Chapter XXII – Conjuring Demons

There emitted a brief flash of purple light behind Gwyn and the next thing she heard was Linneá squealing with delight at an unexpected visitor. She threw herself bodily into Serana’s arms and when their lips locked together, they remained that way for some time while Gwyn busied herself with facing another direction.

Serana just dropped in on us, she thought to Cain. I can’t believe it took her that long.

Oh? How’s that going? came the unsurprised reply.

I’ll let you know when they come up for air.

Gwyn sought around for a rock to sit on. A largeish flat stone waited for her about ten feet away, and so she melted the snow off with her new warming spell and took a seat. Luckily, Linneá and Serana seemed to remember that she was also there and joined her side with sheepish expressions on their faces.

“Sorry, Gwyn,” said Serana, her cheeks filled with a touch of pink. “But that was overdue.”

“It’s fine,” waved Gwyn idly. “Linn had to deal with Cain and I already, so fair’s fair. What brings you to our little slice of Oblivion that is these stupid [censored] mountains?”

“Just needed to see Elle before I burst.”

“I’m glad you did. She talks about you endlessly, ya know,” said Gwyn.

“Does she now?”

“Hey, I’m still here!” Linneá interjected.

“For the moment,” winked Serana. “Why don’t you throw up your tent and muffle the inside for a bit?”

Gwyn groaned loudly. “Ugh. At least summon Kyne to sit with me while you two get caught up. Not being able to hear you only helps so much.”

“She’s on her way,” said Linneá as she summoned the tent and disappeared inside of it with her wife.

True to her words, Kyne soared down from the cloudy, grim looking sky and alighted gently on the ground next to Gwyn. The light blue and impossibly soft robes she donned seemed to mock the harsh air of early winter in the Reach and made Gwyn long for the warmth of spring.

“Let’s take a walk,” she said to the goddess. “I’m not convinced Linn’s spell will be strong enough to block them out.”

“That sounds lovely, dear,” said Kyne. “I’m pleased your comfortable enough to call me for this sort of thing.”

They walked away from the makeshift campsite in relative silence. To Gwyn’s surprise – and for the first time since that stressful first day at Elysium – she realized there was no longer any anger towards Kyne burning within. Instead, she felt glad to have her company, and she wondered when that had changed. It certainly wasn’t her first impromptu visit while Gwyn traveled. In fact, Kyne had shown up many times already, whether it was to check on Cain and Gwyn, or Gwyn and Linneá, but Gwyn typically felt a slight annoyance at her sudden arrivals.

Might it have something to do with her quick willingness to aid with that arrow wound? Cain asked her. Or all the other times mum has offered to help? She did heavily regret what happened…

I guess, replied Gwyn. And I did say that she’d have to earn my forgiveness. I think maybe she did that without me noticing.

A short way into their walk, Kyne spoke up and ended the candid silence. “How’s Cain faring? I assume you two are conversing?”

“He’s fine,” said Gwyn. “Bored to death on that ship, but otherwise in good spirits.”

She came to a stop alongside the river and sat down on another flat rock. The icy and clear waters burbled gently downstream towards the occupied tent that was still within sight should something happen, but they were well out of earshot. Kyne took a seat on another rock opposite of Gwyn and smiled kindly at her.

“Something on your mind, dear? Besides Cain, of course.”

“Um. Yeah, sort of.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“No, not really. Actually… well, I suppose you already have.”

“Oh?”

Gwyn fidgeted with a loose button on her overcoat. She wasn’t sure what she was so nervous about. Kyne was a huge part of her life now, and despite their tumultuous start, the goddess’ presence in her life had already brought with it an intimate familiarity. But there were still times when the realization that she regularly spoke with one of the Nine Divines reared its head and made her mind spin.

And Gwyn never once dreamed that she would be granting clemency to one of them.

“So… about what happened between us,” she began, taking the plunge.

Kyne’s face fell. “Gwyn, we don’t have to talk about that if you’re still upset. I know what I did was wrong and you were right to be angry. All of you were.”

