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 XXXIX �" First Impressions


“Yeah, no, we can’t get into that with you, mum,” said Cain, evasively.

Gwyn bit nervously at her fingernails. She had believed her friend completely when he first explained his unique relationship to Kyne, but a small part of her never imagined she’d actually be sitting across from one of the Divines in her own home. Nor did she expect him to outright refuse to answer a pointed question about anything, let alone their unhinged plan.

For her part, Kyne seemed completely nonplussed about his sharp refusal. “Should I be exceedingly worried about anything, my child? I can’t help but wonder if you shouldn’t be… persuaded to go home for a while, instead of living abroad with unknown intentions. I feel better about being able to keep tabs on you again, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe for you wander about Tamriel.”

“We’ll be fine, I promise. You know that I can handle myself, and trust me when I say that there is more to Gwyn here than meets the eye. I don’t even think Linn or Serana would want to be on her bad side.”

“Well, now,” said Kyne. “That’s certainly a ringing endorsement, miss Gwyn! I think you and I ought to get to know each other a little better!”

Gwyn blushed a deeper shade of red than Cain had ever seen before, and her hair changed from the utter black color she’d awoken with to a bright pink he learned early on denoted an embarrassed pleasure. “[censored] me, thank you. Oh, sorry about that, ma’am. Cain once told me that you’re used to his sister being crass, but he also had to double check that I wasn’t a sailor in a past life.”

“Think nothing of it, dear,” mused Kyne. “Although, I might take insult to someone insinuating I was a foul-mouthed cur from the sea port.”

“Oh, she did,” chuckled Cain. “Invited me to shove my head up my ass and then she ditched me near Shornhelm for a couple of days.”

“You deserved it.”

Kyne giggled at their familial banter and stole a quick peek into Cain’s psyche while he playfully jabbed back and forth with Gwyn. She was pleased to see a genuine contentedness settling down within, and began to understand why Cain didn’t feel an overwhelming need to return home just yet. His new friend was helping him heal, even if he didn’t recognize it for himself yet. She withdrew before he noticed, and just in time to hear Linneá’s voice whisper softly at her.

Can you spare an hour, mum? Dad is anxious to hear more about Cain.

On my way.

“Ahem,” said Kyne, politely clearing her throat. “Linn needs something, dearies. I’m heading back to Solitude for now but I’ll check in again later.”

Cain nodded, “I’ll keep an eye out for you, mum. Please tell my parents… well…” He suddenly found that he didn’t quite know what he wanted to convey. How does one apologize sincerely with just a few words relayed through another? ‘I’m sorry’ didn’t feel like enough to cut it, and yet Cain knew he had to offer something. “I…”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” assuaged Kyne. “I’ll make sure they understand.” She waved goodbye to them both, morphed into her hawk avatar, and soared out the front door.

Cain walked over to the doorway and watched her fly off into the distance until she was out of sight. After shutting the door and locking it, he turned back to Gwyn and shrugged nonchalantly. “That could have gone much worse than it did. I’ll have to thank Linn sometime for pulling her away before she could circle back to what we’re up to. She didn’t notice the books we’ve collected, did she?”

“You mean the ones I stashed in my dimensional storage? Obviously not, or she’d have blown her lid.” At this, Gwyn raised her hand and flexed her fingers into an odd symbol that summoned a small dark chest on the floor between them. “Maybe the next time I tell you to hide them better you’ll take me seriously, dumb ass. Although, it was amusing to see a goddess come in firing on all cylinders like that. I’m surprised she didn’t grab you by the ear and haul you back to Solitude herself! I see why you all refer to her as ‘mum’.”

Kneeling down and prying open the mysterious container, Cain began to pull out the volumes they’d been amassing over the last few weeks and laid them out in no particular order. He’d been halfway through one of the hefty tomes they’d found in Shornhelm before their trip to Wayrest and was eager to dive back in while Gwyn went outside to continue practicing her rituals. Finding it at last, he grabbed it and settled down near the window and buried his nose in its dense pages once again.

The hours flew by and the sun began to sink below the horizon, taking with it the light that beamed through the window of Gwyn’s cabin. Starving and unable to see the pages anymore, Cain went about fixing dinner for them. He was about to throw a hunk of persevered venison on the cooking spit when Gwyn’s earlier chastisement of his actions floated through his mind. Setting the meat down, he gathered up the books, tossed them into the chest, and gave it a swift kick to dematerialize it.

