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]

You always seem to pick up on my breadcrumbs with things like her hair! If only the celebrations didn't have to end, though.
Anyhoo, here we go, right back into the cold!

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

Chapter XXVI – Darkfall’s Embrace

The mountain winds cascaded over a broad river delta and drove an icy draft directly into the campsite of Linneá Windborne and Gwyndala Louvain. Snow fell lightly in the darkness outside of their tent, but inside the air stayed warm and dry courtesy of a magickal flame floating just above the linen floor, directly between their sleeping bags.

Perimeter alarms were set. Noise dampening spells were cast. And the two dogged adventurers snored obnoxiously for most of the night.

When the sun arrived once more in a vain attempt to pierce the veil of winter snow, Linneá roused herself and set out a plate of dried venison and two apples for a light breakfast. Despite her rustling around for the last few minutes, the tousled hair of Gwyn poking out the top of her sleeping bag remained inert. That is until a gentle prod to the shoulder brought an end to a captivating dream.

“Leave me alone, Linn. I was just getting to the good part.�

“We need to get moving, sis. Mum says a wicked storm is blowing in from Morrowind later today. I want to get beyond this valley before visibility is gone, and we have to hunker down to wait out the snow.�

“Can’t you just Shout it away?�

“She doesn’t like when we mess with the natural order of things like that.�

“’Course she doesn’t.�

Gwyn finally rolled onto her back and sat up with a loud yawn and a craning stretch. She grabbed a hairbrush from her bag and attempted to tame the mess on her head while Linneá began rolling up her own sleeping bag and doing light stretches of her own to limber up for a double-time march and then started on breakfast.

Deciding a hood would be less of a struggle, Gwyn tossed the brush aside and took a swig of water.

“How much further until the cave?�

“I was hoping only another four days, but the weather could double that if we get several more inches of fresh snow.�

“[censored]. We should have rode the damn horses.�

“The mares common in Solitude don’t like it up here in the Reach. The ground is so rocky that they have trouble retaining balance. And if you don’t know exactly there the paths go, you can easily ride right over a cliff.� Linneá picked up her strip of salted meat and chewed thoughtfully on it. A notion occurred to her that could help speed things along, though she wasn’t sure if Gwyn would go for it. “What if were to summon a mount that might be indifferent to the landscape?�

Linneá had received a lot of intense glares in her time, but nobody she’d ever met levied them as practically and effectively as Gwyn managed to. The Breton perfected it into an art form that could render anyone she faced to reconsider whatever ill-timed idea or too late thought was about to come her way. Most annoyingly to Gwyn, however, her soon-to-be sister-in-law found it to be quite humorous and took great pride in riling her up.

“You better have an iron-clad reason for not having [censored] summoned it already, Linn.�

“Does the prospect of clinging to my waist while jostling about on the bony spine of a skeletal horse from the Soul Cairn sound like an acceptable alternative to walking?�

Gwyn actually winced at the idea of it. She didn’t exactly have a lot of meat on her bones and wondered how bruised and battered her groin would be by the time they reached their destination. She certainly wouldn’t be having any fun with her fiancé for a few days.

“Sounds awful, if I’m being honest,� said Gwyn. “Maybe I can sit on a spare cloak. I’d rather not be bow-legged for a week.�

“Well, give it some thought while we pack up and start walking.�

Outside the tent it was cold. So cold, in fact, that Gwyn wanted to crawl right back inside and hibernate for the winter. Instead, she sighed dramatically and cast her warmth spell while donning a cloak and hood over her already several layers deep wardrobe. They packed up the camp and headed due west along the riverbank until a marker stone bearing a clumsily inscribed signpost pointed towards the faintest traces of a dirt path veering slightly north. By mid-morning, the impending storm promised by Kyne nipped at their heels, the sky grey skies filling with turbulent clouds.

“It’s now or never, Gwynnie,� said Linneá, coming to a halt. “I can summon Arvak or we pitch the tent again and hunker down until tomorrow.�
More delays were not enticing to Gwyn. Neither was the prospect of riding a saddle-less undead horse at breakneck speed to outrun the storm for the next three days. But it would be at least a week on foot, plus the lost time today, if they stayed the current course.

“Ugh. I hate this. I just want to go home.�

The pain and fatigue would be easy enough to deal with after a long day of riding, and they had plenty of alchemy ingredients on hand if a healing spell didn’t quite cut it. She couldn’t think of a downside to being uncomfortable if it meant reaching their destination sooner. However, there also happened to be another matter she’d been putting off in fear of further disappointment.

Gwyn admired the emerald ring on her finger, and then, with a deep sigh, placed the hand on her belly and focused inward.

Anything? Cain whispered silently to her from across the province.

No. She drew the hand away and brushed off tears of frustration. Least I don’t have to worry about jostling a baby around.

It’ll happen, promised Cain. It’s not supposed to be easy.

That doesn’t help.

“Call up your mount, Linn. Let’s get the hell away from that storm.�

Linneá gritted her teeth in concentration, brought a hand high above her head, and then cast it down towards the frozen earth. A blinding flash of purple so dark it neared black called forth a magickal vortex and the silent invocation conjured Arvak, the skeletal horse of the Soul Cairn that she had once ridden across that terrifying and desolate realm with Serana at her back.

“Oh!� exclaimed Gwyn. “Linn, he’s not at all what I expected!�

“I know what you mean,� said Linneá, resting a hand on Arvak’s bony haunch. “He has a sort of ethereal charm that is hard to quantify.� She gripped his side and swung a leg over his back with a leap and then offered a hand to Gwyn, who promptly batted it away.

