Season Unending, The Children of Kyne, Vol. III Options

[Kane]

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Content warning: this story should be considered 18+. Sexual content is present, but never described, and I don't shy away from foul language (though it seems to be censored). There is also darker content further in regarding sexual assault.

Prologue
It could be said that Skyrim was a cold, harsh land, unforgiving to outsiders and barely tolerant of anyone but a true Nord. Fortunately, those times have passed, and the sun shines brightly upon a healing landscape. The scars of civil war and dragon crises fading to memory as a new High King and his court sought to pull the land up from the depths of a crumbling Empire. An Empire in name only, its once powerful alliance spanning the entirety of Tamriel, now relegated to Cyrodiil (or the Heartland, as the Nibenese and Colovian nobles preferred to call it), High Rock, and, of course, Skyrim.

But now Skyrim stood to rise above the rest, and usher in a new era for a floundering society that still scurried from the inevitable boot of the Aldmeri Dominion. Hope began to inflame the hearts of men, for the Dragonborn King was rumored to be setting his sights upon the Ruby Throne, and the weak Mede Dynasty that occupied it. From his palace in Solitude, forces were directed and diplomats dispatched as the pawns of war moved slowly but surely. The Dominion was forced out of Skyrim with an ultimatum, and the land was finally back under the full rule of the Nords, as it ought to be.

The year is Two Hundred Twenty-nine of the Fourth Era, and the gears of war have started to turn, as the land braces itself for the Second Great War that was always to come. It was also the year that a mid-level member of the Anvil chapter of the Fighter’s Guild was loaned to the storied Companions of Jorrvaskr, in the city of Whiterun. This talented young warrior of Redguard descent suddenly found himself sailing to a strange land and leaving behind the only home he ever knew. Little remained for him in Anvil after the passing of his mother, so he looked forward to a new chapter of his life, far from the painful memories of home.

The first mate, a stout Imperial named Janius, approached the young Redguard with a roll of parchment and a quill. “Name?”

“Cain. No surname.”

“No surname?” inquired the First Mate. “How can that be, young man? I have it here that you were born and raised in Anvil, and joined the Fighter’s Guild when you came of age. Your mother is listed as Ariessa Janeel, also of Anvil. Do you not share her name?”

“In the absence of my father, she did not bestow it upon me.”

“Bastard then, eh? Unfortunate, but I see it all the time. What is your business in Skyrim?”

“On loan to The Companions. For what reason I do not yet know, but I will follow my orders from the guild and my future employers.”

“An honorable attitude for a young warrior, mister Cain. It’s a long voyage to the port of Solitude, so all we ask is that you remain civil and pitch in a helping hand when required.”

Cain nodded and the first mate moved on to speak with a different passenger. It was indeed a long voyage, filled with many sleepless nights while the ship bobbed and rocked on the choppy waters of the sea. The occasional storm would blow in and everyone from the captain to the lowest deckhands were grim-faced and determined as they struggled to keep the passengers safe from the onslaught of high waves and powerful winds. Nearly a full month passed before they sailed beneath the great arch of Solitude and nestled the ship into the port. All hands helped to moor the ship before the passengers eagerly disembarked in a new land.

A tall Dunmer man of middle years stood in wait on the pier, clad in worn hide armors with a longsword slung across his back. Years of experience lined his weathered face, eyes deep set and wary as he scanned the faces off all those who set foot off of the ship. When Cain approached the man, he flagged the Redguard down and directed him off to the side.

“You must be Cain,” he said. “Fresh from Anvil, yes? My name is Athis and I’ve been sent by our Harbinger to retrieve you. The Companions welcome your aid, but we have a long journey to Whiterun yet. Ordinarily I would accompany you south on foot, but we are already short-handed and will be taking a carriage.”

“Nice to meet you, Athis. Lead the way �" this is a strange land for me and I defer to your judgement.”

They shook hands and departed the port at a quick trot. A carriage sat in wait along the road to the capital city, and soon after Athis handed the driver a bag of Septims, the were trundling along the road to Dragon Bridge, headed for the southern road to Whiterun Hold and Jorrvaskr �" the legendary mead hall of The Companions. Despite being in an unfamiliar land, Cain found himself excited at the prospect of these new horizons and the change of pace from the last few months of misery that followed the death of his mother. He bowed his in prayer for her before striking up a conversation with Athis.