“And who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” said Gwyn, smugly. Cain hadn’t heard her come back in from outside and startled upright at the sound of her voice. “Hah, got ya that time, didn’t I? Need to pay more attention, Mr. Prince. Anyway, what are you burning for dinner this time, cause so far it just smells like [censored]…”

“Keep it up and it’ll be a meal for one,” replied Cain. “Or would you rather go back to grazing the way you did before I started cooking real food for you?” He slid the venison onto the spit and reached for a small box of spices resting on the mantle. The familiar pang of sadness and longing hit him full on while he rifled through Anska’s collection of herbs and seasonings, looking for the jar she’d labeled for venison steaks. Pulling it from the box, Cain unscrewed the lid and sprinkled copious amounts onto the rotating hunk of meat.

“Alright, you got me,” said Gwyn. “That is starting to smell pretty damn good. How’d your research go?”

“Not as many answers as I’d hoped for. What about you? Will you be ready when it’s time?”

“I’m always ready. Just make sure you work out the theory for me. All that timey-wimey bullshit makes my [censored] head spin. Dunno how I let you talk me into this madness.”

-----

(Three to four months ago…)


Gwyndala’s wrists were raw and bloody from the manacles that bound them tightly together. A rope lead had been tied to a leather collar wrapped tightly around her neck, and the disgusting brute of a man that dragged her onward did so with brutal intent. Two more foul-smelling pigs flanked her from both sides, and a fourth brought up the rear, prodding her every few seconds with the butt end of his spear. Her back was covered in bruises, and blood oozed from a deep gash on her cheek that she’d received from the initial struggle against her captors.

They’d come upon her in the dead of night and before she was even fully awake, Gwyn’s hands were bound, and a filthy gag that made her stomach turn had been stuffed into her mouth. Not knowing where she was being led, her terrified thoughts began to wander and eventually landed on the regret that she knew would rear its ugly head.

After traveling together for nearly a month, Gwyn had unceremoniously told Cain to get lost over what she now knew to be a trivial matter. The poor man had been grateful for her intervention outside of Evermore, and he just wanted to get to know her better. And she’d done nothing but shut him out and shut him down. Now he was gone, chased out by her unwillingness to connect with anyone, while she was trotted off like a prized slave to whatever grisly fate these bastards had in store for her.

It was near dawn when her feet nearly gave out beneath her from the long night of forced marching. Ready to collapse and beg for a break and some water, she exhaled a long sigh of relief when the bandits stopped in a clearing and decided to make camp for the day. They lashed her thin frame to a poplar tree at the edge of the forest and set about making a campfire. Gwyn’s head bobbed up and down with exhaustion. Every ounce of her body screamed for sleep but she didn’t dare let herself be more unguarded than she already was. She shook her head vigorously to keep herself from passing out, and that was when she noticed the asshole with the spear.

He was staring hungrily at her while the other three louts poured ale down their gullets and boasted loudly to each other over a frugal breakfast. Gwyn knew that look all too well and her insides froze when she locked eyes with that monster. He got up and slowly shuffled towards her, drawing a long steel dagger from his belt as he came nearer to the tree. She began to struggle furiously against the bindings in vain, desperately trying to get even a single hand free so that she could unleash hell on them with her magick. Nothing budged, and he grew ever closer until his hot, disgusting breath assaulted her nose. He raised the dagger and slowly slipped it down the front of her patchy robe until what remained of the garment fell to the ground, exposing her naked body to her tormentor.

Gwyn closed her eyes in fear and shook violently against the restraints. And then a curious sensation fell over her �" it was as if time itself slowed to a crawl, and every miniscule action seemed to draw on for uncounted moments. Her eyes eked back open and she flinched in horror at the sight of a dirty hand hovering a hair’s breadth above her exposed groin. Then a gleaming flash arced down in front of her and the hand slowly fell to the ground, severed cleanly above the wrist. Another flash, and the pig’s head fell to the ground at a comically slow pace.

Cain kicked the still falling brigand out of the way and rushed towards the other three men at normal speed. Within seconds, they all fell dead to his keen silver longsword, unable to react quick enough to mount even the most meager of defenses against his swift retribution. He sheathed the sword just as time sped back up, and then rushed to Gwyn’s side and began freeing her from captivity. The final cord snapped free and she collapsed into his waiting arms, sobbing heavily and shivering in the cold. Cain held her close with one arm and with the other he slid his pack to the ground and pulled out a blanket to wrap around the frightened and naked woman.

He consoled her for several minutes before leading her over to the crackling campfire and shoving the bandit corpses out of the way. They sat in silence for a bit while Cain handed her a canteen of water and started making a rudimentary stew from what little food he had on hand. A few moments later, Gwyn stood up and walked back over to the tree she’d been bound to and stared down at the headless man who had almost raped her. She bent over to pick up her ruined robes and Cain had to look away when the blanket fell to her feet. Draping it back over her shoulders, Gwyn grabbed some of the cord that had bound her to the tree and tied the remnants of her clothes back together.