“That’s just it. I don’t feel that way anymore, Kyne. I told you back then that I understood why you did it and that I just needed time to deal with it. Since then, I’ve grown to appreciate a lot about who you are and what you do for us. For all of us. I guess what I’m saying is… I forgive you. Just don’t expect me to start calling you ‘mum’ or anything like that. And for the love of the gods; please stay out of my [censored] head unless I invite you in!”

The look of pure happiness that Gwyn’s words elucidated nearly melted the snow covering the ground about them. Kyne cleared away grateful tears with the sleeve of her robes and resisted the overwhelming urge to hug the tiny woman to her breast as tightly as possible.

“You have no idea how much that means to me, Gwyndala. And you may call me whatever you please!”

To the goddess’ further surprise, it was Gwyn herself who then stood up and invited Kyne into an embrace.

I love you, Gwyn, whispered Cain. And I’m glad you found peace with her.

-----

Kyne had already departed when Linneá’s tent opened and she emerged with Serana in tow, both of them panting slightly. They sat around the fire Gwyn just finished lighting and shared a canteen of water between them.

“Did you get it out of your system?” she teased.

“[censored] no,” grinned Linneá. “And don’t sit there and pretend you wouldn’t be doing the same thing with my brother right now if you could, Gwynnie. I’ve seen the lust in your eyes when he is around.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Did Kyne leave already?” asked Serana. “I’m surprised she didn’t stick around to see us.” She eyed Gwyn warily from behind the nearly emptied canteen. “You two didn’t butt heads again, did you?”

“Why, Serana! I’m shocked that you would suggest such a thing!” mocked Gwyn. “Absolutely shocked!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, alright, sis,” said Serana. “No need to get silly about it. You and Kyne just have a history is all.”

“I know. Which is why I’ve forgiven her. I’m still all warm and tingly inside from when she hugged me.”

Both Linneá and Serana looked gobsmacked. Apparently, neither of them had expected such a sudden turn of events and assumed that Gwyn must have been harboring a deep grudge over the wedge Kyne had driven between them some weeks ago. Then Linneá thought to herself that she should have picked up on it based on how willingly Gwyn requested the goddess’ presence.

“That’s wonderful to hear, Gwyn,” beamed Linneá. “We figured you were still trying to deal with that.”

“I did struggle with it for a while,” admitted Gwyn. “But your brother has a thing against grudges, and it’s been rubbing off on me. And I know I come across as a bitch most of the time but that doesn’t mean I’m an asshole.”

Linneá giggled and rolled her eyes. “What a thoroughly Gwyn way to phrase such a thing. Never change, sis. We love you just the way you are.”

“That having been said,” Serana began. “Elle and I did want to talk to you about something a little grimmer. Only if it’s okay with you, that is,” she added.

“My magic? Knew we’d get there eventually.”

Gwyn was surprised it took this long for them to bring it up. Granted, Linneá had only recently witnessed it for the first time, but she assumed Cain would have spoken to them about it before. A part of her was pleased that he hadn’t, and it made Gwyn love him that much more for continuously respecting her boundaries. Especially with it being a sore subject that rested on the fringes of her thoughts more than usual lately.

“I don’t know what I expected, Gwyn, but it wasn’t what I saw when those bandits attacked us. The level of gruesome carnage just seemed so, I don’t know, effortless for you? Like you were just going to cast a simple burst of fire or something.”

“That is all I tried to do,” sighed Gwyn. “I never learned how to cast anything other than that and a novice-level fire cloak. But once the intent is put into the spell, it’s like my instincts take over and I have to end the threat at all costs.”

“And it stems from…” Serana couldn’t bear to say the words aloud.

“Yeah.”

The silence that followed outweighed anything further Linneá or Serana wanted to say. While Linneá knew that she could never begin to understand the depths of Gwyn’s trauma and how it twisted her magick into the brutally efficient form she defended herself with, her closeness with Serana did allow her to sympathize. But neither of them, nor even Gwyn herself, had figured out how to begin the healing process.

