll be pleased with the departure from her standard wardrobe. Methinks she will be cooking up other ways to keep warm.

Things are definitely heating up!

----------------------------------------

Chapter X – Growing Pains

Kirin Windborne had a headache. Not a headache born of illness or any other malady. Nor was it a headache caused by injury or inebriation. This particular headache took the form of a familiar farmer who had returned for another round, with another bag of rotting tubers in hand. The unfriendly odors of rot and decay charged the normally fragrant air of the High King’s throne room with that of reek. A reek that offered only a single minute silver lining. It had chased away the few remaining petitioners that were waiting in line for an audience.

The farmer stood there rambling on once again about poor fertilizer quality and mauled livestock. On and on and on he went about shady merchants peddling shoddy goods and cow after cow and pig after pig being slaughtered in the night. Thankfully, a nearby door opened and closed, bringing the arrival of the very last person this stubborn farmer wanted to see. Linneá took one look at the burlap sack on the floor in front of her dad and before she could raise a hand to destroy the tubers, the man snatched them up and fled from the Blue Palace.

“Wonderful timing, Linn!” chuckled Kirin. “I was fast losing my patience with that lout, but it seems he’ll remember you for the rest of his days.”

“I can’t believe he brought those damn things back here again. What’s his name? Ana and I may need to pay a visit to his farm.”

“That won’t be necessary, hon.” Kirin dismissed Grist, Brelyna, and his Thanes for the day and headed off with his daughter. “Dinner ready?”

“Always. And we have unexpected guests from the south!”

“Cain and Gwyndala dropped in I take it?”

“Yeah, they have some news about an incident this afternoon on their way home from Whiterun. Kyne will be along at some point too, I expect. Cain summoned her just after it happened.”

They kept chatting while they walked until Linneá left his side to retrieve her wife and daughter from their private library downstairs. Kirin felt stuffy in his opulent robes and decided to stop by his study to don a less formal outfit for dinner with his family. It was a little chilly in the lofty room, so he stoked the coals burning low in the fireplace and added a few more pieces of timber.

Lydia came in soon after and caught her husband mid-change. His carved, bare torso took her breath away, as it always did. “You don’t have to keep in such fine shape for my benefit you, know,” she winked. “I’ll take you any way that I can have you.”

“Life hasn’t always been easy, love. I don’t want to get caught with my pants down one day. That is, unless it’s you doing the catching.”

Her eyes twinkled. “Maybe later, husband.” Lydia crossed the room and kissed him before helping to clasp the long overshirt together at the center. “The kids are all here again. Should be a rowdy supper.”

“Aye, Linn already told me so.” He hooked is elbow and offered an arm to his queen. “Shall we?”

“Lead on, my love.”

Lydia hooked her own arm within Kirin’s and they set off for dinner together. Activity inside the palace walls was already beginning to wind down for the day. A few guard patrols passed by them, nodding in salute. The service staff scurried about to check oil levels in the lanterns, and to swap candles out of sconces to keep them burning all through the night. Delicate aromas wafted up from the kitchens and the clattering of plates and cutlery announced the impending arrival of the dinner hour.

They were the last to arrive in a familiar dining room in the lower levels. Taking their seats right next to Linneá, Serana, Salihn, Cain, and Gwyndala, the pleasantries began immediately while goblets of water, tankards of mead, and glasses of wine were poured. Dinner arrived shortly after, which meant another hearty meal became the first order of business for the young evening.

It was only after several bellies were filled that Kirin broached the subject on his son, and Gwyn’s, mind. “So, what happened earlier that brought you here at mum’s urging? It wasn’t another dragon, was it?”

“No, nothing like that,” said Cain. “A gaggle of creatures waylaid us on the road out of town. They were nothing like Gwyn and I had ever seen before and I figured Kyne would know what they were. She said they are known as the Falmer.”

“Falmer? On the plains of Whiterun?” asked Linneá incredulously. “How many?”

“Five,” answered Gwyn. “And they were creepy little bastards.”

“That’s almost entirely unheard of,” said Linneá. “One or two may stray from a cave entrance on occasion but what your describing sounds like a scouting or raiding party.”

