Of Eagles and Dragons, The Children of Kyne, Vol. IV Options

[Kane]

Act I

Prologue (4E 230)
Emperor Titus Mede II is dead. Convicted of Treasonous Sedition against the Empire and a Vassal State, the Elder Council cast his Writ of Execution with a unanimous vote on Loredas, the 1st of Last Seed, in the Two-hundred thirtieth year of the Fourth Era. The High Chancellor Anilay Cato was chosen to oversee the day-to-day administration of the crumbling Mede Dynasty, and the former head of state himself was hung from the gallows on Green Empire Way in the Imperial City for all to see.

It was a time of uncertainty in Cyrodiil, for there was yet to be a clear successor to the Ruby Throne, and rumors of Colovian and Nibenese warlords arming up to seize power for themselves were beginning to circulate among the populace. Many citizens of the Heartland secretly wished the Dragonborn king of Skyrim would lay claim by birthright, but so far there had been little news from the northern kingdom.

And with a patience born of long life, the Thalmor diplomats were content to watch quietly from their Embassy while their handlers ruled the Third Aldmeri Dominion with an iron fist. Altmer agents moved about in the shadows to sow discord and discontent wherever possible and worked tirelessly to keep the Empire from once again rising to prominence.

-----

Queen Penolore of the Summerset Isles strolled through the botanical gardens of Alinor with her royal retainer in tow. The ultimate ruler of the Aldmeri Dominion, Penolore reigns supreme over the Altmer of her homeland, the Bosmer of Valenwood, and the Khajiiti of Elswyr with an unrelenting grip. The Thalmor operate solely under her command, bringing order to her subjects and extending her reach over the rest of Tamriel. But on this day, she felt only contempt for the ineptness of the organization’s recent failures in combating the rise of a new alliance of power to the north.

The shrill fops in her retainer had followed her from the palace, prattling on endlessly about matters far beneath her station in a constant bid to curry favor with the monarch. Seeking a measure of peace and quiet, she finally had enough of the bickering for one day. Penolore came to a halt and raised a hand in warning.

“Shut up. All of you will shut up now or I shall have you thrown from the highest tower of my palace. Begone from here if you value your meaningless existences.�

They fell silent in deference to their queen and filed out of the gardens as quickly as possible. Not a single one of them were keen to be present for her wrath should it need to be unleashed upon whichever poor soul tarried. Only a single Altmer remained, clad in the traditional dark robes of the Thalmor.

“Have you more to say, Lisotel? I would have thought your inability to carry out even a single assassination of those miserable whelps to the north would have stayed your sharp tongue. Tell me what value you could possibly still offer your queen when others have been flayed alive for failures of a far less magnitude than your own.�

“I only offer news that our agents deemed relevant, milady.�

“Very well. Spit it out and remove yourself from my sight.�

Magistrate Lisotel hesitated for the briefest of seconds. It would have to be today of all days that he was assigned to her retinue, and a message from Solitude should arrive to their headquarters by carrier eagle. Penolore was already in a foul temper after his Thalmor compatriots failed to squash another uprising in Anequina, and now he was poised to deliver more unwelcome news to the surly queen.

“It is with great regret that our field agents in Skyrim report the return of the High King’s son to the Blue Palace. He apparently was spotted in the city yesterday morning in the company of an unknown Breton woman. Where he had gone or what he was up to over the last thirteen months is still a mystery, but we fear his arrival and reintegration with the royal family will push the king to finally issue a claim to the Ruby Throne.�

The queen had stooped down to examine a budding rose stem while Lisotel spoke and she snipped it free cleanly from the stalk with her pruning shears as the words tumbled from the Magistrate’s overworked mouth. It slipped free of her grasp, fell to the floor, and Penolore ground it to a pulp with the heel of her boot.