“Gwyn, do you ever try to talk about it with Cain?” asked Linneá. “I mean really talk about it in way that could maybe let you parse out how the, um, events have affected you on a subconscious level.”

“We have. And since he joined our minds, Cain has felt the full brunt of what makes me tick, including the feelings of hatred when I killed that bandit.” Gwyn bowed her head to wipe away tears that sprung unbidden to the corners of her eyes. “Truth be told, I had really hoped that letting him in there with me would have helped bring me some peace of mind. And I am happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life, but at the end of the day all I still think about is ‘what the hell is wrong with me?’ or ‘will I be broken forever?’.”

“Sis, you’re not broken – “ Serana began before Gwyn cut her off.

“Easy for you to say. You don’t hate yourself.” She raised an upturned palm and filled it with crimson magicka, the eddies of corrupted destruction dancing captivatingly. “You’ve no idea how many times I thought about using this on myself to end the pain. The misery. But something always kept me going. And then your brother stumbled into my life and brought all of you with him. I love him and I love all of you and yet it still isn’t enough. Then I met your daughter and every part of my being cried out to have a child of my own; and that’s the only straw I have left to grasp before giving up on ever being whole again.”

Linneá filled her own palm with an aura of white and gold that streamed forth and snuffed out the violent spell Gwyn conjured. She had no idea how to comfort her any further, but the seeds of an idea began to take root in the back of her mind, and she quietly summoned their guardian angel for the second time that afternoon.

We’ll keep trying, Cain spoke into Gwyn’s mind. Every chance we get. You deserve everything I can give you, even if you don’t feel the same way yet. And I’m really proud of you for opening up to my sisters like that. I have something for you the next time we see each other.

It won’t be soon enough. I miss you more and more every second.

Knowing that Kyne’s arrival would take a bit longer this time, Serana called up her own chest and fished out a bottle of brandy. She poured out a full tankard’s worth and passed it to Gwyn who warmed it over the fire for a few seconds.

“I know spirits aren’t the way to deal with something like that, but sometimes it’s still warranted.”

“I’ll take it,” said Gwyn. “And thank you for not trying to appease or coddle me. I’ll either get through this, or I won’t, but it won’t be for lack of trying.”

“About that…” said Linneá.

Gwyn groaned again and eyed her with apprehension. “I know that tone, Linn. What are you up to?”

“You know me too well. Kyne is on her way and she’s bringing a friend of hers. I’m excited to meet her myself, if I’m being honest. Even Cain got to meet her already.”

Before she could dwell on that, Gwyn’s eye caught sight of the hawk dropping down towards them with another bird soaring at beside her wingtips: a pure white dove. They dropped to the earth, morphing into the mortal forms the Windborne’s were accustomed to seeing. Their goddess Kyne with the same blue robes, tall with auburn hair and green eyes. And the Lady Mara, wearing a brilliantly white yet altogether humble smock, her long blonde hair trailing down her back, and blue eyes resting just beneath improbably perfectly cut bangs.

“Hello, my child,” said newcomer. The timbre of her voice was so beautifully airy that it made Gwyn’s heart skip a beat. “My name is Mara. I understand you are having a difficult time with certain aspects of who you are? Let us take a walk so that we may come to know one another.”

“Holy [censored],” breathed Gwyn. “I swear, this [censored] family...”

Chapter XXIII – The Cold Northlands

Dawnstar is a meager port town on the Sea of Ghosts, roughly midway between Solitude and Winterhold. And as Cain soon came to learn, the citizens that call it home are either salty sailors or miserable miners. Neither group offered much hospitality to travelers, so he kept his identity to himself until it was time to meet Jarl Brina Merilis.

He was alone for the time being, for Delphine had immediately left to find her contact after they disembarked from the Siren’s Song. With little to do until the following afternoon, Cain rented a room at the Windpeak Inn and ordered a warm meal to stave off the icy winds of the sea. The tavern offered their services in a more homely manner than most places he’d visited in Skyrim so far, and the bartender simply handed him a bowl and pointed at the large cast iron cauldron sitting aside the central fire pit. Cain ladled out what smelled like a hearty seafood chowder and tossed a chunk of bread on top before finding a quiet seat in the corner.