Kirin leaned back in his chair and mulled over this bit of news. His daughter was correct in that a group of Falmer being that far out in the open, and during the daytime no less, is exceedingly rare. Something about it didn’t sit right with him. It also brought to mind the plight of the annoying farmer who’d stood before him while court was in session.

Dead livestock mauled by unknown creatures of the night. It warranted a closer inspection.

“Oh no, what are you scheming up now, dad?” asked Serana. “I know that look.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you’ve been my daughter for my entire life,” grinned Kirin. “It’s uncanny how easily you can read me sometimes.”

“Quit beating around the bush,” said Linneá. “Where are you sending us?”

“Hallix Farm, on the other side of Dragon Bridge. A certain farmer that you’re all too familiar with is having issues with dead farm animals.”

“The idiot with the potatoes?”

“That’s the one.”

Linneá lapsed into silence after that confirmation. That was a two to three day journey on foot at minimum if they stayed off the roads, plus the time to investigate and return. It had been a long time since she’d left Solitude with Serana for anything other than a trip to Elysium or those short visits to Gwyn’s old cabin. But for the first time in her life, Linneá found that the idea of a quest lacked any kind of thrill for her. Traveling the land with Serana; investigating a mystery; possible Falmer involvement… None of it appealed to the young woman at this point in her life.

Your secret’s safe with me, love. Serana’s voice drifted into her mind, along with a fierce rush of affection. I don’t want to be away from Salihn for that long either. You’re a wonderful and caring mother, and I love you more and more every single day for it.

Don’t do that – you’re going to make me cry.

Too late. Linneá tried to hide the moisture welling up in the corners of her eyes, but Lydia noticed them anyway, and she understood exactly where they were had sprung from. A mother’s intuition tried to sway her husband against it. “Are you sure the girls are needed for this, Kir? Can’t you send one of the constables? Or maybe have a Thane look into it?”

“I need eyes I can absolutely trust on it,” said Kirin. “And my daughters have dealt with the Falmer more than anyone else here.”

There was still hesitation lingering on his sister’s face, and Cain didn’t understand why. She constantly reminisced about the glory days of being in the guild, or venturing into the unknown with Serana. This felt like something she’d wanted for a while. And Serana didn’t look any less pleased, though she was hiding it better.

But, like Lydia, Gwyn saw it right off and tried to help. “We’re not heading to Falkreath for another five days,” she piped up. “Salihn can stay with Cain and I if you’d like.”

Kirin’s head moved back and forth between Gwyn and his daughters. Then he groaned audibly with comprehension. “Damn it, I’m a fool for not thinking about that. I can’t just send you out on a whim anymore and expect you to leave the little one behind. Your mother’s right, someone else can visit the farm and look into the matter.”

“No, it’s fine, dad,” said Serana. “Elle and I can handle it, and if we take the carriage we can be over the bridge in less than a day. You just caught us off-guard is all. I don’t think either of us realized how much we’ve grown accustomed to life at home with Salihn.”

“Only if you are absolutely certain,” stated Kirin emphatically.

“We are,” said Linneá. “It won’t be easy, but we’ll manage.” She turned to Gwyn with a smile. “And we’d love for you two to keep an eye on her. She won’t be safer anywhere else in Tamriel. We’ll bring Salihn around for breakfast tomorrow and then be on our way.”

-----

Night had fallen over Skyrim and the ad hoc gathering for dinner had long since dispersed. Kirin and Lydia sat fretting by the fire in their bedroom, unsure if they’d made the right decision in supporting their daughters to travel again. They knew beyond doubt that Linneá and Serana could handle themselves anywhere in the world, but it wasn’t just the two of them anymore. Salihn was everything to them and they were everything to her. Life was changing. Priorities were changing.

“Sometimes I wish we’d never left the estate,” sighed Kirin. “What I wouldn’t give to keep our family away from the chaos that being the High King has brought on us.”

“You can’t think like that, Kir,” said Lydia. “Think of all the good things we’ve been able to do for Skyrim and its neighbors. How much you’ve accomplished already. If you had denied the Moot, would you have been able to stand idly by and watch the land slip further and further into uncertainty? The thought of a quiet life with the kids is enticing, but our people need us. All of us.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier. And I expect things will get even more complicated after our trip to the Imperial City tomorrow. The responsibilities of a king are tiresome enough… just imagine what possibly running an empire will do to me.”

