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

[Acadian]

Neat reminder of that practical skylift to get up and down the White Gold Tower.

As soon as Anilay served wine I thought to myself, ‘not mead?’ and in the very next paragraph, Cain echoed my thoughts.

So the die is cast! Kirin will strike for the Ruby Throne – Thalmor be damned. And I’m as impressed as Anilay by the intel network Kirin seems to have running.

I love how you portray Kyne as needing this family as much as they need her. Just because she’s a Divine, doesn’t preclude her having feelings and wanting to be needed/loved.

Gwyn’s 'training time' taking care of Salihn has resulted in the not too unexpected side effect of wanting a child of her own!

[Kane]

Chapter XIV - Shimmering Steam


Linneá stood fixed and unmoving between her father and Delphine; the mysterious Blade and one time ally of Kirin and Lydia. She’d heard many stories about this agent, including how Delphine and Esbern, another agent and old Blades archivist, assisted her parents during the Dragon Crisis. Linneá also knew how that association had ended when the old woman now seeking an audience with the High King stubbornly refused to honor Kirin’s wishes with regards to the leader of the Greybeards. Paarthurnax, the ancient dragon, had proven a valuable ally to the Dragonborn, and, in the time following Alduin’s defeat, a staunch friend. Lydia had even taken Linneá on her first pilgrimage to meet Paarthurnax and his followers when she was only eight years old. As far as she was concerned, this woman had no business being here after all these years.

“I don’t give a skeever’s ass who sent you,” spat Linneá. “You don’t get to show up here after thirty years and expect anything from my father, not after the astounding amount of arrogance you tried to bully him with.”

“You would deny the High Chancellor’s wishes?” asked Delphine.

“He can take it up with me directly, if he so pleases.”

On the raised dais behind his daughter sat Kirin, with Lydia by his side. He’d of course been expecting this ghost from the past for a while now, though he couldn’t help but let himself be humored by Linneá’s strong devotion and loyalty. She’d been very overprotective of her parents ever since their return to the mortal realms and cared not for whatever reasoning one may have if she perceived a threat.

“Aren’t you going to stop her?” whispered Lydia.

“Nah. Delphine needs to understand what she is dealing with here. Gone are the days that she had any measure of power or influence over us, and she certainly will not be permitted to try it on our children. I’m tolerating her presence as a favor to Anilay.”

Delphine appeared to be getting annoyed at this point. “And what of the High King? I gathered he was expecting my arrival and would not turn me away. Does his will mean nothing to you? Maybe I ought to ignore you entirely and speak directly to Kirin? I’ve had a lifetime of dealing with petulant children like yourself and I lost my patience for this sort of thing long ago.”

If the Blades agent suspected an escalation, it was not the one that came next. The entire palace shook violently as the thunderous Words of Linneá’s remarkable Thu’um reverberated around the throne room. “MUL-QAH-DIIV!” The massive aspect of a dragon encompassed her form, looming tall and powerful over the slight Breton who took a nervous step back from the sudden display of power. Eddies of magicka swirled around Linneá with discharges of lightning flickering in and out. Ethereal horns rose from her shoulders and head, sharp and imposing.

“Insult me again and there won’t be a body to return to Cyrodiil,” warned Linneá. “This isn’t the White-Gold Tower, Delphine. You’re in the home of Clan Windborne and you better tread carefully. Respect is earned here - not freely given. And you’ve a long way to go before you earn any of ours.”
Feeling that his daughter had thoroughly made her point, Kirin decided it was time to step in. “That will do, Linn.”

She glanced over his shoulder at him, caught the wink he flashed, and bowed her head. Her shout dispelled and Linneá moved aside to finally allow Delphine an audience with her father. Through all that unfolded, none but Linneá herself paid any attention to the small mouse perched atop the banister of the steps leading down to the vestibule. It was a risky move, but Kyne was determined to be present for the arrival of Delphine. She too had a long memory and did not like the way the Blades had thrust themselves into the Dragon Crisis, even if they did ultimately have a part to play in that story. She watched and listened impassively from her unobstructed vantage point, subtly probing at Delphine’s mind in an attempt to parse out any ill-intent on behalf of the Blades. Anilay Cato was a proven ally of the family, but anyone aware of this shadowy organization’s long history was right to be wary.

Anything of note, mum?

Not yet, thought Kyne. She’s either very clever and capable of couching her intentions, or she simply wants to be relevant somehow. There is a desire to be meaningful at play in there. Delphine seems to have felt rather useless in the grand scheme of things after your father managed to prove her help was not needed. I don’t think farm life suited her.

Really? Hm. Okay, but I’m still keeping an eye on her. Why after all this time is she so interested in seeing dad again? And why now, when she’s elderly?

Time will have to tell.

Guess so. Ready to get out of here? If I stick around, I’ll probably go off on her again. Jump on to my arm when I walk past you. You can hitch a ride to our room and then we’ll meet you at Elysium.

Linneá politely excused herself to Kirin and Lydia, fired a final warning glare across Delphine’s bow, and headed for the stairs. The little mouse dove for her arm and gripped it tightly before scurrying up around Linneá’s shoulder to hide itself in the hood of her robes.

Comfy?

No. Please hurry, it’s very warm in here.

Yes, ma’am.

Down the stairs and around the bend they went, bound for the deeper reaches of the Blue Palace. Fretful faces and worried murmurs followed Linneá down the long corridors, palace staff and guards talking among themselves in harried tones.

That’s your fault, you know, Kyne spoke into her mind.

What?

The staff is on edge from your statement to Delphine. They don’t know what caused the building to rumble.

[censored]. Probably should have considered that, but they’ll figure it out before too long. I’ll let the next guard I see know.

They passed by a lieutenant not long after and Linneá relayed the news to him. He promised to spread the word, muttered something along the lines of ‘should’ve known’ and saluted smartly with a sly smile. It didn’t take long for the excitement to ebb, and everything felt normal by the time Linneá made it back to the dormitories and living areas. Serana and Salihn greeted them with an eagerness to leave, the little one practically bouncing on her heels.

“Did you really have to go overboard, Elle?” teased Serana after giving her a kiss. “We felt your stage presence all the way down in our library.”

“Had to remind Delphine who’s really in charge,” said Linneá. “Last thing we need is her ego clogging up the court.”

“Maybe she’s changed?”

At this, Kyne finally scurried free from her hiding place, dropped to the floor, and resumed her usual form.

“Mama Kyne!” yelled Salihn gleefully. She dashed up to Kyne and let the goddess pick her up. “Are you coming to Elysium with us?”

“I am, indeed, sweetheart. Are you packed up and ready?”

“Uh huh!”

“Wonderful. Let’s not keep your aunt and uncle waiting any longer!”

-----

The aroma of sizzling sausages and fresh coffee wafted around the kitchen and dining room of Elysium Estate. Cain and Gwyn made sure to be awake for their guests’ arrival this time, and had the promised breakfast ready to go. A bowl of fresh fruit sat on the table alongside several loaves of bread with honeyed butter, and juniper berry jam. The aforementioned sausages were tipped onto a platter by Gwyn at the same time a pan of scrambled eggs mixed with caramelized onions and peppers solidified under Cain’s watchful eyes. They carried it all over to the table and set it in place just as Linneá and Serana materialized in the doorway with Salihn and Kyne in tow.