“So, what’s it like being in The Companions?” he asked. “Are things much different from the Fighter’s Guild?”

“Oh yes, quite different. Every man or woman in The Companions is their own. We have no leaders, just a Harbinger who is wise in counsel and offers a guiding hand. There are no ranks to elevate to and no coveted positions to fight for. We take the jobs we must and your shield-siblings will be ready to stand with you. Honor is valued above all else.”

“Interesting. I must admit, the lack of politics seems hard to believe. Everything is so much about rank and station in the guild that often times our true purpose is forgotten when the infighting picks up. Jobs go unanswered in the chaos and brawls turn deadly over simple differences of opinion. I might end up staying here for a long time if life is to be more peaceful in that regard.”

Athis chuckled. “While we do strive to rise above such petty squabbles, you’ll soon find that Jorrvaskr is anything but peaceful. However, our brawls usually end with hearty pats on the back and consuming copious amounts of mead, rather than misery and death!”

“Sounds like a dream come true, Athis.”

“That’s a very Nordic attitude, young one. Are you sure you’re a Redguard?”

“The color of my skin betrays that,” laughed Cain. “But who knows, maybe my father was a Nord, whoever he may be.”

The Dunmer smiled and their conversation moved onto other topics. Athis went over the finer points of The Companions with him and eventually moved onto the current political climate and powers that be in Skyrim. Cain listened with rapt attention, absorbing all the he could to avoid any run-ins with local laws and to avoid misunderstandings, no matter how small they could be. Just as the sun began to set, the carriage pulled into a small village and ground to a halt. Orthar, the driver, dismounted and told them they would continue on in the morning. Cain and Athis hopped down from the wagon and followed him into the local tavern, the Frostfruit Inn.

“This is the village of Rorikstead,” said Athis. “A fine place to spend the night. Grab us some mead and I’ll see about getting a meal. No sense in sleeping on an empty stomach.”

He left the inn as Cain was ordering a few pints of mead and a loaf of bread to munch on. Experience had taught the young man never to consume spirits on an empty stomach, and so he found a table off to the side and chewed on the crusty loaf while he awaited Athis’ return. Ten minutes later, his fellow Companion reentered the tavern with a basket of fruit in one hand and a bundle of skewered meats in the other. They ate and drank their fill while continuing to discuss the ins and outs of Jorrvaskr well into the night.

Dawn brought forth cloudy skies and the smell of rain upon the air as the carriage rumbled off onto the road, resuming their journey to Whiterun. By late afternoon, the two men were approaching the gates of the tundra city, and making their way through the bustling marketplace. They passed the local tavern and ascended a flight of stairs whereupon Cain was greeted with a breathtaking sight �" the Gildegreen was in full bloom before his eyes and the immense beauty of the towering tree froze him in his tracks as the wind gently whistled through its branches.

“Aye, a sight to see, eh?” remarked Athis. “Little matches the serene beauty of our mighty tree, blessed by the Goddess Kyne herself. That’s her temple there and the priestess' maintain the tree and those who seek her guidance within.”

“It’s amazing,” sighed Cain. “There is nothing quite as lovely in all of Cyrodiil.”

“Yeah, well, the Imperials already think too highly of themselves. Divines know they don’t deserve such a wonderful symbol as our Gildegreen. Let’s move on now �" Jorrvaskr is just over there.”

Continuing on, Cain and Athis soon stepped through the solid wood doors of the legendary mead hall and were met with the raucous din of the main dining area where shield siblings dined heartily and drank merrily, roaring with laughter and swapping exaggerated stories of their noble deeds. Athis steered him through the hall and down a small flight of stairs to a much quieter living area, with bedrooms lining the underground corridor. The walls were adorned with centuries of decorations ranging from trophy kills to impressive weapons to woven tapestries and ancient, tattered flags. At the far end of the hall two men sat around a small table and were deep in conversation, only noticing their approach at the last minute.