“To us, dear. You will always have me at your side, and our children at your back. If it’s the will of the Divines for a Dragonborn to ascend the Ruby Throne once again, then we will all be right there with you. And I rather think the people of Cyrodiil will rally behind your willingness to improve the lives of all whom you lead, especially after the bare competence of Mede.”

“I know that,” said Kirin. “And I’ve never once doubted any of you. It still doesn’t mean it should be thrust upon our son and daughters without regard for their own wellbeing.”

“That doesn’t matter, husband. What matters is the love and care and devotion you continue to show us. And that’s all that truly matters, and it’s what makes you the great leader you’ve become. Skyrim is lucky to have you and Cyrodiil will be, too.”

The Heartland. Would that really be their new home? At this point in his life, Kirin couldn’t envision what life would be like anywhere but Skyrim. Once upon a time he’d worked as a mercenary in Cyrodiil but that was nearly thirty years ago, when he was a much younger man. And now he stood poised to return, as the Dragonborn Emperor. It still made his head spin. The only solace he took from it all was that he knew Skyrim would be left in capable hands. And that, as Lydia often reminded him, she would never leave his side. Not after all the time they’d already lost.

But still… Kirin wished life was safer for all of them, and that he didn’t have to send his daughters out to unravel strange happenings. Or have his only son traversing the entire land with his lady, just to deal with the headaches that were Skyrim’s Jarls. To make himself known to their people.

And the Dominion still lurked in the shadows. That was an issue Kirin feared would come to head much sooner than anyone cared to hear.

“Kir, it’s far too late in the evening for you to be worrying over this sort of thing,” said Lydia, breaking his train of thought. Come, let’s go to bed. We can discuss it further tomorrow.”

“You go ahead, dear. I’m not tired yet.”

“If you insist. Just don’t be too long – it’s getting cold in these walls and I’ll need a strong man to keep me warm.” Lydia gave him a kiss and headed for bed. After pulling off her robes and donning a nightgown, she buried herself under the blankets.

It didn’t take long for her breathing to slow and for the light sound of snoring to drift Kirin’s way. He went back to brooding over the future for a while until two soft knocks on the bedroom door garnered his attention. He knew those knocks. Kirin slid on his loafers and silently went to open the door for his late-night guest.

Kyne entered with the quiet grace that only a divine could manage and took the spot on the small couch that Lydia had recently vacated. She glanced at the sleeping queen with a caring smile before conjuring up a mug of warmed mead for Kirin.

“Ah, that will do wonders for the nerves. Thank you, mum.”

“I suspected you might be awake still,” said Kyne. “Your meeting with the High Chancellor is no small matter. Are you ready for what may come afterwards?”

“I’m trying to be. Although, I don’t think anyone could say that they are ready for such a thing with any measure of confidence.”

“And you would be correct in that assumption,” said Kyne. “Claiming otherwise would be foolish self-bravado and it’s what separates you from men like Titus Mede II. Power and greed were everything to that man and he clung to those false ideals until they became his undoing. You are so much more than he could ever hope to be and I know you will be a fair and just ruler.”

“You sound just like my Lydia,” mused Kirin. “We were talking about the same thing before she went to bed.”

“She’s a smart woman, my child. Always has been.”

“I know. But I worry most about how it will affect her. And how it will affect the kids.”

Kyne placed a comforting hand on his tense shoulder. “Your devotion to us all is exactly why I know you’ll succeed. A good leader needs to know love. Not just business or war or politics. The people care little for such things. They look to their chiefs, their Jarls, their kings, and their emperor for guidance and reassurance. They want to know you care for them and that you will protect them. And I know that you will do so as if they were your own. Worry not about us… your family will always be by your side.”

Kirin raised his hand to his shoulder and squeezed Kyne’s. He couldn’t imagine life without her guiding presence. Their goddess had always cared for Kirin and Lydia during the Dragon Crisis, but she had become so much more the moment that Linneá was born. She was family. As much a Windborne as any of them.