“Hey, you’re awake this time!” grinned Linneá.

“And I’d much rather still be asleep,” Gwyn retorted. “Which means I’m not above kicking you out.”

Ignoring their banter, Serana began to sniff at the food. “It smells scrumptious,” she said while sitting down and helping herself to the hearty fare. Her eyes widened at the open jar next to the bread. “Is that juniper jam? Where’d you find that!?”

“Gwyn jarred it herself,” answered Cain. “She got tired of not finding it in town.”

Serana lathered a spoonful of the jam over a crusty piece of bread and took a bite. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head while she chewed slowly to savor each delicious bite. “Godsdammit, do I adore you, Gwyn. I haven’t been able to find this stuff in years.” She spread it over a few more slices and forked some of the sausages onto her plate before changing the subject. “You guys sure you’ll be okay with Salihn again? It’ll take us most of the day to reach Shimmermist which means we likely won’t be back until late.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine,” said Gwyn. “And if it’s the wee hours of the morning when you do get back, just grab a bed and stay the night. No sense in rousing her.”

“Deal,” said Linneá. “But we won’t linger in the morning. Tomorrow’s the big day, right? You’re leaving for Falkreath?”

Gwyn frowned and nodded. She still wasn’t enamored by the idea of traversing the entirety of Skyrim, but neither would she let Cain do it alone. And tomorrow was indeed the start of their journey. Their bags were packed full of provisions and warm clothes (mostly Gwyn’s new outfits) and Cain had sharpened his sword and hung it by the door. It would take them at least two to three days of walking, but they also planned to stay the first night in the small village of Riverwood.

“Tomorrow it is,” she finally confirmed.

Gwyn was about to sit down with a mug of tea when Kyne caught her eye. “Fancy a walk, Gwyn?”

“Yeah, all right.” Her heart wasn’t really in it, but she agreed all the same. It wasn’t lost on her that Kyne sought to patch over their rocky start a few weeks ago. She’d been slowly building up to something like this with polite conversations and gentle offers to help with every little thing. “Just give me a moment to get dressed. These robes aren’t warm enough.”

-----

The road remained quiet in the morning hours. Only the stray carriage or courier slid past Linneá and Serana with the barest hint of acknowledgment. The farms nestled on the outskirts of Whiterun City already slumbered; the fields that once teemed with grains, fruits, and vegetables now stood harvested and barren. Goats bleated in their pens and cows mooed into the calm air, mixing with the endless prattle of birdsong. A small flock of choughs flew overhead, bound for the higher reaches of Skyrim’s mountainous peaks where they would roost for the coming months of cold and snow. Far off in the distance Serana espied the southern mountains of The Pale looming high above the eastern tundra; their destination hidden somewhere in those roots of stone.

“Ever been in Shimmermist, love? Was it another bolt hole of yours?”

“No, I avoided that place for good reason,” said Linneá. “There have long been rumors of a dwemer ruin buried within, including an active steam centurion. Slender women and massive metal constructs don’t mix well.”

“But slender women and dragons do?”

“Not if I had my way. I doubt you’ve forgotten the reluctance to embrace my fate that I carried with me when we first met. Besides, I’d just a soon as debate a dragon instead of killing it.”

“Uh uh,” tutted Serana. “That silver tongue is mine and mine alone.”

“Damn right it is.” Linneá stop marching and pulled her wife in for a desirous kiss. Her right hand ran through Serana’s hair while the left caressed her lower back. Breathing heavily, Serana leaned back after a few seconds to keep things from getting too sensual.

“For Divine’s sake, later, Elle! We can’t do that in the middle of the road!”

“Ah, you’re no fun. Who’s going to see us? I could pick you up and set you right on that bridge railing and the odds of someone strolling past are minuscule.”

“Later!”

“Oh, fine then.” Linneá kissed her again and gave Serana a slap on the ass before resuming their quest to Shimmermist Cave. Serana returned the favor in kind, along with a playful bite on Linneá’s neck. They moved on until the midday sun brought them to the old Tundra Homestead where they broke for a quick lunch outside the vacant home. Linneá stared at the quaint structure and let her thoughts wander down the road of what a different life might have brought them. Once upon a time, her parents had spoken of moving into this homestead and leaving Elysium to her and Serana. Until the Moot was convened, and their lives were turned upside down. Even so, she realized in the end that she wouldn’t change any of it for the world.

“Of course you wouldn’t, my love,” said Serana. “We’d have never been blessed with Salihn coming into our lives.”

“Blessed indeed. I miss that little gremlin already. C’mon, let’s pack up and get a move on. Sooner we reach our destination, the sooner we get back to her.”

After a hasty repack of their bags, they were underway again, this time leaving the road and crossing the flowery tundra. The sun was at their backs for this part of the journey, beaming its bright rays down on their pale necks while they hiked through the tall grass and sidestepped the occasional bramble or thorny shrub. It was near eveningtide when they finally came to a stop outside of their destination. Shimmermist Cave beckoned, the warning totems of a Falmer tribe erected by the cave’s gaping maw.

Leaving their traveling bags in the dirt outside, Linneá and Serana ventured into the murky black depths of a second Falmer hive in nearly as many days. Glowing mushrooms lined the rocky walls and cast a pale blue glow that did little to aid with navigating the twisting bends and sloping earthen floor. An odd mist swirled throughout the stale, tepid air; but the silence reigned supreme above all. Much like their previous delve into Chillwind Depths, it did not take long for them to notice the absence of Falmer activity.

This time, however, Linneá and Serana plumbed the depths of the short cave system and found no evidence of the stunted occupant’s fate. Their chitinous huts stood empty and not a single Falmer or Chaurus remained within the hive. Eventually, the deserted caves gave way to the partially buried ruins of a dwemer stronghold, and, to their surprise, the massive automaton that scared off many an adventurer lay inert on the ancient stone floor of its master’s hall.

“What in the hell is going on, Elle?” wondered Serana. “Where are all these Falmer disappearing to? And who or what would have bothered to take down a centurion?”

“I don’t know,” said Linneá. “Nor do I like it. We’ll have to see what dad’s scouting parties report back. Hopefully it will only be a couple weeks.”

“That soon? Skyrim is a big place…”

“It is, but they were dispatched on horseback, and not all from Solitude.”

Serana stood with her hands on her hips and looked around the empty room. “Something tells me there is nothing here to find. Head back?”
“Yeah, maybe we’ll be in time for dinner.”

They linked hands and vanished in the blink of an eye, only to reappear inside an empty house. A haunch of meat magickally rotated over the cooking spit in the kitchen, but no one seemed the be keeping check on it. A mug of tea sat on the kitchen counter, still steaming slightly in the cool air.

“They must be out back,” said Linneá. She picked up the mug of tea and carried it with her while making her way towards the back of the house with Serana. Familiar voices could be heard through the door leading outside, so they stepped out to join them around the small fire pit tucked against the back of Elysium.