The smaller of the two large men rose to greet them. “Athis, I see you’ve returned with our new shield-brother!” He turned to the Redguard and offered a hand for Cain to shake. “Cain, yes? Welcome to Jorrvaskr! I’m Vilkas, Harbinger of The Companions, and the silent one here is my brother Farkas. He may look intimidating but I promise he is more bark than bite!” Vilkas roared with laughter and sat back down as Farkas greeted Cain.

“Pleasure to meet you, brother,” rumbled the towering Nord. He sat back down and resumed his stony silence while Vilkas spoke again.

“No trouble, then, Athis?”

“None at all. The land seems quiet for a change.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that. But it’s getting late now �" you two head upstairs and eat. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow!”

Athis and Cain took their leave of the Harbinger, and his silent brother, and headed back to the dining hall for a good meal and plenty of mead. All in all, Cain was looking forward to being counted among the ranks of such proud, jovial warriors. Jorrvaskr was everything the Fighters Guild was not, and his mind was made up in short order �" tomorrow he would pen a letter to his chapter leader and tender his resignation. But the night was still relatively young, and after stowing what little gear he had under a vacant bed, Cain met Athis upstairs in the great hall.

They ate, drank, and sang well into the night as Cain made the rounds and was introduced to his shield-siblings. More than a few were young like him, and he could not help but eye up some of the female warriors among the ranks, especially Thea, a tall blonde Nord that shared the same birthyear as Cain. He lingered next to her the longest and was in awe at how much mead she could knock back with the rest of the burly men seated around Jorrvaskr. By midnight the two of them had slid out the back door and were getting to know each other better in the moonlit gardens.

The next day came earlier than Cain, still sleeping off the merriment and escapades from the night before, had expected it to. Farkas strode into his room just after sunrise and threw a dossier at him before barking out the Redguard’s first orders.

“Read that and then come find me in the mead hall. You’re heading to Falkreath today and we need to find you a shield-sibling to watch your back, and see what you can do. Don’t tarry, it’s a long walk to Falkreath and the sun is already up.”

Cain sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before leaving his warm bed and heading for the bathroom. He checked himself in the mirror before leaving and sighed at the long scratches Thea had left on the side of his face. Farkas had likely noticed them, too, but it was probably nothing new to the seasoned Companion. He splashed some water on his faced, headed back to general quarters, got dressed, and went upstairs for his first assignment.

This post has been edited by Kane: May 6 2025, 01:14 PM

[Kane]

Chapter XXIX �" Into the Heartland


Towering stone walls loomed high above Cain and Anska as they approached the massive wooden gates of Skingrad’s western entrance. The immense breadth of the city took the Nord woman’s breath away �" nothing in her homeland resembled the size and might of this fortified city deep within Cyrodiil’s West Weald. Even the capital city of Solitude barely approached the splendor that now stood before her. But she also had never felt further from home.

Home, she thought to herself. I wonder if I’ll ever see it again.

“I promise that you will,” reassured Cain.

“Oh, sorry,” muttered Anska. “I still forget sometimes that you can hear thoughts like that now. Don’t worry about me, love. I’m a fish out of water down here, just as I’m sure you were the moment you set foot on the Solitude docks.”

“You’re not wrong about that. But this time I have you and you have me.” They had now trod through the gates and were meandering along a cobblestone road that bisected the city. Cain led them under a bridge and then up a road to the left that headed for the market district. “West Weald Inn is just ahead. We’ll get a proper meal and a good night’s sleep for a change.”

It was late evening on the eight day of their trek to the Imperial City, and the inn was bustling with activity. Merchants, traders, craftspeople, and residents of Skingrad were pouring in through the doors and saddling up to the bar for a rambunctious night of food and libations. Cain and Anska had grabbed a table near the stairs, away from the throng of people packed around the bar.

Nursing a weak mead, Anska studied a brass plaque on the wall above their table. “Any idea who that was?” she asked her fiancé.

Cain followed her gaze. “Sinderion? Famous alchemist, I think. Heard he was found dead deep under Skyrim of all places. Maybe he was from Skingrad? Serana would probably know for sure.”

Their food soon arrived and they dug into the sumptuous meal with a zeal born of lean eating on the long road east. The haughty waitress keeping tabs on their table stopped by frequently to refill their mugs and ask how they were enjoying “real food”. Anska nearly slammed her head off the table until Cain reminded her that they still looked out of place. A Nord and a Redguard passing through town in filthy armors tended to catch the eye of those who viewed themselves as nobility.