And this deep familiarity allowed Kirin to sense that Kyne was still uneasy about something other than what they’d already discussed.

“Gwyn?” he asked her.

She nodded. “I can tell she’s still resentful towards me. It’s well-deserved, but I didn’t think Cain would remain so distant. He forgave me, but things just aren’t the same when we speak. There’s a coldness that wasn’t present before.”

“I will talk to him about it tomorrow,” promised Kirin. “That’s not like him.”

“Be gentle about it if you do,” said Kyne. “We, and especially I, may have overlooked how deeply he cares for Gwyn already. How deeply they care for each other. Getting involved romantically might only have been a small step on a long road for them. And I fear my prying betrayed any trust they had for me.”

That was a nice afternoon in one of my favorite Skyrim taverns.

Falmer on the road? Yikes! I wonder what that’s about. Looks like we’ll find out soon. I completely understand Linn and Serana’s reluctance to leave Salihn with the grandparents while they go off on a road trip, even though she should be safe with them.

Very neat how you tied the two seemingly unrelated events of the falmer sighting and unhappy ‘tato farmer together.

Gwyn gets to dip her toes in the waters of motherhood it seems!

The late night discussion between Kirin and Lydia really showcased how heavily his mantle of responsibility weighs on Kirin, and the magnitude of what is ahead of him.

I wonder what Linneá and Serana will learn about the unusual falmer behavior.

It's not so much leaving her with the grandparents as it is leaving her at all. Salihn coming into their lives wildly changed Linneá and Serana's prioritizes. Just a year ago they would have been champing at the bit to be out on a quest again.

I think Gwyn is going to surprise folks with her motherly instincts. Part of her yearns strongly to be what her own mother never could.

-------------------------------

Chapter XI – Morning Musings and Blooming Blossoms


Linneá awoke in the early hours of dawn with an itchy nose. She typically preferred to sleep until first light but at some point in the night she had curled up close to Serana and was rewarded with a lock of her wife’s hair teasing her nostrils. Deciding there were much worse things in life, Linneá settled for deeply breathing in the floral scent of the offending locks and pulling herself in even tighter against Serana’s back.

“Mm,” muttered Serana. “Not so tight.”

“Sorry. Go back to sleep, my love. I won’t be far behind.”

They drifted off to sleep for a time not long enough for either of them to be satisfied. The bright sun began to poke through the thick glass panes of their bedroom window and beamed right into their restless pale faces.

“Stupid Magnus,” grumbled Serana. “Of all the autumn days for it to be sunny.”

“Won’t kill you.” Linneá refused to open her eyes and slurred her words in a half-awake fugue state. “Not a vampire anymore, ‘member?”

“Doesn’t mean I won’t bite you.”

“Promises, promises.”

Serana fumbled for the pull cord that ought to be next to the bed. Her hand closed around it with a satisfied sigh and with a tug on it, the window curtains drew together, and darkness returned to the bedroom once more.

“My hero,” breathed Linneá.

But even with their steps to ward off the coming day, sleep eluded them for the rest of the morning. They remained glued together under the warm down blankets and spoke in low tones so as to not wake up the little one. Salihn would no doubt come bounding in brimming with excitement of visiting mama Kyne’s house for a few days. Even if the impending mini adventure her parents were about to embark on was done so with half a heart.

“Elle?”

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“… Do you ever think we’ll get away from this life? I love being here with everyone and the palace has been home for a long time now, but…”
“You’d rather we lived a quiet life on our own somewhere?”

“I do. I miss our time at Elysium. It was peaceful amid the chaos, and far too short.”

“Me too. Don’t give up hope; I think it’s more attainable than you realize.”

That made Serana’s brow furrow. She didn’t see a way things would ever change for them and while Serana had openly accepted this life when they were wed and Kirin became High King, everything changed when they adopted Salihn as their own. They were of the royal bloodline now. Heirs to the throne of Skyrim. And while no one outright used the term ‘princesses’ with regards to her and Linneá, that is what they are.

She feared that would catch up to them one day.

“What do you mean by that?”

“By what?” answered Linneá, blearily. She had nearly fallen asleep again while Serana stewed on her words.

