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 XXXI – A Tense Meeting


Anilay felt more than a little apprehensive when the basement door of Luther Broad’s Boarding House opened and he began his descent down the dusty wooden steps. He was not at all sure how this encounter would unfold, or if they would even be there, especially since some of his more recent actions directly harmed Cain and his family. But he hoped the man would still be willing to listen, even if he was well within his right to end the High Chancellor’s life right then and there.

Thankfully, they were indeed sitting around a small pub table at the center of the room, with a bottle of wine and three mugs at the ready. Cain watched Anilay closely as he approached while Anska picked at her fingernails, seemingly bored of the entire matter. Glancing around to make sure no one else was present, Anilay gestured towards the empty seat and Cain nodded.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” said Anilay. “I’m sure my sudden arrival by the temple was a little disconcerting, but quite frankly I was stunned to find you there. There are a lot of men out searching for you since your disappearance and I never expected you to be so far west already. Or that you’d come to such a dangerous place at all. Er, dangerous for you, that is.”

“Why exactly are they, or rather, you, searching for me?” Cain asked. “Is it not bad enough that my own family hunts us down on false accusations? Now I have to worry about the empire gunning for us, as well?”

Frowning, Anilay leaned back in his chair a little bit to entice a more relaxed atmosphere between the three of them. He uncorked the bottle of wine and filled his cup to the brim, and then offered it to Cain and Anska. Two more cupfuls were poured in short order before he took a sip and soldiered on.

“Mede has been after you since you were revealed as Dragonborn,” said Anilay. “At first, he just coveted your power for his own inner circle. Now, he just wants your father’s heir out of the picture.”

A small clatter in the dim corner behind Anilay startled him slightly. Craning his neck around, he noticed a set of calipers had toppled over and hit the stone floor at the base of an empty barrel. Atop the barrel sat a little mouse staring curiously about the room.

“Damn vermin,” said Anilay, shaking his head. “Luther usually runs a tighter ship. I’ll make sure he takes care of that before you go to sleep tonight. Anyway… as you can imagine, the Emperor is sparing no expense to find you. Luckily, I have been working with the Elder Council to locate you first, so it was quite a nice surprise to stumble upon you this afternoon.”

“I see,” said Cain. “So then, are you two also the reason why my sisters were attacked, and why an Ayleid village was burned to the ground with no survivors?”

“The former, no. The latter... yes, unfortunately.”

There was a sudden flurry of movement and before Cain could intervene, Anska had stood up and brought her axe down on the table in a metallic blur, cleaving Anilay’s wooden cup in two and burying the axe head in the table where it stood quivering, only a hair’s breadth from his left hand. Glaring intensely at the chancellor, she plucked her axe free from the table and used it to lift his chin until his eyes met hers.

“We had to walk through that village and pray for the slaughtered and innocent men, women, and children that we found,” she whispered menacingly at him. “Think carefully about what you still have to say or the next thing my axe bisects will be your head pompous Imperial head.” She sat back down and winked at Cain, who sighed and shook his head.

“Look, I’m not proud of what I’ve been forced to do in Mede’s service,” sputtered Anilay. “But an order from the Emperor is not something one can refuse. And even if I did, he would simply have the guards kill me, and then he’d bring in someone who will carry it out. The best I can manage is to mitigate damage when possible. The Thalmor were ordered to stop you from finding the wild elves, and I didn’t think they stood a chance against a Dragonborn. When I’d heard that they instead had laid waste to the village…”

Anska made to rise again, but Cain placed a hand on her shoulder and patted it gently. Then he got up and walked to the small pantry near the stairs, grabbed a new mug, and set it down in front of Anilay. Cain poured another measure of wine for the man, smiled at the mouse in the corner, and took his seat across from Anilay again, this time regarding him more carefully. He’d given a fair answer to a hard question, and he did so without seeming like a prototypical politician.

“We can move on for now,” said Cain. “You wanted to find us? Well, here we are. I’m sure you are wondering what the hell we are doing here in the first place, but you’ll have to explain your own intentions before we go any further.”