“Tell me, Lisotel, have we not discussed the merits of tending to one’s garden on many previous occasions? See how easily that is done? Pruning an errant growth is a simple task that is abundantly important in maintaining a healthy growth; one of which I know your Order is easily capable of facilitating. I am granting you a second chance to do as I have ordered. Should you fail once again, the citizens of Alinor shall bear witness to your entrails displayed upon the ruins of Crystal-Like-Law. Return to me when the task is completed, and not one second sooner.�

Bowing his head graciously, Magistrate Lisotel took leave of the queen. Penolore continued to care for the overgrown rose shrub, snipping off stray stems with malicious intent.

-----

“What news from Chorrol, Brother Cassian?�

“High Chancellor,� greeted the courier. “Brother Indus’ scouts report little movement from the camps deep in the Great Forest. If they have anything planned, it will likely not be for some time. Indus suspects they are having trouble recruiting loyal men for the cause. Of course, this would all be a lot easier to verify if we are given leeway to operate more independently.�

Anilay Cato set down his quill and pushed aside the letter he’d been penning. This wasn’t the first time Cassian had made a similar remark, and the chancellor was beginning to grow weary of reminding the man just how delicate the situation in Cyrodiil really was. A stronger hand may be required soon.

“This again? We’ve been over it many times already, Brother Cassian. I’m giving you the most resources I can without drawing scrutiny from the elves. If they discover the Blades have secretly been reformed, the Dominion will bring war to our doorstep immediately. Do what you can with what I have given you and let’s not speak of this again. There are plenty of other men who would love to be in your position.�

Brother Cassian recognized his dismissal and saluted smartly as he turned to leave. Anilay continued to stare absentmindedly at the door long after it had closed behind his captain. He again found himself wondering if reforming the Blades had been a wise move on the council’s part. The endgame of the it made sense to all involved, but Anilay felt the interim risk was too high, and he’d unsuccessfully pushed to have the vote temporarily stayed.

“Too late now,� he said to no one in particular. And with a heavy sigh, he returned to his unfinished letter.

There was another knock on the door and it took all of his restraint to not fling the quill at it and berate whomever deigned to bother him again. “Come in!�

An elderly Breton woman with long gray hair tied back in a ponytail, poked her through the partially opened door and saluted. “Is this a bad time, sir?�
“No, no, come on in, Delphine,� said Anilay. “Forgive my exasperated tone, I just got done reminding Cassian of our straits and I fear that I shall never finish this correspondence.� He rolled up the parchment and set it aside until the next day. “What can I do for you?�

“I’d like to request something of you.� Delphine entered the study and took the recently vacated seat across from the High Chancellor. After she settled in, Anilay gestured for her to continue. “Might I be sent back north to Skyrim? I know the High King from our time together during the Dragon Crisis, and I may be able to get a better read on his intentions than some of our other agents have.�

“Oh, really? But as I understand it, your time working together did not end well, no? As I recall, he asserted his authority as Dragonborn over you and walked away from your efforts to rebuild the order. What makes you think he’ll let you into his court after all these years?�

Delphine frowned. She hadn’t expected Anilay to be so well versed on her prior dealings as a rogue Blade in Skyrim. Truth be told, her efforts to kickstart the Blades, along with Esbern, in Sky Haven Temple had crumbled to dust after Kirin Windborne had walked away from them. Further recruiting efforts failed, and the wizened lore-keeper succumbed to illness not five years later. For her part, Delphine had faded into obscurity as a farmhand in the western Reach.

“Heard about that, did you? Well, you’re right in that there’s no guarantee, but I don’t know what else I can offer the Blades, sir. I’m old and my days of fighting are long since passed. This at least feels like something meaningful I can contribute.�

“I see,� replied Anilay. “And would you be up for such a journey, Delphine? Autumn is settling in over Skyrim and our men at Cloud Ruler have reported the Pale Pass is already under several feet of snow. It will not be easy going.�

“I’ll manage.�

The High Chancellor studied her for a moment and then he grabbed a new roll of parchment and dipped his quill in fresh ink. He scribbled away while Delphine waited patiently for his decision, wondering where fate would take her next. She had been so hesitant when the rumors of former Blades officers being brought back into the fold were swirling, and it wasn’t until Brother Cassian himself had tracked her down to a small plantation near Karthwasten that she allowed herself to believe they were true. The reality didn’t truly set in for her until she was assigned a room at Weynon Priory, on the outskirts of Chorrol, and asked to advise the younger Captains leading this new iteration of the fabled organization.