Serana jostled her back into wakefulness. “No sleeping unless I can, too. You said it’s attainable.”

“What is?”

“Elle – “

“I’m just teasing,” smiled Linneá. “Think about it… if dad takes the Ruby Throne, which is a terrifying thought on its own, that means our brother will be the new High King. And Cain is much more understanding of our plight after everything he’s been through. He knows what we’ve already dealt with, and he understands where we are at in our lives now. Cain’s a great big brother and likes to lean on that - I think he’ll very kindly order us to go live our own lives in peace.”

The door to their bedroom flew open before Serana could answer and a very excited elfling dashed in and dove onto the bed with them. She landed right on top of Linneá and Serana with little regard for where her bony elbows and knees dug into.

“Wake up, it’s time to go see Uncle Cain and Aunt Gwyn!”

Linneá laughed aloud at her antics despite nearly having the wind knocked out of her. She cast a certain illegal spell she’d been working on at Salihn and waited until the little one floated a foot or so above the bed before tickling her daughter relentlessly.

“Elle!” yelled Serana in mock horror. “No levitation spells for this monster!” Serana sat up and tossed her pillow at Linneá’s face and her wife flopped over dramatically from the soft impact.

This went on for several minutes and none of them noticed Lydia standing at the door, shaking her head with silent laughter at the three children goofing off on the bed. It was only when a stray pillow landed at Lydia’s feet that Serana took a moment to breathe and wave at her.

“Hey, mum, come on in!”

“Gramma!” Salihn leapt off the bed and ran to hug her third favorite person, playtime with her moms all but forgotten. “Are you coming with us to mama Kyne’s?”

“No, I’m staying here to run some errands,” said Lydia. “But I’ll make sure to visit you later, okay?”

“Okay! I’m gonna go pack my toys!” Salihn picked up the poorly aimed pillow and tossed it back onto the bed. “Hurry up and get dressed! We don’t want to be late!”

She dashed from the room while Linneá and Serana got up to make the bed and start getting ready. They seemed content enough, but Lydia could sense the apprehension still lingering over their impending journey.

“Are you girls sure you’re okay with doing this?”

Linneá waved the question away. “We’ll be fine, mum. It’s not far and it won’t take us very long. Ana walked down to the stables yesterday and booked the carriage already. Cain said he was packing up some provisions for us and he even dusted off our old camping gear. Everything we need is ready to go.”

“Alright, then. Just be safe, you two. If you find anything strange, come back here right away and let us know.”

“Will do, mum.” Linneá hugged her and then gestured kindly at the door. “Gotta get dressed, we’ll say goodbye before we leave.”

Lydia nodded and left them to it. Linneá and Serana got out of their sleeping clothes and pulled on thin under layers before opening their spacious closet and staring at the little-used armors and robes resting or hanging within. Neither of them had the cause to wear most of it anymore and the fit of the offerings caused a little bit of worry.

In the end, they settled on the very same outfits that had served them well while tracking down Lydia over six years ago: Linnea’s custom dyed Elmlock armor, and Serana’s enchanted Confessor robes. After taking several minutes to don it all, they emerged from the bedroom to a waiting Lydia and Salihn.

“Uh, did I step back in time?” blinked Lydia. “You two look the just the same as you did when you pulled me out of Apocrypha. Must be nice to still be so young!” she added with a laugh.

“It’s a bit tight if I’m being honest,” said Linneá. “In the pants, I mean. And it looks like Ana will need a seamstress to let out the bust. Not that I’m complaining.”

“Hush, Elle. It all fits just fine. Are you ready, dear?” Serana asked Salihn.

Their daughter’s head bobbed up and down enthusiastically, an overnight bag resting on the floor by her feet.

“Your father will be along in a second,” said Lydia. She gave them each a hug and kissed the top of Salihn’s head. “He wants to tag along so that Cain doesn’t have to come here and get him.”

“Ooh, that’s right – today’s the big meeting down south, huh?” Linneá frowned. She’d nearly forgotten about that and wondered if they shouldn’t wait until Cain returned before embarking on their own quest.

Gwyn will be just fine for a few hours, soothed Serana. She loves this munchkin dearly. Besides, you just know that Kyne won’t be able to stay away.