The High Chancellor took a much deeper pull from his fresh cup of wine and savored the vintage while pondering on just how much he wanted to reveal. Deciding to start small, he offered something that, unbeknownst to him, Cain and Anska already knew: “Right then. Are you aware that your father’s inner circle has a mole?”

“Quite aware, yes,” laughed Cain. “We are unsure of who it is exactly, but they’ve made things unpleasant for Anska and I. In fact, the only reason we decided to be here for this little meeting is because I intend to root out this mysterious informant, with or without your help.”

“Interesting,” admitted Anilay. “I take it your entire reason for being in the Imperial City is to find that out? I would also assume your next move would be to press me on who it is, but I cannot help you there. Mede has his own personal contacts that even I am not privy to, and he refuses to divulge all of his secrets to anyone.”

“Oho, so it’s the old man himself who seeks to divide us!” Cain grinned, triumphantly. “And here we thought for sure that the Thalmor would have something to do with it. I’m disappointed to hear that, but it doesn’t surprise me. From what I’ve heard, the Emperor has grown very paranoid in his old age.” Cain frowned as the new excitement vanished and was replaced with an even grimmer foreboding. “That makes things all the more difficult now, though. Infiltrating the Dominion headquarters was daunting enough...”

“You’re much braver than I if you planned on strolling into their embassy and rummaging through their files,” said Anilay. “That would have been suicide.”

“Suicide would be ignoring the problem,” said Anska. “You want to help us? Get Cain and I inside your fancy tower, and we’ll put the squeeze on these special agents your boss uses.”

Her last words hung in the air for a moment while Anilay considered the ramifications of aiding them in such a way. Secreting the two most wanted people in Cyrodiil around the White-Gold Tower would be nigh impossible, and would likely cause his own ruin if they were found out. The answers they sought would no doubt be locked within the Emperor’s private study, which only increased the odds of complete failure.

Cain and Anska watched him expectantly, wondering where this meeting would go next. It had been somewhat fruitful already, but they had a feeling that the man sitting before them yearned to be more helpful than he was letting on.

Deciding to try a sweeter approach, Anska cleared her throat and interrupted his reverie. “Hate to break your train of thought, but I feel I owe you an apology for threatening you before.” She smiled brightly at him and made a show of tossing her axe across the room and out of her reach. “You’ll have to forgive me for being a little protective of those that I love.”

“It’s understandable,” he replied, one eyebrow raised slightly at her change in demeanor. “And please don’t take my callousness towards these events as uncaring. I’ve a lot of regrets in my life and that’s why I’m here with you two now.”

“Well, then let’s help each other,” said Anska. “You seem to have an interest in doing right by us, even if you are playing it close to the vest. You’ve already willingly given us some important information that you thought might help us, so why the song and dance? My gut tells me there is far more at work here than Cain and I could possibly know, so if our desires happen to align, why not strike a deal?”

Anilay chewed thoughtfully on his lip. “There is a certain wisdom in that, but I’d have to speak to some friends on the council first. I will make no promises, though.”

“Fair enough,” said Cain. “Shall we meet back here in say… two days’ time?”

“Meet back here? Do you intend on leaving?”

“Oh yes,” answered Cain. “We are not hiding in a cellar like sitting ducks.” Anilay opened his mouth to protest but Cain raised a hand and cut him off. “No one will see us leave, nor will anyone be able to find us. You have my word.”

“Your word it is, then,” nodded Anilay. “This time, two days from now, yes? Very good.”

The High Chancellor rose from his seat and bid them farewell before heading back upstairs and out into the city. Seconds later, Kyne emerged from the shadows and took the vacated seat across from her children and sighed wearily.

“I don’t like the idea of you two infiltrating the Tower,” she admitted. “It’s too dangerous.”

“We need answers, mum,” said Cain. “And this is how we can get them. The man seems genuine and he may be able to help us in more ways than one. It’s like Anska said before: there is a bigger picture we aren’t privy to, and I suspect it involves all of us. Here and back home.”