Cain and Gwyn sat around the crackling flames while Salihn laughed in delight at the illusions Gwyn cast above their heads. Soaring hawks, cartwheeling dragons, bounding foxes, and leaping rabbits pranced through the air in a multi-color array of glowing sparks, shimmering ice, and searing flames before erupting into a shower of harmless stars that cascaded down over them all.

“There you three are! Here, Gwynnie, I think you left your tea inside.” Handing the mug to her, Linneá looked at the light show with an impressed wonder. “I didn’t know you could cast amusements like that!”

“Back already?” asked Gwyn. She took the tea with a smile and sipped from it, pleased it hadn’t gone cold. “Thought for sure we wouldn’t see you until after dark.” Another spell loosed from her hand and a lumbering bear of carved ice sauntered through the air. “I had a lot of free time at my cabin. Practiced any magick that wasn’t destruction.”

“They’re beautiful, Gwyn!” said Serana. “And there wasn’t much to see in Shimmermist.” She scooped up and her daughter squeezed her tightly. “Were you good for your aunt and uncle?”

“You never have to ask that, sis,” said Cain. “She’s wonderful and you two are doing an amazing job with Salihn. Staying for dinner? There’s boar roasting in there and Gwyn’s shipment of brandy from Daggerfall arrived today. Could be a fun night!”

What do you think, love? Take a break from the palace for a night?

Absolutely, came Linneá’s unspoken answer. We can help them depart tomorrow morning, too. Least we can do.

“Okay, we’re in,” said Serana. “I’ll go fix the drinks.”

“Wait for me, hon,” said Gwyn. “I need to check on dinner.”

This post has been edited by Kane: Jul 24 2025, 01:35 PM

[Acadian]

Well, Linneá shouting herself into a dragon certainly made an impression! Nice to have telepathic probing backup from Kyne the mouse to help try and suss out Delphine as well.

What a lovely breakfast back at Elysium! I wonder what Gwyn and Kyne talked about during their walk. Another day of elfling watching for Gwyn and Cain as Linneá and Serana explore yet another empty falmer lair. Something’s going on for sure.

Back at Elysium, Gwyn is conjuring magical sights for Salihn – very cool.

[Kane]

Speculation about the Falmer will be running rampant for sure!

[Grits]

That was a lovely breakfast. Luckily I still had some coffee left while reading about it.

How fun to see Cain and Gwyn relaxing with Salihn. I like that the time passed quickly for them while they were looking after their niece. Now, I wonder what Kyne and Gwyn were talking about?

[Kane]

Grits: wasn't a pivotal walk or anything like that, just an attempt at moving on.

|-----------------|

Chapter XV - Into the Woods


The barest hint of morning sunlight eked in through the window of Elysium’s master bedroom. All was quiet in the home of Kyne’s champions, save for two slightly sweaty and panting individuals lying as nature intended on top of their blankets. With the brisk autumn air cooling down the land, Cain contemplated donning a robe and heading to the kitchen for an early coffee, but he didn’t want to wake up their guests across the house by bustling about. Gwyn, however, was content to remain in bed for now. She lay on her back with her knees clutched to her chest, cradling her lover’s seed. Never once in her life did Gwyn think she would be where she was now, longing beyond reason for motherhood.

Knowing that sleep would not come again ere it was time to depart, she opened her eyes and turned her head to find Cain staring at her with a thoughtful interest. “What is it?” she asked him. “You okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” said Cain. “It’s just that… I don’t think I ever got around to asking you something I’ve been curious about for a long time. It’s not important, I just always wondered.”

“Ask me what? Don’t be coy, just spit it out.”

Cain reached over and ran his fingers through her long, curly hair. It had turned a very bright shade of pastel pink a few moments ago, jolting the forgotten question to the forefront of his mind. “Your real hair color - what is it?”

“Seriously? That’s what you want to talk about right now? Possibly one of the most intimate times in our lives and you ask me what my hair color is?”
Cain shrugged. “Color me curious,” he winked.

“God was that an awful joke,” groaned Gwyn. “I think you were born to be a father.”

“Still haven’t answered me.”

“Because I [censored] hate my natural hair.” She sighed heavily and closed her eyes again. “I started changing it after I left home, which means no one alive has ever seen it. I thought it would be a good way to disguise myself if the authorities ever tracked me down. It took me a while at first to realize it was changing on its own, too. Just another part of me that’s been tainted I guess.” Then Gwyn looked over at him again. “If it was anyone else asking…”

Her face scrunched up in concentration for a few seconds to get the shade right; and then Gwyn’s hair faded back to a hue no one had witnessed in over fifteen years, and Cain’s eyes widened in surprise at the gorgeous locks of strawberry blonde hair. It accented Gwyn’s own eyes perfectly and let each freckle on her soft, pale face jump out spectacularly. And then, just as quickly as it had come, it was gone again, replaced by a dark blue.

“Satisfied?”

“It was beautiful, Gwyn. Otherworldly, even. I love you so much and you don’t ever have to wear it again if you don’t want to.”


The full light of dawn finally came and roused all the inhabitants of Elysium, including their guests. Breakfast with Linneá, Serana, and Salihn ended up being a relatively quick affair while everyone readied themselves and their gear for travel or a return home. Once his sisters and niece had vanished, Cain set out the front door with Gwyn by his side only to find an unexpected surprise. And not a good one. A suad of six men and women armed to the teeth and bearing the uniform of the High King’s elite guard stood at attention by the front gate.

“Lord Windborne,” saluted the captain smartly. “The king has assigned us to be your escort while you traverse the many roads, woods, and valleys of the land. We are at your beck and call and will see to it that you remain unscathed while under out watchful eye.”

“Oh hell no,” Gwyn half shouted. She pulled Cain a few steps back towards their home, out of earshot, and raised a finger up under his chin. “No [censored] way am I traipsing around the province with a merry band of soldiers. You need to do something about this, Cain Windborne, or I will march right back into that house and leave you to do this job on your own.”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” said Cain, scratching his head. “Dad knows we can handle ourselves and he would have said something to me earlier.”

“Would he have? Because it sounds to me like you’d have refused him outright.”

“I definitely would have. Especially since we planned on recalling home from some of the cities to rest and resupply before starting out again. These soldiers would be stuck who knows where.”

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

Cain sighed and grabbed her hand. “Time for a detour to Solitude.”

-----

“This qualifies as a city in Skyrim?”

Cain and Gwyn had just passed underneath Falkreath’s eastern gate when the Breton stopped to survey the scene in front of them with her hands on her narrow hips. A couple dozen homes, one tavern, a lumber mill, blacksmith, a trading post, an apothecary, and not much else lined the road through the small southern capital of Falkreath Hold. Pine trees towered over the quaint stone buildings with thatched roofs, and a massive cemetery tucked away behind a farmhouse drew the macabre attention of most passersby. Their destination, the Jarl’s Longhouse, stood betwixt the branching road cutting straight through the main thoroughfare.

“Crosswych is bigger than this pile of deer [censored] and it’s a forgotten village in bumfuck Glenumbra!”

“Keep your voice down, Gwyn,” muttered Cain. “The last thing we need is for a guard to hear us and run off to the Jarl.”

“Do they even know who we are? Without that ridiculous posse your dad wanted around, we just look like normal travelers, no?”