I can’t believe you’d eat a proper meal like that while I’m living off of rations. Gwyn had a waspish tone when she spoke into his mind, but Cain recognized the playfulness behind it.

Toss a marker on the ground and come join me. Linn won’t mind if Serana is still there visiting you. I’m sure they’d love another excuse to be in that tent again.

Can’t. She decided it would be a good idea to ask Mara for help, so now the two of us are looking for a secluded place to converse.

Cain nearly choked on a spoonful of chowder. He and Anska had been graced by the Goddess of Love’s presence not long after they began their courtship, but that had been a special circumstance. And with how well his relationship with Gwyn had progressed, he’d never envisioned a second entanglement with her.

What!?

Yeah. I’m honestly not even surprised. This is just so [censored] typical of you people.

I’m coming to your side. I should be there with you. Cain set his bowl aside and began to lace up his boots again, but Gwyn stopped him short of leaving the inn.

You don’t need to, love. I’m a big girl and I can handle this on my own. It’s sweet that you want to, but I’ll be okay.

Are you sure?

Yes. And I have to go. She found us a nice cluster of dead trees to sit under.

Cain wished her good luck and sat back down to finish his lunch. Unsure of what to do after that, he bundled up and decided to take a walk around town to familiarize himself with Dawnstar. Small as it may be, the port remained vital to travel and trade along Skyrim’s northern frontiers. There was little to offer though, and he ended up visiting the Quicksilver Mine to see how Delphine fared.

Not well, as it turned out. When Cain found her, she was sitting on an upturned bucket with a damp cloth pressed to a wound on her forehead.

“Hold still,” said Cain, shaking his head. He cast a quick healing spell on the old woman and then sat on the ground at her side. “What happened?”

“Irvkar isn’t as malleable as he once was. I pushed too hard, and he didn’t take too kindly to that. My reflexes aren’t what they once were either. I should have seen it coming.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, Delphine. We all lose a step eventually. It could have been worse, but it wasn’t, which means luck is still on your side. Let’s head back to the inn – they have a lovely pot of chowder that’ll make you feel a lot better about this day.

Delphine eyed him approvingly. “You remind me a lot of your father, Cain. I see why he strives so much to have you succeed him. Your sister on the other hand…”

“Is the best of us,” finished Cain. “Don’t mistake her temper for anything other than a fierce loyalty to those whom she loves. Linneá wears her heart on her sleeve, and she would lay down her life to save this land and everyone in it. She would make an excellent High Queen.”

“I’ll take your word for it, Dragonborn. Enough talk for now; lead me on to this mythical meal you spoke of!”

-----

Early afternoon of the following day came on the heels of another successful introduction to one of Skyrim’s Jarls. Brina Merilis had been much more pleasant to deal with than the lout Cain and Gwyn had met in Markarth; and much less foreboding than Jarl Idgrod of Morthal. How a member of the infamous Silver-Blood family had come to power in that city mystified Cain, especially after learning some of the family’s history in The Reach. And the dire warning given by the Seer loomed over all of their heads like a thunder cloud.

“Were you able to book passage back to Solitude on another ship?” Cain said to Delphine. “I think the Starbreeze is bound to the west.”

“I’m not going back just yet.”

“Delphine…”

“I pried a tip from one of the dockhands this morning. Apparently, there is a Falmer hive to the south of Dawnstar that isn’t on any maps, including your fathers. Travelers who make the journey to Whiterun on foot refer to it as Duskglow Crevice. It’s about a day’s march from Fort Dunstad.”

Cain fished his folded map out of the bag he carried everywhere and smoothed it out upon the tabletop. The fort Delphine spoke of was constructed around a small town, but there were no signs of a nearby cave.

“Are you sure about this, Delphine?”

“Absolutely.” She pulled her own map out and laid it beside his, indicating the ‘X’ marked along the side of a small valley between two rocky outcrops. “It ought to be right here.”