“I think you are right, dear,” said Kyne. “I touched on his mind briefly and there was no malice towards you. Maybe a touch of hope, I dare say.” She fell silent for a moment and then perked back up again. “So, where will you go, if you don’t plan on staying here? Which is a move I completely agree with, by the way – much too exposed here.”

“Back to Anvil. A campsite on the coastline sounds lovely, don’t you think, Anska?”

“It does indeed, darling.”

-----

A light breeze fluttered through an open window of the Blue Palace, many stories above the highest rooftop in Solitude. Cloudy skies obscured the summer glow of Masser and Secunda, bathing the land in a dim summer night. It was almost midnight but a dull orange light illuminated a spacious bedroom, the flames of a large chandelier dancing in the light zephyr. Two lightly robed women were sprawled across a plush four-poster bed, snoring heavily into the nighttime air.

Linneá awoke with a start when a voice spoke directly into her mind.

Are you awake, child?

I am now, mum. Not so damn loud next time, yeah?

Sorry, but I tried whispering a few times first. That usually works well enough.

Er, Serana and I may have killed a bottle of Firebrand earlier. Keep that to yourself though – dad still won’t legalize it.

Your secrets safe with me, Linn. I just wanted to let you know that your target isn’t a Thalmor operative, but an Imperial agent instead. Their identity is known only to Mede, though. For now.

For now?

Cain and Anska are working on it. Give them time.

Okay. Thank you, mum, and send them my love.

Always.

Their silent conversation ended, Linneá rolled over and fumbled for the pitcher of water left on the nightstand and took a few deep gulps of it. Then she snuggled up to Serana and closed her eyes again, trying to regain the deep slumber the wine had imposed upon her.

“Uh uh, you don’t get to just come in all lovey dovey after you two shouted in our heads for five minutes,” grumbled Serana. “I was having a wonderful dream involving the two of us and a distinct lack of clothing before all of that started.”

“I think I was having the same dream,” sighed Linneá. “Want to recreate it?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

-----

Breakfast the next morning was a delicious affair, as it always was at their regal home. Linneá and Serana, despite having a late night, managed to shamble in only a few minutes later than usual. They helped themselves to over-sized mugs of coffee while the waiting staff piled up their plates with poached duck eggs, crispy bacon, and freshly baked bread still warm from the ovens. Linneá was slathering honeyed butter over a slice when Lydia cleared her throat meaningfully.

“Morning ladies. Did you remember your promise to me for today?”

Linneá nodded and swallowed a bite of egg. “No, we didn’t forget, mum. We’ll spend some time with Salihn this afternoon – Ana and I are thinking about taking her down to the shoreline to let her splash around in the sea for an hour or two. I think she’ll love that.”

“Good. I take it that was your idea, Serana?”

“Not at all, mum. Elle, was bouncing ideas off of me for a few hours last night before she settled on that one in particular. She’s really come around on this unique situation we’ve ended up in. It’s quite endearing, if I’m being honest.

“I’m right here ya know,” said Linneá. “It’s rude to speak about me as if I’m not.”

“Sorry, sweetie,” said Serana apologetically. “It has been nice to see though, especially since you spiraled a little bit after the little one came to thank us.”

“Can’t be helped,” grinned Linneá. “She is just so damn cute.”

Kirin hadn’t said anything thus far, though he couldn’t help but agree with his daughter’s assessment of the Ayleid girl. “Aye, that she is. You two did a wonderful thing in bringing her back here. I still can’t believe my own son left her there unconscious like that. I expected better of him.”

“We all did, dad,” said Serana. “But I choose to believe that he knew we’d take care of her. Besides, love has a way of blinding us to the obvious sometimes. We’ll find him and Anska, we promise.”

The matter settled, they resumed eating amid a much lighter atmosphere while catching each other up on how life was unfolding in the palace walls. Lydia sat back and couldn’t help but smile gently, her eyes lingering on Linneá. Deep down, she’d always known there was a good mother in there, buried beneath years of staunch independence. She’d just needed a little push in the right direction.

This post has been edited by Kane: Apr 28 2025, 07:21 PM