Luckily, Cain has been able to procure a room downstairs, complete with a bathing area. Nighttime was firmly entrenched outside when they’d decided to make use of said bath, but then a stranger sat down at the table with them and pulled down her hood.

The soft features of Mara were just barely recognizable from their last encounter with the goddess of Love and Compassion in Blacklight. Her blonde hair now had a slight curl, but her blue eyes still blazed brightly from a face more muted to blend in among mortals.

“Hello again, children,” she spoke softly to them. “I see you have elected to ignore my warnings, and those of Kyne’s, as well?”

“I, er, well,” began Cain. He glanced at Anska for help, but she was also caught off guard at Mara’s sudden reappearance, her mouth slightly agape while she stared in wonder.

“You needn’t try to justify your actions. I’m all too familiar with what love will drive people to do, though I had hoped you could find a measure of restraint.” She paused to smile warmly at them. “I won’t admonish you any further. And I am pleased to see how far the two of you have come �" engaged to be wedded, and a child on the way? It fills me with joy to see it.”

“That’s… thank you, ma’am,” said Anska. “Look, I’m sorry we ignored you for our own selfish desires, but it has made us closer than I ever thought possible. I love this man dearly and I wouldn’t hesitate to do it all again.”

“I appreciate your honesty, miss Anska. However, your journey is not over yet and there is still peril ahead of you both. It’s a dangerous path you walk and you must remain true to each other as you have thus far. I offer one more piece of advice: stay by each other’s side no matter what. Only together can you face what is to come, and stand tall at the end.”

Having said her piece, Mara excused herself from the table and left the inn as silently as she had entered. Cain and Anska stared after the goddess, still slightly in shock at her sudden and abbreviated appearance in Skingrad of all places.

Shaking his head, Cain downed the last of his wine and flagged down the waitress. He paid for their meal and then motioned to the basement door. “Fancy a soak? We can talk more about what just happened away from preening ears and prying eyes.” They made their way downstairs and were soon laying against one another in a steaming tub of water, enjoying the warmth as it eased their tired bodies.

Anska was feeling a measure of guilt from their impromptu meeting with Mara, and she couldn’t help but worry about the future. Her fingers swirled the soapy bubbles aimlessly while she wrestled with the implications of the goddess’ second visit.

“Cain?” she asked, softly.

“Hm?”

“Are you worried about…us? This is the third time we’ve been given some sort of cryptic warning about our fate together. We spat in the face of the Divines once already �" do you think we’ll come to regret it?”

“I’ll never regret what it’s given us,” he promised her. “From the moment I laid eyes on you in Stonehills I wanted nothing more than to be with you, Anska. I was devasted when we parted ways after High Gate, but when I found you again in the palace gardens nothing else seemed to matter. I was given another chance and I vowed to not to let you go again if I could help it. You and our unborn child are my entire world, and nothing will tear us down as long as there is breath in my body.”

She craned her neck up and kissed him. “You always know just what to say to make me feel better.” Then Anska looked down at his broad hand resting on her belly. “It’s way too early for you to be doing that,” she chuckled, laying her own hand on top of his. “I never thought I’d end up here, you know. I thought I’d be stuck hunting around home until I was old and gray, fending off the pigs that work in the iron mine. Then I kicked open Ikor’s door with a deer slung over my shoulder, and saw you sitting there with Athis, staring right at me.”

“I’d never seen anything so beautiful,” said Cain. “And when you laughed at my terrible pick-up line, I was yours forever. Your smile may not have actually melted the snow but it certainly melted my heart.”

“Oh, piss off!” laughed Anska, playfully smacking his shoulder. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“I never can when it’s you.”

Anska relaxed even more into the blissful waters and closed her eyes. She did feel better about Mara’s visit after talking to Cain about it, but she suspected it would always be at the back of her mind. Deciding it was better to be safe than to be sorry, she resolved to offering the goddess a prayer in the mornings when she also prayed to Lady Kyne.

-----

They were on the move again by sunrise, with a long way yet to go. A seemingly endless expanse of trees lined both sides of the well-traveled road, teeming with animals, dense undergrowth, and vibrant flowers that Anska didn’t recognize.