“I can’t come with you,” said Cain. “You know that, right?”

“I do. I plan on hiring some of Brina’s men to escort me to the fort and then gathering a few soldiers to check on the cave with me. I’ll be safe in their care, and I will take a carriage back to Solitude after I’ve explored Duskglow.”

“Then I guess this is where we part ways,” said Cain. “I assume you leaving after lunch? The Siren isn’t going to push off before dawn, so I’m here for another night. Captain doesn’t like the look of the clouds blowing in and thinks we’re in for a bad storm tonight.”

“Safe travels, friend,” said Delphine.

She excused herself and left the inn, leaving Cain to wonder if her plan was the best idea. There were a lot of unknowns to it and as her ill-fated meeting with an old contact had illustrated, the old Blade was not the capable fighter from bygone days. But he’d be keeping tabs on her for the next few hours regardless, just to make sure she got out of Dawnstar and out of his hair. Delphine remained in the dark on how Cain and his family traveled, and she did not know that he would be recalling to a talisman placed at the College of Winterhold in time for dinner with another Jarl.

Three hours later, Cain watched Delphine head south on horseback at a gentle trot. Six other men on horses of their own rode in a box formation around her and by late afternoon they were gone from sight. And so was Cain after he ducked behind the inn before vanishing without a trace.

-----

He reappeared in a small chamber connected to Arch Mage Ervine’s quarters and knocked thrice on the door to announce his presence.

“Come!” Mirabelle Ervine stood hunched over an alchemy lab, peering at him over round glasses perched at the end of her nose. “Ah, you must be Cain. We’ve heard a lot about the king’s son – it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise, Arch Mage.”

“Please, call me Mira. Do you require any of our services before you depart?”

“No, thank you,” said Cain. “Will you be attending my dinner with Jarl’s court tonight?”

“That won’t be necessary. Jarl Aranea is a friend of the College and will relay anything of importance to us.”

“Then I won’t take up anymore of your time. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mira.” Cain bowed respectfully and saw his way out into the College proper. Appreciative of the warm halls full of knowledge, he took his time descending to the Hall of Elements before heading out into the blistering cold of Skyrim’s harshest city.

Winterhold had been slowly recovering and building up since Kirin ascended to the throne, but the city yet remained a shadow of what it once was. A few new traders had cropped up, and a guarded walkway that led to a new seaport dropped out of sight to the east, but there was still a lack of interest for citizens to repopulate the town. A few Dunmer had made their way north from Windhelm when Aranea Ienith came into power following the former Jarl’s passing.

A well-respected mage who had settled down sometime in 4E 201, Aranea was a near unanimous choice due to her willingness to help the few remnants of Winterhold through the long winters and short summers of the northlands.

You know what… I take it back. I’d rather be here than in that sorry excuse for a hold capital.

Cain chuckled aloud at Gwyn’s silent statement. It’s not so bad and there is still opportunity for improvement.

Good luck getting anyone to move there.

I dunno, hon. These Nords seem to relish a challenge.

And they would do well to exercise their minds instead of chopping wood for eternity just to keep warm. Education is a serious problem in this province, Cain. I’ve got big plans for when you take the reins.

Is that so? I didn’t realize I was dealing with the future High Queen, your majesty!

Shut up, idiot. I know you’ve got a ring in your pocket. Our minds are linked, dumbass.

There’s my girl.

-----

“So, all-in-all another successful trip?” asked Kirn.

“I think so,” said Cain. “Jarls Brina and Aranea certainly know what they are doing and are a positive influence on their cities. I don’t anticipate any issues in dealing with them. “

“Excellent! Go get something to eat and then rest for a while, my son. I’ll let the kitchen staff know you are coming.”

“Actually, I planned on going home to Elysium for a few days. Want to tag along for a nightcap? There should be a case of Juniper Mead waiting for me by the front door.”