“Hell no. I’m not making some undignified attempt that ends up with me flat on my ass.� Gwyn flicked her wrist and cast a short levitation spell that floated her neatly up onto the horse’s back, right behind Linneá. “Just don’t tell anyone I did that.�

“I didn’t you know could do that, sis,� said an impressed Linneá. “What other tricks do you have hidden up those petite sleeves?�

“Plenty. I taught myself a lot of alternatives to destruction magick. Now can we get a move on?�

Linneá patted Arvak encouragingly on the head and he took off at a blistering gallop.

-----

The entrance to Darkfall Cave loomed into view as a shadowy smudge pressed into the side of a sheer cliff face. Three days had lapsed since summoning Arvak and riding off into the cold. Three days of painful nights in a tent brewing restorative potions in Linneá’s alembic. Three days of Gwyn massaging her tender legs and aching groin. But they’d made great time and finally arrived a full five days sooner than anticipated.

“What’s inside?� inquired Gwyn while casting a healing spell to keep herself from falling to her knees in pain.

“Dunno. Ana and I tussled with some spiders and the odd troll last time. Hopefully Gelebor will still be waiting at the first Wayshrine.�

“The Snow Elf you spoke of?�

“Mhm.� Linneá cast another conjuration spell and their tent solidified on a flat spot ten feet away from the cave mouth. “In you go, Gwynnie.�
“What? Why? It’s only noon. Let’s just do what we came here to do.�

“Because you can barely walk, sis. We’ll rest up for a few hours, maybe have a nap. In you go. No discussions.�

Gwyn thought about responding in a hostile manner over being ordered around by someone younger than her, but she didn’t have it in her. Instead, she limped over to the tent, opened the flap, and threw herself on the ground inside of it.

Rough day? thought Cain.

[censored] off.

Nothing more could be said, for Gwyn passed out for the next two hours while Linneá brewed another strong potion for her struggling companion.

-----

By late afternoon, Gwyn felt much better. They’d broken into their high-quality rations to fix up a hot meal for the occasion and even brewed some lavender infused tea to sip at before Gwyn quaffed down her final healing potion and took a few gingerly steps outside in the snow.

“I should be alright, Linn. Thanks, by the way. You make one hell of draught.�

“Learned from the best,� she shrugged.

“Serana?�

“That goes without saying.�

The tent dispelled with another wave of Linneá’s hand, and together they stepped into Darkfall Cave with candlelight spells illuminating the way forward.

Tangled roots encrusted with ice descended from the ceiling. A few inches of half-melted snow had blown in on strung gusts from increasingly prevalent winter storms causing their initial incursion to be a treacherous ordeal. But soon enough the influences of precipitation began to cease until only a partially frozen scree of rock and dirt remained underfoot. Down rocky slopes and around damp, cold bends they crept for the next several hours. Eventually they reached an open pit and Linneá led them down a twisting ledge that spun further into the depths of the mountain.

Soon they came to a natural bridge carved from stone that spanned an underground river Gwyn could hear rushing by far below in a torrent. She tried not to imagine how far a fall that would be, and kept her eyes fixed firmly forward while crossing to the other side.

“Ana and I fell into that river last time,� said Linneá. “We had to go a different way and foolishly trusted a decrepit rope bridge.�

“It broke while you were on it? I’d have pissed myself.�

“I almost did when we finally washed up at the bottom of a waterfall. I saw her prone form on the shoreline and started panicking, but she was okay. Just had the wind knocked out of her.�

“That was a while ago, right? How old were you two?�

“Um, let me think… it would have been late two twenty-four, so we were only twenty-two at the time.�

Gwyn reached the other side and turned to face her. “[censored], Linn. You were practically still kids.�

“Yeah, well, we both had to grow up fast to survive in this world.� Linneá pointed towards another passageway leading deeper into the mountain. “We’re almost there. C’mon.�

“Hey, wait a sec,� said Gwyn. She grabbed Linneá’s hand and held her in place. “Look, if everything goes as planned, and Cain succeeds your father… you, Serana, and Salihn don’t have to stick around the palace for our benefit. The three of you need each other and if that means moving back to Elysium or buying some other home out in the country then don’t ever hesitate to tell us so. From what I’ve come to know about you, you two’ve earned it ten times over.�

Linneá didn’t know what to say, so she settled for hugging Gwyn tightly. The notion of being out of the public eye wasn’t something she ever thought possible, despite how much they longed for it after the initial novelty of Kirin ascending to the throne wore off. The prospect of being given and out enticed her greatly.

We’ll discuss it when you return home, love, Serana thought to her. I admit it is tempting.

It’s going to be on my mind all the time now.

She released Gwyn from her embrace and rested a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll have our eternal thanks if you can pull that one off, my queen.�

“Oh, knock it off with that queen [censored],� laughed Gwyn, playfully smacking Linneá’s shoulder. She gestured ahead: “lead on!�

Through the passage they went and moments later Linneá and Gwyn were trekking across an open cavern with low ceilings held aloft by pillars of stone interspersed with stale pools of runoff water. A fire crackled merrily within a small ring some distance ahead, and the figure of a tall humanoid could just be made out standing beside the flickering flames. Beyond the humble living area stood an ancient Wayshrine carved from white marble, the symbols of Auri-El borne into the apex.

And Knight-Paladin Gelebor watched their approach carefully.