“Still don’t want to risk it. My face isn’t exactly unknown. Remember it being plastered all over the newspapers in Wayrest? I’m sure the gossip here in Skyrim was just as bad, if not worse.”

“Yeah, all right, you might have a point there,” admitted Gwyn. “So, what’s first? Dinner or do we just get the formalities out of the way?”

“Formalities. Then we can discuss our next move over drinks.”

“Another cheap date it is!”

Cain smiled and then took a seat on a stray section of log near the sawmill. He rooted through his pack in search of the dossier on Skyrim’s Jarls to give himself a quick refresher on Falkreath’s before barging into the longhouse. Once he had it out and opened, Gwyn sat on his lap to read it with him.

“Who’s up first?” asked Gwyn.

“Skulnar. Former Legate of the Imperial Legion that was stationed in Falkreath back during the Civil War. Says here he took over following a unanimous vote by the townsfolk. He must have been very well liked if the locals lined up behind him like that. The former Jarl seems to have been arrested on corruption charges some ten years ago at the behest of the former High Queen, Elisif the Fair.”

“Skulnar is definitely a Nord name,” mused Gwyn. “Prepare yourself for boisterous claims and more than a few pints of mead.”

“Dunno,” said Cain. “Being that he served in the Legion, he’s likely to be more professional than say, Jon Battle-Born of Whiterun.” He scanned through the important points a few more times and then stowed the small book away again. “Shall we?”

“After you, my liege,” teased Gwyn.

She gave him a kiss and together they stood up and headed for the first of many meetings with Skyrim’s ruling elites. The first thing they noticed upon stepping over the hearth was that Jarl Skulnar’s longhouse had a relaxed and welcoming atmosphere. High windows offered plenty of sunlight to illuminate the spacious hall, and a large fire pit at the center offered more than a few tables and chairs arrayed cozily around it. Potted plants were placed in the corners, and local flowers sprouted from hanging baskets dangling in the air above or from the undersides of stairs climbing to loft spaces on either side of the building. The Jarl himself appeared to be otherwise engaged, for his humble throne stood empty at the far end.

“Hail, friends!” came an unfamiliar voice. A burly Nord approached them from a small room tucked under the left-hand stairs. “I’m Helvard, the Jarl’s steward. How can the court help you?”

“You’re up, handsome,” whispered Gwyn. “Don’t forget your manners and you’ll be fine. You’ve got this.”

Cain squeezed her hand in thanks and then responded to the steward. “Well met, Helvard. I’m Cain Windborne, firstborn of High King Kirin Windborne and I seek an audience with Jarl Skulnar.”

“Ah! We were wondering when you’d visit our neck of the woods,” said Helvard. “Redguard, eh? Wager you’re pretty good in a spat. And who’s the young lady with you?”

“Helvard, this is Gwyndala Louvain. She is my, er, - “

“His fiancé,” chimed Gwyn. “Nice to meet you, Helvard.”

That came out of nowhere and almost kneecapped Cain. He found himself staring at Gwyn after she said the words, and he didn’t snap out of it until she dug an elbow into his ribs. If Helvard noticed, he didn’t comment on it.

“Pleasure’s all mine, Ms. Louvain. Now then, follow me to Dead Man’s Drink - boss is mingling with the inn patrons this afternoon and he’ll be more than happy to speak to you there.”

They followed Helvard out of the longhouse and fell in line behind him on the to the local tavern. Cain kept glancing sideways at Gwyn, who seemed completely nonplussed by the way she had tripped him up in front of the steward. And for the first time since Anska’s death, he found himself wishing he could hear the thoughts of the person standing next to him. But that was a subject they’d danced carefully around thus far.

For her part, Gwyn apparently sensed the anxiety rolling off of her normally cool partner anyway. “Relax, idiot. Fiancé just sounds more mature and important than ‘girlfriend’ or ‘mate’. I didn’t pledge my undying devotion as an aside in a conversation with a stranger. That’s a man’s job and I’m a proper lady who knows her worth.” She flashed him a devious grin just before the door to Dead Man’s Drink closed behind them with a thud. “You’ve a lot to learn about living in the upper echelons of society.”

The presence of the Jarl led the tavern towards becoming a very rowdy affair. Loud voices clamored for attention and mugs of mead clanked together while the townsfolk bustled around their leader and vied for his attention. It all came to an abrupt end when Helvard grabbed an empty pot resting on the edge of the cooking spit and bang loudly on it with a wooden spoon.

Their attention to the steward now complete, he dismissed them back to their own tables or back out into the streets. “The Jarl has business to attend now. You can join us again next week!”

Most folk went back to work but a few lingered at the bar, swaying drunkenly over foaming tankards and bottles of ale. An elderly Imperial woman behind said bar absentmindedly cleaned an empty mug while watching the newcomers curiously and wondering what could be urgent enough to prematurely end her busiest day of the week.

Helvard joined the Jarl at a nearby table and brought Skulnar up to speed before sidling up the bar. “Three meads and a glass of red wine, Valga.”

“What’s the occasion? And are they worth the gold I just lost?”

“That’s the High King’s son, so you tell me.”

Valga’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “By the Nine, is it really? I’ll get the drinks straightaway!”

-----

Night had fallen over Skyrim by the time a proper meal made its way to the table of Cain and Gwyn. A warm stew of root vegetables and ox tail steamed away fragrantly in ceramic crocks alongside a loaf of bread and two goblets of wine. The tavern crowd picked up a little bit since the Jarl and his steward departed, leaving their guests to a quiet evening and another quaint date.

“Should we head home tonight? Or move on to the next town in the morning?”

Cain slid his empty bowl aside and unfurled a map, spreading it across the table between them. “We’re pretty far south, so it might be a good idea to recall. S’pose we should hit either Riften or Markarth next, and both options are one hell of a ways away. We might be further ahead to pay for the carriage out of Whiterun and then continue on foot.”

“Do you think all the Jarls will be so… down to earth? Like Skulnar is? Won’t be such a bad time if they are.”

“Doubtful,” said Cain. “Dad’s notes mention a few of them skew towards difficult.”

“Great.”

“We’ll be fine, Gwyn. They won’t be expecting my secret weapon.”

“And that is what exactly? Some sort of suave charm you’ve kept under wraps?”

“No, it’s you, dork,” laughed Cain. “I’ve watched you make a literal Divine cower after she wronged you. Woe betides to any poor fop that tries to be difficult with me.” Cain refilled their wine glasses and then continued on: “how are things with you and Kyne anyway?”

Gwyn sipped from her glass while she worked out how best to answer that question. The walk she’d taken with Kyne the last time they were together had been somewhat productive, and the Windborne family guardian seemed genuinely intent on righting her wrongs. By the end of it, Gwyn had promised they could spend more time together, just so that they could get to know one another better without influence from Cain and his sisters. When they were supposed to fit that in was a different matter entirely, especially if Gwyn stayed on the road with Cain for the foreseeable future.

“Um. Better, I guess,” said Gwyn. “I don’t get the urge to slap her anymore, so progress? What about you? Did you take your dad’s advice?”

“I’m trying to,” said Cain. “Still not easy, though. I’ve spent so much time and energy making sure exactly that would never happen to you again, and the moment I let you out of my sight…”

“It’s not your fault. You know that, right? And I was serious when I said you deserve the relationship you’ve built with her. Don’t throw that away on my account. Kyne and I will come to an understanding eventually. We can both be a part of your life.”