Surprisingly, Kirin thought that to be a wonderful idea, and he went off in search of Lydia to see if she would like to join them. Cain busied himself by leafing through a few notes and letters that had arrived by carrier birds and was pleased to see that Delphine had thought to notify her king of the unplanned journey she set out on from Dawnstar earlier that same day.

When Kirin returned to the study a short time later, he did so alone. “Looks like we are going stag tonight, Cain. Lyds is watching Salihn while Serana is away. I didn’t know she left to visit Linn again.”

“Nor did I,” said Cain. “Must’ve been a last-minute idea.”

“Most likely. Those two can be very spontaneous.”

Kirin grabbed his coat and a favorite drinking glass before Cain whisked them away to Elysium for a quiet night at home.

-----

The sun began to set over the Western Reach when the fluttering of tent flaps interrupted Linneá’s solitary evening meal. Sitting fireside in the same place they’d made camp the day before, she earnestly waited for Gwyn to rejoin the land of the awaken. The tiny woman emerged from her tent, stretched her arms and legs to work out the kinks, and beamed at an astounded Linneá.

“Sis! What happened to your - “

“Later, Linn. Please summon your wife or Kyne again. I need to go see Cain.”

Before Linneá could offer any sort of protest, Gwyn vanished from sight with a flick of her wrist.

“All that waiting and I don’t even get an answers,” sighed Linneá. Fancy rations over a fire? She silently asked Serana. It’s just me again.

Gwyn is awake? How is she doing? What happened?

I don’t know and I don’t know, giggled Linneá. She left for home to see Cain immediately.

Hm. That’s odd. I could have sworn he just arrived here at the palace. There was a brief pause and then Serana spoke again: mum just arrived and said she’d watch the munchkin for a little bit. I’m on my way.

{================}

Chapter XXV – The Rising Light

The entryway, kitchen, and dining room of Elysium Estate were lined with candles flickering away in the dim light of evening tide. Wall shelves, tables, chairs, bar stools, countertops, side tables, and the floor itself all contributed to the cause, and in the center of the open space waited something wholly remarkable to Cain – a feat of nature magick that took his breath away. A fairy ring of mushrooms and toadstools grew from a small patch of earth spread over the floorboards separating the home from the frozen ground beneath it.

Gwyndala Louvain waited for him amidst the summoned ring, barefoot and clad in a strapless shimmering pale blue dress which clashed magnificently with her natural strawberry blonde hair gracefully caressing her shoulders, now fully on display for the world to see. Or, at least for Cain and his father to see.

“Kirin, would you please excuse Cain and I for a moment? We have a matter to discuss. There are refreshments downstairs in the reading nook.” Kirin bowed his head in acknowledgment, winking at his son as he walked by. Gwyn placed a delicate hand on his shoulder. “Thank you. This won’t take long.”

“You kids take all the time you need.”

He vanished out of sight down the hall and into the basement. The door could just be heard latching with a slight click, the otherwise quiet sound plainly audible in the stillness of the house.

“Gwyn…” began Cain. “Your hair! It’s – “

“Exactly as it should be. But that isn’t important right now. Empty your pockets. You know exactly what I’m looking for.”

Cain certainly did know, and he produced a finely crafted white-gold band inlaid with a large emerald from his trousers. The cut and polished gem shone brilliantly in the voluminous candlelight, twinkling on the open palm of his hand.

“Oh!” exclaimed Gwyn, raising a petite hand softly to her mouth. “Cain, it’s beautiful!”

“You deserve nothing less.” He reached for her left hand and gently slid the ring onto a waiting finger. “Gwyndala Louvain, nothing would make me happier than to have you as my bride. Do you accept this offering of my heart, my life, to be entwined forever with your own?”

“Of course I [censored] do!”

Cain stooped to kiss his fiancé and nothing else in the world mattered in that moment. And had his father not been resigned to waiting in the cellar, their celebration would have moved to the bedroom in short order. Instead, Cain tore himself away from bliss and ran a hand through Gwyn’s curly locks.

“Never thought I’d see this on you again,” he smiled. “And I can feel how at peace you are. You must tell me what happened with you and Lady Mara.”