Anilay finished writing his new orders, signed, and stamped the bottom with an Imperial Seal before wrapping it up and handing it to Delphine. “Deliver this to Brother Cassian and return to Cloud Ruler with him to begin your preparations.�

“Thank you, sir,� said Delphine. “I’ll keep in touch.�

“A bit of advice, if I may?�

“Sir?�

The chancellor dug around in his desk for few seconds until he found the dossier he was seeking. Flipping it open, Anilay slid out a sketching of Cain Windborne and handed it to the waiting Breton. “If the High King offers resistance, try speaking to his son. I’ve met the man personally and he’s wise, clever, and kind to a fault. Not to say that his father is an ignorant old man, but sometimes younger eyes see things differently. I’ve gathered that Cain is back home in Solitude after being abroad following the death of his fiancé.�

Delphine bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement. Everyone in Skyrim had heard about his loss, and people across the province had mourned for the young woman from Stonehills. There were even gossiping commoners in the taverns at night saying she had been pregnant at the time, but that was never officially confirmed by the High King’s court. If It were true, Delphine didn’t fault him at all for taking some time away, even if his whereabouts were a mystery.

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir.�

“Excellent. Take care on your trip, and dress warmly. I expect a letter by carrier bird as soon as you get settled in at Solitude. You’re dismissed, Delphine.�

Anilay watched her depart and then he glanced back over at his unfinished letter. Deciding it could wait until the morning, the chancellor left his office in search of a strong drink to end the day with. He wasn’t entirely convinced allowing Delphine to intrude on the High King’s court was a good idea, but he’d expected answers from Kirin Windborne for some time now, and was rewarded with nothing.

If another week passes like this I shall have to contact Cain myself. Perhaps the man would be willing to visit me in person.

The White-Gold Tower still bustled with activity in the evening hours, and so Anilay elected to don his commoner clothes and seek a drink at Luther Broad’s, instead.


This post has been edited by Kane: Jun 26 2025, 03:16 PM

[Kane]

Acadian: I should have had them sharing thoughts a long time ago. It's so much fun to write! And funny how an innocuous trip to Morthal could have such a dramatic turn!

Grits: I'd also love to spend a day or thirty in that library. One can only imagine the depths of knowledge stored away! A reading on flowers from Idgrod would indeed have been much more pleasant!

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

Chapter XX – The Journey Begins
In the early days of the winter season the western road out of Solitude remained relatively free from travelers, save for two cloaked figures of drastically different heights. Bowing her head against the biting wind, the shorter of the two began to privately wish that they had saddled up a horse and rode to Dragon Bridge, rather than going on foot until they reached the mountainous wilds beyond the village.

Linneá on the other hand, being a Nord, was completely nonplussed by their march through the gently falling snow of Sun’s Dusk. At one point she even considered removing her hood and cloak to cool off a little bit, but she felt that might frustrate Gwyn further.

They mostly marched in a stoic silence at first, each of them grappling mentally with what they left behind to undertake the journey that was just beginning. And then Gwyn made good on something she silently told her far away love.

“Cain’s at the Imperial Library, completely swooned by the enormity of it. He felt compelled to brag about it to you.�

“What an ass,� smirked Linneá. “Tell him he owes his sisters and niece a trip down there. I’m sure he could arrange it with his friend Anilay.�

“I’ll pass it on. How far did you say it was to Dragon Bridge?�

“At least two and a half days, if we make good time.�

“[censored].�

“What? Not enjoying my company? I’m hurt!�

“It’s not that, idiot,� Gwyn rolled her eyes. “I’m [censored] freezing and it’s only going to get worse.�

Linneá glanced sideways at her new companion. She often forgot that not everyone around her was equipped to deal with the cold – even her own brother. Gwyn’s teeth were starting to chatter every time the wind picked up, and the layers of clothing seemed to only help so much. Linneá wasn’t sure the Breton would make it at this rate, so she placed a hand on her shoulder and frowned in concentration.