Cain was about to call her back to eat something when her angry shrieks filled the morning air. She kicked and stomped at the lifeless body over and over again, spitting terrible insults at it, and spouting terrible curses over the man’s soul until she almost had enough. Cain saw the red magicks beginning to ignite in her hands and had to look away once again while her brutal spell ripped the flesh from his bones and scattered it about the edge of the clearing.

She marched back over to the fire and stood before Cain expectantly, covered from head to toe in blood and gore. “Take me home. Now. I need a bath.”

-----

The sun was just starting to burn off the morning dew when Gwyndala joined Cain at a small table outside of her cabin. She was wearing a far more modest set of robes with a flowy tasset hanging from her waist and she smelled of fresh primrose from her long soak in the tub. Her long curly hair was tied up in a hasty ponytail, and had turned a deep bloodred after the harrowing ordeal. Cain sipped at his coffee while she stared out over the moor.

“I, um… I don’t… ah, [censored]. Thank you, Cain,” she said. “You didn’t have to come back for me, especially after how I treated you. And yet you did anyway. For that, I’ll be forever grateful. Another few seconds and.. and…”

“Don’t dwell on it, Gwyn. It’s not worth the torment.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. How’d you find me anyway?”

“I never went very far after you told me to [censored] off. I figured I would just give you some time to cool off and then check back in the morning. Found your abandoned camp and followed the set of tracks that led away. It was obvious that something terrible had happened, so I double-timed it until I heard those idiots carrying on and making a ton of noise. My blood froze when I saw what was about to happen to you…”

Gwyn swallowed hard and tried to force the memories out of her mind. “I’m sorry I pushed you away,” she said. “Life hasn’t been easy for me and I never let anyone in. You were just trying to be friendly and I blocked you out entirely. I’m still not about to tell you my life story, but I won’t be such a bitch anymore. That’s the best I can offer for now.”

“How about we just call it even and see what happens from there?” said Cain.

“Deal.”

-----

(Present day….)

“As I recall, you were more curious about the implications of it than I was,” said Cain. “Your eyes lit up the moment I mentioned it.”

“From a practical standpoint, yes. I’m always looking to increase my grasp on magick and that particular brand of it has always been somewhat of a mystery. Can’t help but be curious.”

“Yeah, well…” Cain trailed off and glanced down at this forearm. The hairs were standing on end, and he felt a peculiar but all too familiar sensation overcome him. “Hm, Kyne must have given my family the rundown on us. You’re about to meet Linneá.”

“WHAT?!”

A flash of purple and white light briefly illuminated the dim cabin as Cain’s sister appeared in Gwyn’s home for the first time. She bore a set of black leather armor trimmed with crimson accents and steel studs that Cain had never seen before. The gauntlets on her wrist were also of forged steel and they flowed from her elbows down to razor-sharp points at the fingertips while a long leather skirt of the same accented deep red flowed out from her waist. It made her look very intimidating and Cain figured that was by design.

“Why, hello, brother,” said Linneá. “Care to tell me why you’ve been hiding your friend here from me during my visits of over the last few weeks?”

“Excuse me,” said Gwyn, “but who the hell are you to barge into my house uninvited? Do they not teach manners at the Blue Palace, Princess? Or are you just used to doing whatever the hell you please?”

Linneá studied her tiny frame up and down. “You’re Gwen, I take it?”

“Gwyndala Louvain, and you still haven’t answered my question. What the [censored] are you doing in my house?” She stared unblinkingly up into Linneá’s hazel eyes.

The taller than average Nord woman towered over the little Breton but Cain’s sister knew better than most that size didn’t betray anything. A gentle smile played at the edges of her mouth while she returned the gaze and she eventually broke the stony silence.

“You’re not afraid of anyone, are you, miss Gwyn? How is it that my brother here always finds the most interesting women while Serana and I are stuck dealing with the haughty bimbos that traipse through the palace? Linneá Windborne, pleased to meet you. And I do apologize for dropping in unannounced, but I just had to meet this mysterious new friend that Kyne told us about.”

The situation defused and Cain breathed a sigh of relief.

“Nice to meet you, too, Linn. I’ve heard a lot about you and your wife.”

“Indeed? I wish I could say the same, but I think we’ll have plenty of time for that.” Linneá glanced around the messy cabin in amusement, taking in the clutter of Gwyn’s life. Her eyes came to rest on the noticeably empty spot where Cain had dispelled the magickal chest from, and she waved a hand idly at it. A minor bolt of probing magick highlighted its silhouette and she looked back at them curiously.

“So, what kind of secrets are you keeping in there, you two? Would it have to do with that Kyne mentioned you were hiding?”