“I think I’ll look forward to that day.”

Cain finished his wine and surveyed the muted crowd at Dead Man’s Drink. This tavern lacked any sort of charm even moreso than the Bannered Mare and it was not the sort of place he envisioned taking Gwyn to. Even if she had only been teasing them about expensive restaurants in Daggerfall, why couldn’t they go to places like that once in a while? And why couldn’t now be one of those times?

He decided on a whim that it was as good a time as any to go for it. “How often have you been to Daggerfall? Anything meaningful ever happen to you there? A pivotal moment that evokes a strong memory?”

“Where the hell did that come from?” asked a confused Gwyn. “I thought we were talking about Kyne?”

“This place is a dump,” said Cain, lowering his voice. “If you can focus on something tangible, recall us to Daggerfall and we’ll have a real date like I promised we could.”

It was times like this that reminded Gwyn how she had fallen head over heels for this man. Here they were, traversing Skyrim for one of the most important things in his life, and Cain would rather take her galivanting around High Rock on a whim. She still didn’t understand what she’d done with her life to end up by his side, but Gwyn refused to ever take it for granted.

“I’ve got a better idea,” she said. “Take us home. There is something we need to discuss.”

“Are you sure?” She caught Cain off-guard for the second time since their arrival in Falkreath, and this time he was really stymied. “I don’t mind, you know…”

“I know you don’t. But that sort of thing doesn’t mean as much to me as it used to, and we’ll have time for those sorts of adventures one day. Right now, there is only one place I want to be: at home, sitting by the fire with your arms around me.”

This post has been edited by Kane: Jul 30 2025, 11:54 AM

[Acadian]

So Gwyn’s natural hair color is pretty nice! I suppose to others, the way it changes seems random but I would be surprised if Cain doesn’t fully suss out what each color means regarding her mood.

So far so good as the royal couple begin their tour of Skyrim’s holds. Falkreath was probably a good warm up for the remaining holds, some of which promise to be more challenging.

Fun that Cain thinks of Gwyn as his secret weapon for disarming any annoying jarls or stewards they might encounter as they continue! I imagine she could make for a rather terrifying high queen if wronged.

[Grits]

Strawberry blonde curls! Gwyn’s natural hair sounds gorgeous. But color-changing hair is hard to beat.

Falkreath seems like a fun town, if a bit rustic. Gwyn is keeping Cain on his toes with that surprise fiancé announcement!

The dialog between Cain and Gwyn is absolutely sparkling. The Dead Man’s Drink scene is a favorite!

[Kane]

Acadian: I could see her maybe going back to it some day. Gwyn has made a lot of progress but her trauma still influences a lot of who she is. I think if life continues to trend up for her, she'll slowly become more of her old self again. Falkreath was definitely a warmup round, and Markarth will be a tall order by comparison. Might see weaponized Gwyn by that point!

Grits: I think a lot of Cain's family would be envious of her hair. Outside of Kirin being a redhead, the rest of them have deep brown to black hair! Rustic is an understatement for Falkreath, It's a podunk.

|-----------------|

Chapter XVI – The Answers We Seek

A small column of fire twisted idly in the air above Linneá. Her unfocused eyes gazed right through the incendiary magick while her raised hand lazily flicked it about. This went on for nearly thirty minutes until whisking dangerously close to one of the bookshelves, at which point a rush of snow-laden air from Serana extinguished the flames.

“Hey, what’d you do that for?”

“Because we didn’t spend six years collecting those books for you to torch them, Elle. Find another way to focus your thoughts.” Serana went back to reading one of her new spell tomes, but she barely made it through half a page before her face reddened, and she shifted in her seat. “Damn it, not like that! We don’t have time! School lets out in ten minutes, and we need to pick up Salihn!”

“When have I ever needed more than five minutes with you?”

“Not now, Elle!”

“Ah, you’re no fun,” Linneá giggled. “Come on, we might as well go early.”

They departed for the Solitude Schoolhouse, only stopping by their residence to grab warm cloaks for the stroll through town. Mid-afternoon brought bustling streets under a garish sun and a blustery breeze that promised the arrival of an early winter. The schoolhouse was one of the High King’s first initiatives after securing the throne and flexing his new authoritative powers, citing the lack of education in Skyrim compared to its neighboring provinces. The teacher, formal Jarl and High Queen of Solitude, Elisif the Fair, volunteered for her role soon after ceding her throne, and she proved to be a wonderful boon for the budding program. Construction of the new building had begun almost immediately, and the modest stone structure opened just over a year later, tucked between Vittoria Vici’s home and the Temple of the Divines courtyard.

A line of parents formed outside the door, with Linneá and Serana joining its ranks while they waited for the two o’clock bell to toll.

Did the first courier make it back yesterday? Serana asked her wife silently.

Uh uh. Da’s hopeful they will show up this afternoon, but that window is slowly slipping away, too.

What do you think they’ll have found out?

My guy says nothing good.

Mine too. Any new thoughts on all of this?

The bell rang loud and clear from the nearby chapel, cutting their inaudible conversation short. The other parents began to stir restlessly until the arched wooden schoolhouse doors opened with a thud, and children of all ages rushed out to meet their family. Salihn usually exited last and today was no different. She approached them with her hand still held by Elisif.

“Hi, sweetie!” said Serana. “How were your classes today?”

Salihn started rattling off all the things they did, but it went over Linneá’s head soon after she began. A solider bearing the High King’s crest trotted past them at double-time, bound straight for the Blue Palace. It had to be the courier, which meant Kirin would no doubt be summoning them the moment they returned home.

But her attention to the man was quickly broken by her daughter’s arms squeezing around Linneá’s hips. “Hi mom!”

“Salihn! Wherever have you been all day?” Linneá asked her in mock surprise. “Your mother and I were simply fraught with worry!”

“Mooooom! Don’t be silly, you brought me here yourself this morning!”

“Oh, yeah. Well, are you ready to head home, munchkin?”

“Mhm!”

“Then home it is!” said Serana. “You alright there, Elle?” she added in an aside to her wife. “Looked like you zoned out for a moment.”

“Courier went past.”

“Ah. Guess we’ll be headed straight for the study, then.”

The piercing call of a hawk soaring high overhead served to reinforce that estimation as the familiar-looking bird descended towards the palace and disappeared behind the ramparts. Kirin and Kyne would no doubt both be waiting for their arrival to dissect whatever news finally arrived.

-----

“I don’t understand how this is possible,” said Linneá shaking her head in confusion.

She sat in one of the chairs opposite Kirin’s desk and read the initial report from the scouts dispatched to Raldbthar. The vast Dwemer city was empty, save for the ancient automatons still mindless patrolling the metal halls of their forsaken masters. The report indicated that bandits still foolishly inhabited the outer halls, but the Falmer and their pet Chaurus were all gone from the deeper chambers.

“Nor do I,” said Kirin. “What’s more, is that there are no signs of where they could have gone, either.”