You’re right. I need to stop worrying so much.

Just then, Kirin entered their living suite from the hallway and waved genially at them. “You three ready to go?”

“Wow, you certainly are, dad!” remarked Serana.

She couldn’t remember a time when her father-in-law looked more kingly. He wore opulent red and gold robes studded with gems around the collar. The Windborne family crest spanned his back with the soaring hawk front and center for all to see. A delicate sash tied it all together at the waist and his boots were polished to a sheen. Kirin even held the little worn Jagged Crown at his side, just in case any doubts about his intentions were raised.

“Not every day one gets to visit the High Chancellor and the White-Gold Tower,” mused Kirin. “Unless your name is Cain, of course.”

“You look very handsome, husband,” said Lydia. “And I know that you’ll do well today.” She leaned in closer so that only Kirin could hear her parting words. “The robe stays on tonight, got it?”

“Understood, my queen.” They kissed briefly and she departed with a wave.

“Ready, da?” said Linneá.

“Aye, let’s go before I change my mind.”

-----

Around the same time of early morning that sleep eluded his younger sisters, Cain also laid awake, staring at the canopy of the four-poster bed in Elysium Estate’s master bedroom. Gwyn’s head rested on his shoulder with a slender arm spanning his bare torso. Her light snores offered a contentedness he had not felt for some time, and he wished they could stay there like that forever. Happy, safe, and secure. Cain found it hard to believe that just one month ago, they had been sleeping in separate beds while he was completely still unaware of how Gwyn had felt about him.

He wasn’t sure if recognizing the signs sooner would have led to where they were now, but Cain suspected little would’ve changed. Especially if it meant he could offer the comfort at night that he now did. Gwyn still struggled with nightmares, but his intimate presence was usually enough that he could hold her tight and break the hold over her.

Lost in those thoughts, Cain subconsciously started running his fingers through her blue hair. He didn’t notice the sudden absence of snoring until Gwyn jabbed a finger into his belly.

“Ow, hey!”

“Don’t ‘hey’ me, you’re the one who woke me up,” grumbled Gwyn. “I was having such a pleasant dream for a change. What the hell time even is it?”

“No sun yet, so I’d guess around 4am.”

“[censored]’s sake, Cain. Why the hell are you awake already?”

“I dunno. Just thinking about things, I guess.”

“Well, think more quietly. I’m not done sleeping.” She closed her eyes again and tried drifting back off. Cain began to squirm away, and she strengthened her grip on his torso. “You’re staying,” she warned. “Go back to sleep.”

He smiled to himself in the darkness and rested a hand on Gwyn’s back. They both eventually fell asleep again, but they ended up sleeping well past the eventual sunrise and were roused with a start when voices called to them from the hallway.

Linneá and Serana had arrived with Salihn and Kirin to a quiet house with no signs of movement.

“[censored]!” said Cain. “[censored] [censored] [censored]! C’mon, Gwyn we overslept. Breakfast needs put on and I need to get ready for the Imperial City.”

Gwyn emerged from the bedroom first only a few minutes later. She still wasn’t quite awake, but she tried her best to be polite. After fussing about the kitchen for a few minutes, she felt less groggy and joined Cain’s family at the table with an urn of tea and some porcelain mugs.

“Sorry, the morning got away from us. I can’t fix anything elaborate in time for breakfast. There’s plenty of bread in the pantry and sweetened butter somewhere, though. Can I get some for you?” She paused and glanced around the room. “Where’s Salihn?”

“I’ll grab it, Gwynnie,” said Linneá. “And the kiddo is playing in the den. Relax and let the tea kick in. We’ll be fine.”

Serana poured herself a mug of piping hot tea and took a sip while looking curiously at Gwyn. That was the first time the Breton didn’t protest or threaten Linneá for calling her that. Was she that settled into her new life already? They’d grown to be close friends since the heartfelt chat in the basement and Gwyn had really come out of her shell around the rest of them, but this felt like something else. Serana was wondering how to address it delicately when Kirin decided to just go for it. She sometimes envied his lack of tact.

“Are you, uh, feeling alright, Gwyn?” he asked. “Normally you get a bit cross when Linn calls you that.”