“Another time, love. Let’s go tell your father the news.”

-----

For all the noise and clamor of celebration echoing through the lower halls of the Blue Palace passersby might have thought an early and roaring Saturnalia party was underway. The kitchen fires were relit and enough food for a small feast was carted out along with the finest vintages of wine and brandy. Casks of mead were broached, and crystal goblets reserved for royal events were filled to the brim and clinked together joyously as the Windborne family and their divine matriarch toasted the newly engaged couple. And somewhere in the western Reach the cold ashes of a campfire and a small token hung in the low branches of a fir tree were the only remnants of a paused journey.

Gwyndala Louvain was the life of the party, showing off the ring of her betrothed and blushing while her soon to be sisters and mother fawned over the true color of her hair. No longer did it shift from blue to black to red to green or to white at the behest of a tortured soul as it had for so many long years.

“Can you still change it if you want to?” asked Linneá. “Could be a fun party trick if you have control over it.”

Scrunching up her face in concentration, Gwyn gave it her all but after a few seconds, she ceased the attempt with a shrug. “Doesn’t feel like it and I’m fine with that.”

“I don’t blame you, sis,” said Serana. “I’ve never seen you so happy and I’ll never not be thankful that Elle thought to ask on your behalf for Mara’s aid. I love you, and I’m looking forward to the three of us sharing many long years together.”

“It’s good to hear you say that,” winked Gwyn, “because I want you at my side when Cain and I are wed. I’ll never forget how you bared your own soul to me all those weeks ago when I felt so low.”

They shared a tearful embrace while Linneá patted her wife gently on the back before moving off in search of her brother. When Gwyn and Serana separated to dab at their eyes, Lydia joined them with three new drinks and began to examine the dress Gwyn wore. Many of the seams were stitched back together with slightly off-color threads, and several folds were pinned over to hide frayed and patchy sections of the thing fabric.

“Hm, this won’t do at all, dear,” she frowned. “How long have you had this dress?”

“[censored], I’m not even sure, Mrs. Windborne. It was Aunt Marcie’s.”

“We’ll have you visit the seamstress when you return from your journey with Linneá. You’re far too elegant to don so many of the careworn clothes I’ve seen you wear. Oh, and we’ve been through this already – call me Lydia. Or mum, if you prefer.”

Gwyn nearly wilted in delight and almost fell into Lydia’s arms, but she took a deep breath to keep her composure before defending her choice of wardrobe in a most Gwyn-like manner. “I’ll whatever I damn well please… mum.”

Lydia beamed from ear to ear and squeezed Gwyn tightly to her.

Across the room, Cain sat with his father, sister, and Kyne, sipping from a frothy pint of mead while watching the women of the Windborne clan gossip and giggle endlessly with each other. He couldn’t help but notice the absence of Salihn, and he wondered where the little one had gotten to.

“She was asleep already when you return to tell Lydia the news, dear,” said Kyne. “The girls didn’t want to take her.”

“That’s a shame,” said Cain. “I’m sure Gwyn would love to see her.”

“She can come say goodnight before you two leave,” said Linneá. “Salihn’ll get a kick out of that.”

“There will be plenty of time for all of that,” promised Kirin. “You’re almost done visiting the hold capitals, Cain, and my daughters will also reach their destination before too long. Hopefully we will have the answers we need ere the depths of winter set in.”

]“You won’t have anything for me to do after I’ve met the Jarls?” asked Cain. That surprised him. He assumed there would be no shortage of things to do in preparation to succeed his father.

“Nothing important. You and Gwyn deserve some time to yourselves, and I mean to give it to you.”

That certainly was an enticing idea to Cain. Hunkering down at Elysium until spring broke sounded like a wonderful notion that the two of them would thoroughly enjoy; and they were always within reach of those they loved with the cast of a spell. Only Windhelm and Riften remained far off for his grand tour. He had purposely saved Whiterun for last with it being so close to home.

Linneá and Kyne struck up a conversation with him before Cain got further lost in thought, leaving the king to his own devices.