“That’s not too surprising. The Falmer are very cunning, and they excel at avoiding detection. If something drove them from their homes, I could see them being very careful about covering their tracks.” Serana opened her eyes after skimming the notes through her wife’s thoughts. “How soon can we expect other reports like this?”

“It’ll take some time. Raldbthar is close to Windhelm but the other well-known locations are harder to reach. I’d guess another week or two before we hear anything about Alftand, Mzark, or Mzinchaleft. And the remote hives like Gloomreach even longer.”

Kyne had been looming nearby silently and fell into her own thoughts on the matter. They were given quite the mystery with these sudden absences of Falmer, and she did not feel comfortable having to wait and see. Neither did Linneá, based on the way her mind raced ahead with ill regard for couching her intentions. If she knew her thoughts were spilling over, she didn’t let it stop her.

“What about Irkngthand?” asked Serana. “It’s not far from Raldbthar – did you dispatch scouts there, too?”

“No need,” said Kirin. “The entrance was buried by an avalanche years ago. I asked mum to fly past, and she confirmed that it’s still inaccessible.”
Linneá tossed the report moodily on the desk and crossed her arms. “I hate sitting around and waiting for answers. I feel nothing good will come of whatever is happening here, and twiddling our thumbs feels like a waste of time.”

She leaned back in the chair and stared aimlessly up at the ceiling while racking her brain for anything she may have overlooked. Nothing came to mind. There were no other places her and Serana could check without being away from home over an extended period of time, and neither of them desired to leave Salihn in someone else’s care for weeks on end while they hunted ghosts across all of Skyrim. Someone had to do something.

And then it came to her… “Do we know where the lovebirds are off to next?”

“Cain and Gwyn?” asked Kirin. “Uh, I think they’ve decided Markarth or Riften would be next on the itinerary.”

“Perfect! They’ll pass within a dozen miles of Gloomreach if they head west next. Let’s have them check it out. Mum can stick with them and report back the moment they surface.”

“Hm. That could work. The scouts weren’t due to get there until after they hit Arkngthamz, so we’ll definitely get another piece to the puzzle quicker. Do we know if they’re back from Falkreath yet?”

“I’m expecting them home tonight, my child,” said Kyne. “I saw them arrive in Falkreath a couple hours ago.”

“Wouldn’t they stay on the road to their next destination?” said Serana.

“Not likely, love,” said Linneá. “Our brother is a practical sort, and he probably saw how much ground there is to cover between Falkreath and the nearest hold capitals. Odds are he’ll want to resupply and depart from Elysium again.”

“Makes sense,” nodded Serana. “Shall we pay them a visit tonight?”

“Tomorrow morning,” countered Kyne. “Let them have the night to themselves.”

-----

Later that night, Linneá and Serana lounged in a hot bath in one of the repurposed dungeons far beneath the ground floor of the Blue Palace while Salihn slept soundly in her bed, their living quarters sealed magickally against anyone but immediate family. Eyes closed, they both soaked quietly in the steaming waters to quell the stress of the ongoing mystery plaguing an otherwise pleasant life. Linneá wished there was more they could do but was content for now to let her father’s men – and her brother – handle the next steps. And there was still the other matter that she, Serana, and Kyne had been dancing carefully around.

“We’ll have to tell dad eventually, Elle. Especially if it becomes relevant.”

“It already is relevant. I just worry that letting the cat of out of the bag means it will stay out. It’s possible that the two of us are the only people alive who are aware of Auri-El’s Chantry and Gelebor. Er, other than mum that is. But she doesn’t count.”

“You do know that means we’ll be the ones that have to go there, right? How is that going to work? The Forgotten Vale is far away, dear. Weeks through rough country on foot.”

“I know,” Linneá grimaced. “As much as it pains me to say, I think only one of us will be undertaking that journey.”

Serana felt the sadness behind that statement and couldn’t help but feel the same way. She thought back to when they first met in Dimhollow Crypt and realized that the longest they’d ever been apart since then was when Linneá had been sent to retrieve the Bloodstone Chalice shortly after becoming a vampire. In the years that followed, they were always together, save for the nerve-wracking hours Serana endured while her wife ventured into Apocrypha alone to rescue Lydia. And now they faced the prospect of being separated for much longer than either of them were comfortable with.

At least we still have our thoughts, Linneá broke in. I’ll miss your touch. The delicate fragrance of your hair. But at least we’ll never be truly apart.

I know that, and I love you, Elle. It’s Salihn I worry about.

Me, too. But she’s strong and she’ll have you and her grandparents to be with. It’ll just make my return all the better.

Linneá slid over to the same side of the deep ovular bath as Serana and leaned her head against her shoulder. “We should probably head up to bed now.”

“Uh uh,” tutted Serana. “You don’t get to flirt with me the way you did earlier and get off scot free. You’re not leaving this tub until I’m satisfied.

-----

Dawn broke the very next morning to screams of surprise that the door to Linneá and Serana’s bedroom door did little to muffle. Kyne had stood impassively in the corner waiting with endless patience for her charges to awaken from their slumber in time to take their daughter back to school. Salihn had awoken and got herself ready under the goddess’ guidance and been whisked off to breakfast by her grandmother. But it was getting late and the two ladies snoring away should be well awake, despite their late-night escapades.

The aforementioned scream was a result of a minor thunderclap summoned directly above Linneá’s head. In hindsight, Kyne thought maybe a more delicate approach would have been more prudent, especially since the resulting jolt into alert wakefulness came with a powerful ward cast instinctually by Linneá to protect herself and Serana.

“WHAT THE [censored], MUM!? ARE YOU TRYING GIVE US A HEART ATTACK!?”

She sat up in bed, panting from the rush of adrenaline and glaring through the shimmering barrier of magick. Serana too looked breathless and wide-eyed by the sudden arousal.

“You two do realize you have less than ten minutes until your daughter leaves for class, don’t you?”

“Damn it,” grumbled Serana, rubbing her eyes. “Did we really sleep that late?”

“Yes, you did. Very unlike yourselves, I might add. Is there any particular reason for it?”

“Nothing you need to worry about, mum,” said Linneá. She dispelled the ward and leapt from bed to get dressed hastily. Serana followed suit under the harried eye of Kyne who watched with an amused smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Did she at least get something to eat?”

“Don’t fret, Linn, your mother and I took care of it.”

“Knew we kept you around for a reason. We’ll see you at Elysium later?”

“Always.”

The goddess departed at the same time they rushed from the bedroom and headed for their favorite dining room. Salihn was halfway through a plate of eggs and toast when they burst into the room, apologizing profusely to the little girl who simply shrugged and kept on eating.

“Late night?” asked Lydia with a raised eyebrow.

“Sort of,” said Serana. “Thanks for bailing us out.”

“Aren’t you two supposed to go see your brother this morning?”

“Mmf.” Linneá gave up trying to speak round a mouthful of cobbler and nodded instead.

“I’ll take her to school, then. You two eat up and get going – don’t want to miss Cain and Gwyn.”

Linneá thanked her mother profusely and kissed the top of Salihn’s head. “Eat when we get back?” she asked Serana.

“That’s fine with me.”