“It’s not a big deal,” shrugged Gwyn. “I know she teases from a good place and that’s fine with me.”

Linneá returned just then with a teeming platter of freshly sliced bread and a crock of warm butter whipped with honey and cinnamon. She patted Gwyn on top of her head and grinned. “Knew you’d come around eventually.”

“Don’t push it, Linn. Your [censored] brother was up in far too early this morning and managed to wake me up, too.”

“That’s funny… Ana and I were awake like that, too.”

“In that case, you’re all goddamn nuts.”

“Love you, too, sis,” winked Linneá.

Having finished getting ready, Cain froze in place on his way up the hall when he heard Linneá say that. He was completely unsure how Gwyn would react to such a powerful word. They hadn’t even said that to each other yet, although Cain had almost let it slip a few times already. And based on her troubled past, Cain was fairly certain that no one had ever told Gwyn that.

Kirn and Serana seemed to have similar apprehension. A hush fell over the dining room that dragged on until what felt like eternity. Then, to Cain’s immense relief, Gwyn stood up and hugged Linneá tightly while she cried into his sister’s arms.

Linneá looked absolutely stunned, but happy, nonetheless. Soon enough, tears of her own mingled with Gwyn’s. She caught Cain’s eye down the hall and waved him over. Not wanting to intrude on Gwyn’s tender moment with someone other than himself, he settled for giving her hand a gentle squeeze before heading into the kitchen. Coffee was essential for the morning ahead of him.

The water was on and starting to heat up when Gwyn finally let go of Linneá to dab at her eyes with a napkin from the table. “I’m sorry, Linn. Your cuirass is soaked from my blubbering. Nice armor, by the way.”

“It’ll dry,” said Linneá. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Really. I just, um… you… you’re the first person to tell me that. Ever. I never knew my father, and my mother just used me as an object, and I was an only child, so... Yeah. You caught me off guard.”

Linneá’s heart ached for the young woman Cain had brought into their life and silently vowed to never let the poor girl down. She lifted Gwyn’s chin with her hand and stared directly into her eyes. “Hey. You have my brother now. And you have us. Like it or not, Ana and I are your sisters now and you’ll never be rid of us. Got it?”

Gwyn nodded with fresh tears pooling up. “I’ll hold you to that, Linn.” She gave Linneá another quick hug and then headed into the kitchen to help Cain with his coffee. They gathered up some more mugs for their guests and set them out while the water simmered away above the small cooking fire. With nothing to do but wait until the kettle whistled, Gwyn’s hand found Cain’s and clasped it tightly. “Thank you for brining me here. For bringing me into your life. I know it was a rocky start, but this is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Gwyn. After everything we’ve been through together, I’d give you the entire world if I could.”

“The world feels like too much,” she grinned. “But I’ll certainly settle for Skyrim, Mr. Future King.”

A big day ahead for this clan. Kirin and Cain off to the White Gold Tower, Linneá and Serana all set to go try to check out the falmer and Gwyn. . . . Well, Gwyn will be on elfling duty, but just look at the strides she’s made fitting into this family! A joy to see.

Act II

Interlude


Queen Penolore watched the languid progress of the mining mages far below with disdain. For decades they have been carefully and methodically digging their way far beneath the ruined mass that once was Crystal-Like-Law: the fabled Tower of the Summerset Isles. Torn down by the minions of Mehrunes Dagon during the Oblivion Crisis, it was only under the queen’s rule that excavations began. Somewhere beneath the indeterminable tons of rubble, dangerous pockets of unrestrained magick, and reanimated demons of Dagon laid her prize.

She was tantalizingly close. Victory was palpable. It was inevitable and would be absolute; especially if Magister Lisotel could manage to pick up the pace with his own endeavor. It was Lisotel’s arrival and progress report Penolore awaited from her balcony high upon the ramparts of the royal palace.
And he was late. Then a knock thudded against the door behind Penolore, followed by an opening creak, and the snap of the latch. Lisotel approached her side and waited to be addressed by his queen.

“Progress, Lisotel?”

“We are gaining ground and will soon be ahead of schedule.”

“What of the locals? Have they begun to suspect anything is amiss?”

