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 XLIV �" Letting Go


A soft summer breeze rustled through the moor with a gentle touch that sent the tall grasses and vibrant wildflowers aflutter. With a calamity averted, wildlife came to ground and birdsong began anew, ringing, tweeting, and hooting aloud for all to hear. Outside of Gwyn’s cabin Cain stood in a daze, partially unable to believe what he’d just experienced. The scent of his late fiancé hung in the air for a split second until the wind caromed it away, leaving just the memories. And for the first time in ten months, Cain found those to be enough.

Timid footsteps approached from behind and he felt a small hand rest on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” asked Gwyndala. “That was… I don’t even know where to begin…”

“No, I’m not okay,” replied Cain and turning to look at her with a weak smile. “But I think I will be in time. I’m glad you got to meet her, Gwyn. She truly was an extraordinary person. Still is, I guess. Even in death.”

More footsteps hurried over. Gwyn ducked away to her porch while Cain’s family peppered him with a thousand questions and took turns hugging him with teary eyes. This went on for nearly ten minutes until Serana broke away from the group and asked Gwyn if she could sit on the steps with her. The Breton shrugged and gestured vaguely at the space next to her.

“Since Cain’s a little tied up, I thought I’d check in with you. How are you doing, Gwyn? No ill effects from those spells? That was an impressively masterful use of the arcane you nearly pulled off.”

“I’m fine,” said Gwyn.

Serana rolled her eyes and tutted jokingly. “It’s okay to let your guard down once in a while, you know. I’ve seen how loyal and protective of you Cain is. My brother wouldn’t allow us to be here if he didn’t trust us implicitly.”

Gwyn didn’t say anything. She already knew all of that but felt it unfair of Serana to think she would just pour her heart out simply because they had someone in common. Then a tiny voice of reason crept into her thoughts. She’s not asking for your life story. She just wants to show that she cares.

“Yeah, I guess you have a point. I really am okay. Things turned out better than I could have ever imagined. Feel up for a celebratory drink? I still have some of that brandy in there.”

“It’s only half past nine in the morning.”

“This is a judgement-free sort of place, Serana. Do you want the [censored] drink or not?”

“Oh, remembered my name, have we?” teased Serana. “And yes, I’d love a drink. Divines know we all could use one after these last few days.”

A few seconds after Gwyn disappeared into the confines of her tiny home, Serana noticed that Cain and Linneá had broken away from the others and were walking off into the tall grasses, deep in conversation while their parents and Kyne milled about awkwardly.

We’ll be back shortly, dear, came Linneá’s gentle thought. See if you can wrangle the folks, will you? They’re worried about intruding on Gwyn’s life.

“Are you sure they’ll be okay?” asked Cain. “They seem a little, I don’t know �" nervous? She doesn’t bite.”

“Gwyn’s not exactly sociable, brother. Ana can handle it, though. She’s determined to cut through that hard shell for some reason. Something about your friend has piqued her curiosity.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Cain admitted. “They have more in common than you know.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“That’s for Gwyn to share, and only Gwyn. I’ve probably said too much already.”

They walked a good way off until Cain felt they were far enough away to not be overheard. He was still thoroughly embarrassed by the hurtful remarks he’d made to Linneá the night before, but now that they stood alone and across from each, he struggled to find the words to say. It also didn’t help that Cain’s mind was still racing from what he’d just experienced.

Linneá understood anyway, and she pulled him in to her embrace. “It’s alright, Cain. I forgive you. I can only imagine how stressed out and angry you were last night. None of us realized how much you were still struggling with her loss �" even Kyne thought you were on the mend. We should have done more to help you sooner.”

“How could you have when I tried my damnedest to stay away? Don’t feel too sorry for me, Linn. I couldn’t even help myself.”

“Loss isn’t easy for anyone. I’m just glad you found Gwyn and developed whatever weird bond it is that you have with her. Things could have turned out much worse if you had truly gone it alone.” Linneá took a deep breath and then asked him something that had been on her mind for a while now. “What is it with the two of you anyway? She was willing to throw her entire life away for you this morning, Cain. An act of sacrifice like that goes well beyond friendship…”

“Gwyn’s a complicated woman, and she’s had a hard life, Linn. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

Linneá giggled and punched him playfully on the shoulder. “Okay, sure. Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Cain, indignantly.

“Nothing at all, brother. C’mon, let’s get back and make sure they aren’t at each other’s throats.”

There was, in fact, little of note going on when they returned to Gwyn’s cabin. Kyne had summoned a table large enough for all of them out front, and they sat in isolated groups. Serana seemed to be the lynchpin and was sharing the bottle of brandy with Gwyn, and talking to the others while Kirin and Lydia sipped from steaming mugs of coffee.

Cain sat down next to the tiny Breton and gave her hand a squeeze. Gwyn’s stomach did a somersault but, on the outside, she managed to keep a somewhat neutral demeanor and raise an eyebrow at him.

“I owe you so much. We’ll talk more about it later.”

She flashed him a rare smile and this time was unable to hide the new light in her eyes. Cain caught it just before she turned away but his attention was pulled elsewhere by a sharp noise that kept him from focusing on it.

“Ahem,” Kirin cleared his throat and looked around at all of them. “I know the day is young, but it feels long enough already. We need to get back home in time for the court to open, so I don’t think we should linger here much longer. Ms. Louvain was kind enough to let us stay this long already, and �"“

A snorting sound from the far end of the table cut off his remarks. Cain sighed and lifted a hand to his mouth to stifle the laughter from tumbling out.
“Er, is there something wrong, Ms. Louvain?” continued Kirin.

“Gwyn is fine,” she answered. “And you’re the High [censored] King of Skyrim. I can be a bitch at the best of times, but I’m cultured enough to know its poor manners to invite you to piss off. You and your wife are welcome to stay as long as you’d like. Uh, within reason, of course.”