Goodbye embraces were given and in the blink of an eye there erupted another scream of surprise for the second time in under twenty minutes, followed by a crash and the shattering of a ceramic mug. Gwyn stood unclothed in the kitchen of Elysium Estate, the array of tattoos covering her body glowing a deep scarlet to match the readied spell undulating menacingly in her palms. A half-dressed Cain tore out of the master bedroom seconds later with a dagger in his hand and he stopped short at the scene unraveling in the dining room.

“YOU COULD HAVE GIVEN US A WARNING!” shouted Gwyn, still naked and completely unashamed. “OR AT LEAST RECALLED OUTSIDE OF THE [censored] HOUSE!”

Cain tried his best not to laugh as he ducked back into their room in search of a robe for Gwyn to wear while they apparently had guests in the house. He found one of her old patchy and frayed dresses that made it out of Gwyn’s old cabin before it burned down and returned to the kitchen with it. She snatched it from his hands and pulled it over head and then crossed her arms in a sulking manner.

“You can uncover your eyes now, idiots.” She waited until Linneá and Serana sheepishly lowered their hands before continuing: “Now do you mind telling what the [censored] you are doing here? You do realize Cain and I need to get on the road again within the hour?”

“Uh, good morning, sis,” said Linneá, trying for a disarming smile.

Gwyn wasn’t having it and remained silent.

“We have a small job for you along the way,” offered Serana. “Dad’s orders.”

“Whatever,” said Gwyn. “Come help clean up this mess. And then fix me a tea, since you ruined this one.”

[Acadian]

Schoolmarm Elisef the Fair!

All the falmer dens checked so far are devoid of the little snow elves. Not a bad plan to speed the checking of more of them. Looks like Cain and Gwyn will get a detour that may be more interesting than the grand tour of Skyrim’s holds.

So Kyne thinks that waking Linneá and Serana with a thunderclap over their heads might have been a bit much? Ya think!?!

I would have thought that popping in to the kitchen of Elysium should have been a safe choice. Who knew they’d encounter a naked Gwyn?

[Kane]

Just a minor clap! One never knows what to expect with Gwyn. However it's most likely she was fixing a tea to enjoy in bed.

|---------------------|

Chapter XVII – Chasing Memories

After twenty-nine harsh years of life that no one should ever deserve, Gwyndala Louvain finally discovered true bliss in the arms of an honest and uncommonly kind Redguard. She relaxed in his arms by a fireside at their home, completely content with her life in a way she’d once only dreamed of. Well… mostly content. Weary from the day, Cain had dozed off before she could broach a touchy subject and his loud snores were bordering on obnoxious.

Their visit to Falkreath went very well and Gwyn surprised even herself with how much she enjoyed the jaunt south by his side, and she even got to have a little fun teasing him with the improvised fiancé bit in the Jarl’s Longhouse. Now she found herself truly pondering over his reaction. Was he already thinking about that sort of thing? They’d only been together for about a month at this point – did he see the two of them being wed? It didn’t surprise Gwyn in the least, considering they’d been a part of each other’s lives for much longer than a month.

I suppose it’s just a formality at this point, thought Gwyn. And I did tell him to put a baby in me…

She craned her neck up and studied his sleeping face. Things had come so far between the two of them since that day in the mountains above Evermor. Further than she’d ever thought possible. But there still remained a singular subject Gwyn found herself nervous to bring up: Serana’s advice on how to ease the burden of her dark past.

In the time since they’d spoken, she’d thought about it constantly, and now, weeks later, Gwyn finally felt that she was ready to take that next step with Cain. The unanswered question was whether or not he could bring himself to do such a thing after how it ended last time. Gwyn was there at his worst… she knew exactly how much the loss of that connection with Anska broke him. Dare he take that risk again?

She pulled herself away from his torso and sat up, running a gentle finger along his cheek to gently rouse the sleeping man. Cain’s eyelids fluttered and then opened groggily. He rubbed at them with his palms and smiled at Gwyn.

“Everything okay?”

“Mhmm,” said Gwyn. “I just, uh, wanted to talk to you about something. But if you’re tired, we can wait until the morning.”
“I’m never too tired for you.”

“And that’s why I love you. This is something serious, though. I need you to be aware of that.”

Cain sat up and looked at her with concern, his fatigue suddenly forgotten. “What is it, Gwyn? What’s got you so hesitant?”

Her stomach began to churn uncomfortably. Gwyn had been rehearsing this conversation in her head for a couple of days now, but it didn’t actually help now that the moment had arrived. There was a certain level of uncertainty bordering on fearfulness as to what she would do if he said no. It was a lot to ask of Cain – much more than he’d taken on with Anska. Gwyn knew without a doubt that he wanted to help her deal with the past in any way that he could but sharing that trauma in their minds meant that her beloved would experience the darkness the same way that Gwyn did every minute of every day.

She swallowed hard and made the leap. The hell with it. This is who I am, and I know what I want.

“I want… No, not want. I need you to do something for us. I – “

“You want me to link our minds.”

She nodded while her body filled with the dreaded weight of overpowering nervousness.

“Gwyn, you know that I would do anything in my power to help you…”

Oh, [censored]. No no no no no! Don’t do this to me!

“…but are you certain you want to be in here?” finished Cain while pointing at the side of his head. “I know what I’m getting into with you when we become that intimate, even if I don’t understand it yet. But it’s not just me that you will be dealing with.”

“I don’t… what do you mean?” asked Gwyn. Her heart rate began to settle, but she was still on edge.

“Sharing a mind leaves impressions, for lack of a better word. And despite my making peace with it, there are still echoes of Anska in there. Her thoughts, her memories, her desires - all of who she was left a mark that I don’t think can ever be erased, and you will be privy to it. Her consciousness may be absent, but on some level, I still carry her with me.”

Gwyn realized in this moment just how much that meant. It explained a lot about why Cain was in such pain for so long a time following Anska’s death – why he had so much trouble letting go. And why it took the direct intervention of the Divines to finally allow him a measure of closure.
“I never, um… I never would have considered that. Why haven’t you said anything about it before?”

“Because it wouldn’t have changed anything,” said Cain. “I love you completely and that’s why I need to make sure you understand what you’d be getting into. If you’re worried about some sort of conflict between the two of you, then cast it aside. I know what we are and what we have. You will find nothing other than the devotion that I carry for you.”

Gwyn saw the truth in his eyes, and she felt no doubt in his words, but they had still caught her flat-footed. The echoes of his late fiancé were not a thing she would ever have guessed were something to be contended with when they became joined in that manner. More importantly, however, Gwyn did not feel intimidated by that in the least. Her feelings for Cain were clear.

“You can take some more time to think about if you’d like,” said Cain. “I’d give anything you have you in there with me and – “

“Hush,” interrupted Gwyn, putting a finger to his lips. “Just [censored] do it.”

“As you wish,” said Cain. He scooped Gwyn’s tiny frame up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. “We’ll need to be somewhere soft for this. I don’t know what will happen with you being awake for it.”

-----

Panic followed by a flash of fear surged into Cain’s mind before he heard the scream and shattering of dishware from the kitchen. By the time he made it out of his bedroom with a dagger in hand, Gwyn was already giving Linneá and Serana a loud dressing down for recalling unannounced into their home. His sisters covered their eyes in the face of Gwyn’s immodesty until she fired a silent request to Cain.