Kirin took a pull from his mead and studied Gwyn. The differences since they last saw each other appeared subtle but altogether remarkable. Cain’s earlier promise that her blunt tendencies and lack of inhibition were truly what made Gwyn tick had never been more obvious to him, but what highlighted it the most to Kirin was that he no longer saw the brooding grimaces, or flashes of despair that would usurp her normally confident and purposeful features. His family was growing and becoming more complete and certain of themselves. Nothing could make a father prouder.

The drinking, celebrating, feasting, and mingling continued on towards the morning hours, but like all good things, the night did eventually come to and end, and after a final toast from Kirin they all retired in pairs, save for Kyne, to the intimate privacy of the bedroom. Adventures would continue the next day, and one of them in particular would strive forth with a new outlook.

-----

A door slammed shut behind two figures shrouded in darkness. With the lack of candle or moonlight penetrating the still air of the bedroom an observer would not be able to tell where one of those figures began and where the other ended. At least, not until a stray leg caught the edge of a low table and a man grunted in pain.

“[censored] that hurt,” Cain grimaced, sitting down on the table to rub the sore spot on his shin. “Give me a second and I’ll light the timber in the fireplace.”

Gwyn didn’t respond but he did hear a faint rustling sound from beyond his vision, and then the dim glow of her tattoos revealed themselves just beyond his reach. Before he could stand back up, she climbed onto his lap and kissed him in the darkness. His hand explored her bare skin while their lips remained together, and when she finally pulled back Gwyn once again stopped Cain from standing up and carrying her to the bed.

“Just wait a moment,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to run into anything else.” She raised a hand in the gloom and her empty palm filled with flickering flames that cast a fireball into the waiting fuel of the stone fireplace. Light danced across the room illuminating Cain’s utterly captivated face.

“Gwyn…”

“I know who I am now, Cain Windborne. And I’m all yours for the rest of our lives.”

-----

When the bright sun of early morning came, Cain seriously contemplated stepping outside the estate to use his Storm Call Thu’um in a vain attempt to prolong the time he could remain in bed with Gwyn. They were soon to awaken and go their separate ways once more; Cain regrouping with palace guards for the journey to Windhelm, and Gwyn recalling to the talisman alongside Linneá.

But they still had a few moments that he did not want to end. Her small frame was pressed against him, and he breathed in the rosy scent of her hair longingly until her eyelids fluttered open and Gwyn yawned peacefully.

“Ugh. Do we have to get up?” se said.

“Wish we didn’t,” sighed Cain. “But duty calls.”

"Don’t [censored] remind me. I’d have frozen solid outthere were it not for Linn’s handy warmth spell. At least I can light [censored] on fire now, too. Small victories, I suppose.”

“There’s nothing small about that,” said Cain. He fell silent for a moment while trying to catch a wispy thought he’d awoken with earlier but couldn’t seem to remember what it was. It had been teasing the edge of his consciousness since Gwyn’s return, yet still eluded him.

Gwyn felt his brow furrowing and took a peek in his mind to see if she could help jostle his memory. “Oh,” she giggled. “That. I figured you’d ask at some point.”

With her aid, he suddenly remembered their brief exchange while he was far away in Winterhold. How could they have spoken when Mara had put her to sleep for well over a day to let her mind wrestle with the coarse web the divine had helped to unweave?

“You’re fretting over nothing,” said Gwyn. “She woke me up so that I could eat something but kept the details hidden from you until I was ready. Actually, she got a little cross with me when she realized we were speaking mentally. I think she was trying to prevent any outside influence while I struggled with myself.”

“How did she manage that?”

“No idea. Something or other about dampening our link. You know how the Divines are.”

Satisfied that he didn’t imagine the entire thing, Cain sighed and tossed aside the heavy down blanket they were snuggled under and was about to sit up when Gwyn laid a hand across his chest. “I didn’t say you could go anywhere.” She craned her neck up to kiss him while that very same hand busied itself with something further down. “You still owe me a child, idiot.”