“Oh, dear,” said Lydia.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Mrs. Windborne,” Gwyn retorted. “This isn’t the Blue Palace, it’s a piece of [censored] hovel with an earthen floor. I know you’ve only been royalty for a few years, so please just be yourselves.”

Linneá, Serana, and even Kyne had joined Cain in barely suppressing their laughter at the tiny, yet fearless woman. Despite her eagerness to get that part out of the way, Gwyn sat back and worried she’d gone too far and had disrespected Cain’s parents. That would be a rocky start to recover from. To her delight, they both laughed aloud at her brash directness and dropped the airs.

“Good enough for me, Gwyn,” chuckled Kirin. “We really do need to be getting back, though. I’m not even sure who the college is loaning us today for our court wizard.”

“There’s one more thing I’d like to do first,” piped up Cain. “With all of you,” he added.

“What is it, dear?” asked Kyne.

“I’d rather just show you, if that’s okay.” He got up and moved away from the table. “Come join me and I’ll whisk us all away at once.” Cain’s entire family circled around him with Gwyn at his side. They joined hands and he wasted no time in casting the recall spell.

-----

They reappeared hundreds of miles to the southeast, standing atop a steep cliff looming over the Abecean Sea. Cain knelt down and used his dagger to chop away the overgrown grasses to reveal the grave markers he’d lain down over the last two years. One for his mother, Ariessa Janeel, and one for his fiancé, Anska of Stonehills.

“Oh, Cain…” came a soft voice from behind him. “I’d always wondered where…”

Gwyn laid a hand on Linneá’s shoulder. “Sometimes it’s best not to say anything,” she offered, gently.

Linneá swallowed hard and fished around for her wife’s hand instead, gripping it tightly in her own. To their left, Kirin was comforting Lydia and Kyne who were dabbing at their eyes with kerchiefs. Standing firmly by her friend’s side, Gwyndala watched Cain rest a hand on both markers for a few moments. Then he slipped Anska’s engagement ring from his pocket and laid it on her tombstone.

“I’ll always remember what we had. Always.”

He brushed the tears away from his eyes and stood back up. Gwyn led him gently away so that the others could pay their respects, and sat down with him on a nearby rock.

“You chose a wonderful final resting place for them, Cain,” soothed Gwyn. “The view from here is truly special.” She eyed him closely and could not believe the shift in his spirit from early this morning. It felt like a completely different man was sitting next to her, in all of the best possible ways. The grief was still present, but he seemed to finally be at peace with himself.

“They deserve it,” he said to her. “Remarkable women, the both of them.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Gwyn gritted her teeth and steeled herself for the answer to the question she was dreading to ask him. It couldn’t be put off anymore, though, and she picked at her fingernails while probing nonchalantly. “So, will you be going home now? With your family? I’m sure they’re eager to put all of this behind them.”

Cain watched his family take turns kneeling in front of the gravestones, wondering what they’d think of his decision on that matter. He’d given that question a lot of thought over the last hour or two, and the answer was never in doubt.

“No. At least, not yet. You and I still have work to do.”

Gwyn hid her smile and did her best to seem only slightly interested. “Work? Like what?”

“I’d like to get rid of all those books on time magic. Not like I was ever going to learn it, and you’ve already mastered the contents, so they need to go. Even if it’s only to keep anyone else from stumbling onto such a trove. After that… I don’t know. S’pose I need to find a way to thank you for sticking by my side through all of this. And for how much you were willing to give up. That was never fair of me to ask and I can’t believe you indulged such selfishness. I’ll never figure you out, Gwyndala Louvain. Never.”

“I wouldn’t say never,” Gwyn smirked. “You already know more about me than anyone ever has. There’s just one piece of the puzzle left. In time, you’ll find the place where it fits.”

They looked back over at his family together and saw that Kyne was the last to take a knee in the tall grasses. Linneá and Serana were standing off to the side, watching the two friends sitting on their stone perch. The knowing smiles they shot at Gwyn were so smug she could have smacked them both. Then the goddess waved her hand over the graves, blanketing them with an elegant golden light while she rose to her feet and turned to beckon them over.

“Thank you for bringing us here, my child. For finally letting us grieve with you. And for taking such a monumental step in moving on.” She hugged him tightly for a moment and then gestured at the headstones once again. “I used a little divine magick to preserve them forever. The grass will never obscure them, nor will the sun ever fade them. No mortal will be able to remove them, and the ring will never leave that spot.”

Cain thanked her profusely and offered a hug of his own that she gladly accepted.

“I must go for now,” said Kyne. “But I’ll come see you again soon, okay?” She bade goodbye to the rest of them and soared off into the clear blue skies.
Kirin and Lydia approached him next and Cain knew exactly what was coming, so he headed them off. “Not just yet,” he said. “I promise I’ll be home before long, but not just yet. Gwyn and I have some loose ends to tie up.”

“We knew you’d say that, hon,” acknowledged Lydia. “We’ll be there when you are ready.”

“It won’t be too long, and I’ll make sure I stop by for dinner now and then.”

“I’ll hold you to that, son,” said Kirin. “I beg you not take another ten months, though. I’ve got big plans for you.”

More goodbyes followed, and then Cain’s parents retreated back a little bit to allow Linneá and Serana a few moments with him. They promised to stop in when they could, but first made sure to check if that was okay with Gwyn. She nodded and warned them not too early in the morning, or they would be unceremoniously thrown out.

Soon enough, it was just Cain and Gwyndala standing alone by the two graves. She had let his family pay their respects first, and now took the time to do so herself. After a moment of silence, Gwyn rose to her feet, placed her hand in Cain’s, and together they recalled back to her home on the Glenumbra Moors.