“Linn, what are you doing? I don’t need moral support. I need… I… oh, [censored]. That is lovely.�

A wonderfully uplifting feeling of warmth radiated from Linneá’s fingertips and coursed throughout Gwyn’s body. The shivering cold dispelled entirely until it felt like she was walking under the warm sun of summertime on the Iliac Bay.

“You need to teach me that one,� gushed Gwyn. “Now. What school is it?� She pulled off her hood and took a deep breath without her lungs aching. “Please tell me it’s Alteration!�

“It is,� laughed Linneá. “And you’re welcome. We can practice it when we make camp tonight. The effect should last two to three hours at a time, so just tell me when you feel the cold creeping back in, yeah?�

“My hero.�

Why didn’t you think of that earlier, Elle? Serana asked her from afar. Poor girl was probably going to freeze solid.

Too busy worrying about you and Salihn, Linneá admitted.

Just be present for Gwyn. You don’t need to fret over us; we can talk to you at any time. She’s going to need you more than you realize. By the end of the day, she and Cain will have been apart for what I’m guessing is the longest amount of time since they first truly bonded. And you and I know that while deeply intimate, these connections cannot compare to physical touch.

I know, I know. I’ll keep my wits about me, I promise.

“Sorry for not thinking of that earlier, sis,� said Linneá.

“It’s fine. Not like we both aren’t going through a lot right now.�

The rest of that first day on the road was uneventful. Come sundown, they were scouting for a secluded campsite for the night in the shadow of Mount Kilkreath, and its Shrine to Meridia. After a finding a decently flat clearing south of the cobblestone road, Linneá set about erecting her tent while Gwyn gathered some frozen branches and timber to build a fire with. She returned to camp, arms laden with fuel, and grinned at her traveling companion fighting with tentpoles.

“Stop what you’re doing, Linn.�

“What? Why? Where am I supposed to sleep without my tent?�

“I’ll make you a deal,� said Gwyn. “You teach me that warmth spell…� She set down the pile of branches, pointed her hand at the spot staked off for her own tent and summoned a cozy A-frame with a leather shell, all set up and ready to go. “…and I’ll teach you my tent spell.�

Linneá’s eyes blinked rapidly in amazement for a couple seconds before she stood up and started kicking over the tentpoles she had already affixed. Then she summoned her dimensional storage chest and dumped the old patchwork tent inside of it.

“Deal.�

-----

Linneá looked skyward and noted the midday sun on day eight of their march eastward. Dragon Bridge now lay far behind them, down a winding path along the Karth River that rose steadily into the mountainous and craggy highlands of the Northern Reach. Little of note had occurred thus far on their quest; save for the mysterious vision of Idgrod the Younger relayed to Gwyn by Cain that had drummed up a great deal of conversation between multiple parties. Nights around the campfire were inevitably spent dissecting the obscure message to no avail; even on the single occasion that Cain had recalled to Gwyn’s side for a visit.

The road and its guard patrols ended at the village, leaving the two inherently capable women to defend themselves from whatever lurked in the wilds of Skyrim. It was mostly the occasional troll or spriggan they had to deal with, for the wildlife sensed Linneá’s deep kinship with Kyne and paid them no mind. But when danger did eventually come, it was a hair too late that Linneá heard the twanging release of a bow, followed by the whistling of a poorly crafted arrow, and the thud it made while burying itself in Gwyn’s thigh.

Dropping to her knee with a cry of pain, Gwyn looked around wildly while Linneá backed in close to her, tanto drawn and spells at the ready. Three bandits layered in crude pelts leapt down from a pile of boulders above the path and formed a semi-circle around them.