Cain seemed to recognize most of them, though, and he was constantly a petal here or a sprig there. His belt pouch was beginning to overflow from all the ingredients he was shoving into it.

“Do you really need all of that?’ she asked him after handful of Alkanet seeds spilled all over his boots.

“Never know when we’ll need to whip up a remedy,” said Cain. “I’m sure the girls were glad I had aloe and lavender on hand after you laid into them.”

Shaking her head, Anska continued on ahead of him, drinking in the lush, unfamiliar landscape as she rounded a bend in the road. Lost in the splendor of the Heartland, a brutish highwayman nearly caught her off guard when he leapt down from atop a small hillock, demanding she empty her pockets. Hearing the sudden clamor around the bend Cain dashed ahead only to find Anska wiping the blood from her axe on a fur armored corpse.

“Did he give you any trouble?”

“Not really,” replied Anska, examining her axe. “Looks like I nicked the blade on one of his rivets though. How long until we find a blacksmith?”

“At least another week, if we make good time. Skingrad was roughly the halfway point.”

“Suppose that’s what I get for not carrying a whetstone,” shrugged Anska. “Ah well.”

And on they went, winding eastwards towards Lake Rumare and the Imperial City.

-----

Far to the north, in their much colder homeland of Skyrim, things were not progressing nearly as well. Despite their best efforts, Linneá and Serana had yet to turn up anything to indicate Sybille Stentor, esteemed court wizard of Solitude, was up to anything nefarious. She kept a strict routine befitting of her secret condition and fulfilled her duties in service of Kirin to the letter.

Upon day after day after day of frustration, they decided to step back from the investigation for a while with hopes that a fresh start would help to illuminate something they had missed. Sitting on the floor of the palace gardens, they were both buried in rather large and archaic tomes on Mysticism, and did not notice that Lydia has arrived with the young Ayleid elf they’d rescued.

“Ahem.”

“Oh, hey mum,” said Linneá, her eyes moving up from the book. “What’s up?”

“Salihn here would like to say something to you ladies.”

They both closed their books and set them aside, but before either one of them could get to their feet Salihn had rushed forward and dove into Serana’s arms. “Thank you for saving me from the bad people!” she cried, her accent in the common tongue impeccable. “I looked for ages after they came to our village but I didn’t find anyone but you.” Serana returned the hug, smiling uncertainly at her wife.

“Mum, when did she start talking again?” asked a flummoxed Linneá. “She hasn’t made a peep since we brought her back with us!”

“Sybille and I have been working with her and she finally came out of her shell this morning. Poor thing was traumatized we think �" her entire village and all her family gone in the blink of an eye. But the first thing she asked for was to see you two. I think you’ve made a new friend!”

Salihn finally let go of Serana and then gave Linneá the same fierce embrace. The elf eventually unwrapped her arms from her, and offered each of them a freshly cut flower blossom before heading back inside with Lydia, leaving behind two very confused rescuers.

“What the hell just happened?” said Linneá, staring blankly at her flower.

“Um. Elle? You don’t think she… you know… “

A silence fell between them as the gravity of Serana’s timid attempt at a question settled on their minds. Linneá knew exactly where her wife was going with that train of thought and it terrified her. She was still staring at the flower: a newly sprouted pink carnation from Sybille’s private greenhouse. The significance of that particular blossom was not lost on her.

“No way,” said Lineá. “No no no. Ana, we can’t. I mean… we’ve talked about it, but, I, uh. There is no way we’re ready for that.”

“We aren’t? It’s not like we’re getting any younger. Nor can we do it the old-fashioned way.”

Linneá gazed absentmindedly towards the door Lydia and Salihn had disappeared through. “Maybe we’re reading too much into this?” she offered. “Poor girl probably just wanted to see who saved her again. Yeah, that’s probably all it was. Who knows what would have happened to her if we’d just left her behind.”

Serana watched her other half curiously, a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth. It had been a long time since she’d seen Linneá so nervous about something. Even the situation with Cain and Anska had left her more saddened than apprehensive. But she did have a point… maybe they were reading too much into it. Then again…

“For what it’s worth, Elle… I think you’d be a terrific mother.”