“There is no indication of that, my queen. Our spies throughout the province have not reported any signs of awareness to the operation in Blackreach. There has been an uptick in Falmer activity on the surface – which we anticipated – but to our knowledge, it has gone unnoticed. We are proceeding apace and estimate that the timetable has moved up to two months.”

Only two? The wait for his tardy arrival was worth it with the news that the oaf brought Queen Penolore. That short of a time for his ambitious scheme to bring fruition could fall in perfectly with her own timeline on the excavation far below them. Dare she hope that her enemies fall with one swift stroke? It was almost too much to dream of.

Almost.

“Get back there and continue the work, Lisotel. And see to it that your men are ever vigilant. Those barbarians in Solitude mustn’t get wind of what we are up to.”

“Of course. Right away, my queen.”

Magister Lisotel slunk away from her side and resumed his duties while the monarch allowed a haughty smirk of satisfaction to touch her taut lips. There will be none left to oppose me.

-----

“Today’s the big day, huh?”

High Chancellor Anilay Cato peered over his spectacles at the roguish Blades captain occupying one of the two seats placed before his expansive desk. Brother Cassian was capable and eager but lacked a measure of decorum when dealing with the men and women like himself that were tasked with maintaining a leaderless empire. He suspected that the High King of Skyrim, should he issue his writ of claim, may not be as forgiving as himself.

“Practice your manners, Cassian,” chided Anilay. “By all accounts, Kirin Windborne is a fair and temperate man, but only time will tell how he may choose to direct those beneath him. I’d rather you not be made an example of for your lax attitude.”

The cocky smile slipped from Brother Cassian’s lips, and he sat up a little straighter in his chair. “Aye, sir.”

Anilay slipped his gaze back down to the report his captain had only just delivered. It would seem that Delphine and her escorts were moving quickly and would arrive in Skyrim’s capital in a matter of days. He was impressed she kept pace with the younger agents and made a mental note to advise the High King that there was yet more to her than met the eye.

Unfortunately, Delphine also needed new orders of which the High Chancellor had yet to produce. The abrupt uptick in correspondence between the two provinces and Kirin Windborne’s imminent arrival rendered her initial mission useless. It would be prudent to have a Blades asset such as herself in such a pivotal position, but Anilay remained unsure what more than a veteran presence she could provide for the Blue Palace.

Brother Cassian cleared his throat expectantly.

“Apologies,” said Anilay. “You may return to Chorrol, Brother. I will have new orders for you by midday.” He glanced out the window and noted the position of the rising sun with a slight nervousness. “For now, you are excused. Our honored guest will be arriving shortly and I must prepare myself.”

Many big days ahead. With Gwyn's integration comes the final assembly of the family. Fresh challenges await!

The Summerset scene shows a clandestine threat is afoot. What is it Penolore seeks beneath the ruins of the version of Crystal-Like-Law that she gazes upon? Transparent Law or its heart perhaps? Does the potential ability to exist across planes come into play? And what is the connection to Blackreach? Is some sort of secretive underground assembly site for Thalmor being prepared to support an invasion of Skyrim? Hmm, I get the impression though that her plans involve a threat to Cyrodiil as well. At least we learn that the unusual falmer activity in Skyrim seems to be related. Perhaps Linnea and Serana will learn more of this aspect.

“Those barbarians in Solitude mustn’t get wind of what we are up to.”
- - Methinks ‘those barbarians’ will indeed soon get wind of something going on. Penelore sounds a typical haughty Atmer. Viewing other races as ‘unworthy’ is perhaps the biggest weakness the Altmer have. When you view Nords as hairy, drunken oafs (as the Altmer typically do) it leads to underestimating them. . . .


The Imperial City scene gives us a feel for what Anilay is up to as he anticipates the High King of Skyrim’s arrival.

Blackreach and the tower aren't necessarily connected, the Dominion is just getting lucky that two important operations are unfolding in parallel for them. Neither option is good for the future of Tamriel, though.

It was fun to see the couples’ mornings as they handed off the youngest generation for childcare. They really do feel like a family.

Uh oh, Queen Penelore smirking sounds like bad news coming on two fronts.