“Give up yer gold or the next arra’ finds a better mark!� threatened the biggest of the three wild men. He towered over Linneá, his beady black eyes grim and set deep into a sunken face. An ornate Elven longbow, likely stolen from a wayward traveler, was drawn and ready in his hands, with another of the arrows ready to release. “Quick like, pre’y lady, or the boys an’ I ‘ll have us some fun terday.�

Linneá sized up this real first nuisance of their journey. The men were big, slow, and ill-equipped compared to the two woman whom they thought to be hapless travelers whose luck had just run out. She figured a quick slice of his bowstring with her keen blade would take the leader out of the picture for long enough to toss the other two away with her Thu’um; and once they realized they’d chosen the wrong prey, the louts would most likely flee for their worthless lives.

The only thing she forgot about in her assessment of the situation was the temporarily downed Breton behind her. Unfortunately for the bandit leader, his final threat and its dark implication set Gwyn off in a way he wouldn’t live long enough to regret. The crimson glow of her corrupted magick flickered into Gwyn’s palm, and she staggered to her feet.

“Well, looky here boys!� laughed the bandit. “The li’le lady is a toughun, eh? Tha’ll make fer a lot more fun –“

Whatever vile thoughts the cruel miscreant planned to annunciate would go unheard by his two friends. Gwyn aimed her hands at him, cast a spell, and pulled her arms back like she was tugging on a door that had been sealed shut from disuse. The bandit’s skin, flesh, sinew, and entrails were torn free from the bones of his body and fell to the earth in a disgusting pile of blood and stink.

Linneá saw the motion out of the corner of her eye and shielded her face just in time, but she still ended up blanketed by a red mist. When she lowered her arms, she nearly laughed aloud at the sight of the other two men scrambling up the hill and into the sparse juniper trees, jostling with each other to get as far away from the tiny, murderous woman as possible. But her delight fast evaporated at the sight of the bloodied skeleton lying in the snow. Linneá had never quite known what to expect after learning of Gwyn’s supposedly dark, brutal destruction magick, but she didn’t think it would be so overwhelmingly violent and deadly as what she just witnessed.

“If you’re down gawking, can you yank this [censored] thing out my leg, Linn?� grunted Gwyn in pain. “The barb is stuck in the bone, and I can’t free it.� She glanced up at Linneá who stood stock still, gazing at what remained of the dead bandit. “Look, I’m sorry you had to see that. Just help me first and then we can talk about it, okay?�

“Yeah, alright,� said Linneá. She stooped over Gwyn and after planting her foot in the ground she waited for Gwyn to bite down on the cuff of her sleeve and then pulled the arrow free with a sharp tug followed by a spurt of blood.

Gwyn’s muffled scream of pain echoed through the still air and caught the ear of an approaching and ever-watching hawk. Kyne glided down onto the rocky path, morphing into her human form just before touching down.

“Let me heal it, dear,� she offered. “I can replace the blood and your leg won’t scar.�

“Just [censored] do it,� cried Gwyn. Her leg was shaking from the agony until the goddess’ golden healing light cascaded over the wound and sealed it up without a trace. Panting from the pain, she sat in the snow to catch her breath. “Thanks.�

“Of course,� said Kyne. Then she turned her attention to Linneá: “Stand still, child. I’ll get you cleaned up.� Another wave of her hand and the bandit’s blood erased itself from her Linneá’s clothes and exposed skin. “Are you two okay?�

“I’m fine,� said Gwyn, waving the question away. “Not the first creep I’ve had to deal with, and I doubt it will be the last.�

Linneá didn’t answer, but her hand traced over her pale cheeks where the blood of their attacker had just been wiped away.

Elle, what’s wrong? Serana had sensed her apprehension unconsciously and mentally reached out at once. What’s happened? Is everything okay?

Hm? Oh… I’m fine. We’re fine. Some idiots in rags attacked us and I finally got a taste of Gwyn’s warped magick. Linneá closed her eyes and tried to push the memory of the gory results from the forefront of her mind. Her wife shouldn’t have to see it either. It’s disturbing, Ana. We need to find a way to help our sister.