Don’t just stand there gawking, go get me something to wear!

Yes, ma’am.

Once Gwyn adorned some clothes and settled down, she bustled around the kitchen again with Serana while Linneá joined her brother at the dining room table. They made small talk for a few minutes until they were joined by the other two bearing a platter of freshly brewed tea and coffee. Cain wasted no time in pouring a cup of the caffeinated liquid and he sipped it gratefully.

“Long night?” asked Serana. “Elle and I have had a morning, too.”

“Yeah, we were both up late,” said Cain. “I think it was worth it though.” His brown eyes twinkled while Gwyn rolled hers and snorted loudly. “Yes, dear?” he asked her.

“Quit being coy,” said Gwyn. She turned to his sisters and pointed at the side of her head. “He’s in here now. And vice versa. It was… an experience. For the both of us.”

There passed a brief moment of silence until Linneá fished a Septim out from her belt satchel and handed it to her wife. “I don’t get how you know these things, Ana, I really don’t.”

“Uh, what just happened?” said Cain. “Did you have a bet on us?”

“Yep,” grinned Linneá. “It was only a matter of time before you two made the link, but I figured there’d be some stuff to work through first. However, my better half excels at reading people, and she noticed the adoring way in which you often stare at our brother, Gwyn, and felt you’d want him as close as possible.”

Gwyn’s eyebrows furrowed. “I feel like past me would have been really [censored] annoyed at the both of you right now, but I’m actually not surprised at all. Mind telling us why you’re here?”

“Got a map?”
Cain nodded and went to grab it from their traveling supplies. He unfurled it over the center of the table and set their mugs on the corners to keep it spread. Serana pulled a piece of charcoal out from her satchel this time and marked a spot near the southern foot of the Druadach mountains with an ‘X’.

“Dad needs you stop here on your way to Markarth. It’s a decent sized series of caves called Gloomreach and there ought to be Falmer living there.”
“Ought to be?” said Cain. “Guess the hunt doesn’t go well?”

“Something’s [censored],” said Linneá. “And I don’t like it. I am glad you and Gwyn didn’t wait around to make your connection, though. Serana and I were discussing next steps if the scouts have similar reports, and a long trip to somewhere hidden will likely be in order. The kind of trip that we can’t both go on. If it comes to that, I want you to come with me, Gwyn.”

“Me? What about our travels? I can’t leave Cain to deal with those fops all on his own.”

Her reaction came off as genuine to his sisters, but Cain felt the anxiety creeping up in her mind and knew that Gwyn really did not want to leave his side. The idea was borderline frightening to her and would take some time to get used to.

“He’ll have to manage on his own,” admitted Linneá. “Or with some guards.”

“Linn, this is bullshit!” protested Gwyn. “I don’t want to be anywhere else, and I certainly don’t want to be dragged off to some mysterious place for weeks on end! Why the hell do you need me so badly?”

“Because it will be dangerous, and I trust you to help keep me safe. For Ana and Salihn.”

-----

Later that same evening found Cain and Gwyn sitting around a fire just off the road. In the distance, lights glowed dimly in the windows of Fort Greymoor seated on a small rise that overlooked the tundra on every side. They could have stayed inside the safety of the fort’s walls, but Gwyn didn’t want to sleep in the barracks with a bunch of self-important soldiers.

The news brought by their morning guests had caused a point of consternation they’d been talking about it off and on throughout the day. But, at this moment, Gwyn rested her head on his shoulder while staring aimlessly into the dancing flames and tried not to think any about it anymore with poor results.

“I’d just as soon say all three of us should go,” she said. “If Linn thinks this place is so important and necessary to find, then we should ditch this silly quest to meet the Jarls until a better time.”

“That’d be up to my father. And this is something I was supposed to have done last year.” Cain took her hand and held it to his lips for a kiss. “Let’s not dwell on it anymore. We still have our trip to Markarth together.”

“Fine,” grumbled Gwyn.

She stared into the fire some more and thought instead of the night prior to this one. The actual process Cain used to link their minds had been fascinating to experience initially as an observer, and the actual depths of power in his dragon blood that she peered into were unfathomable to her. Then Gwyn soon realized that the feelings of peace and serenity Serana described to her when she first suggested it were severely understated in the best possible way. The warmth and encompassing love of Cain comforting the darkness within her mind brought an inner peace she hasn’t known since she was a child.

But the image of her beloved’s face when he finally, truly understood what she carried with her seared itself into Gwyn’s memories – the abject horror of her past and the tears for her that followed drowned out everything else on her mind – including the echoes of Anska.

The hours after were difficult for the both of them, but by the time that sleep blissfully descended upon them, Gwyn felt a happiness and affection for life that was increasingly new to her.

-----

“That’s [censored] disgusting.” A grossly obnoxious squishing sound escaped from under Gwyn’s leather boots while they hiked up a rocky path towards the outline of a small cave entrance. She paused to rub the heel of her boot on the nearest rock, grimacing at the smell of animal scat. “How much further do we have to climb?”

“Another hundred yards or so,” said Cain. “Want me to carry you?”

“I’m seriously considering it. And I can only imagine what I’m gonna step in while spelunking through a goddamn Falmer hive.”

“It’ll probably just be mud, if Linn’s gut is anything to go by.”

“Here’s hoping. I preferred the road we left behind.”

Cain’s (and Linneá’s) estimation would soon prove true. The evidence began mounting just outside of the cave mouth where a few broken Falmer totems were laying, and there were a series of tracks frozen into the cold earth that led further up into the mountains. He unslung their traveling gear from his shoulders and set it behind a shrub while Gwyn readied herself with a flesh spell.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

They entered the caves of Gloomreach and the first words Cain spoke were those of the Aura Whisper Thu’um. It revealed no signs of life, other than rats, spiders, and a few bats clinging to the craggy ceiling. Further into the empty hive they crept until it descended deep down under the mountains and still there was nothing. The desolate caves eventually ended and after another whisper from his Voice revealed no hidden Falmer, they headed back for the entrance.

Just as she had with Linneá and Serana, Kyne sat perched in wait outside the cave under the mid-morning sun, eager to hear if Cain and Gwyn had learned anything new.

“Another empty one?” frowned the goddess. “Very well. I’ll let the others know.” She fell silent for a moment while relaying the news to her champion and then morphed into her familiar human form. “The roads were empty while I circled on high. Mind if I walk with you for a bit?”

Gwyn shrugged. “Makes no difference to me. Just watch your step on this trail. My boot still smells like [censored].”

“I appreciate the advice, dear,” smiled Kyne. “But I do not actually touch the ground while in this body.” She hiked up the hem of her shimmering sky-blue robes to show reveal her feet floating an inch or two above the dirt.

“Must be nice,” muttered Gwyn, still trying to scrape the dung off on a rock.

[Grits]

Yikes, a wake-up thunderclap and a naked kitchen surprise?! This family needs to learn how to knock!

The mystery of the missing Falmer continues. I wonder if they’ve been called somewhere. A massive Falmer army would be concerning, but I guess they’d want to stay where it’s dark.

Excellent news that Cain and Gywn have taken the leap and linked their minds.

[Acadian]

Wow, baby meld and now mind meld – Gwyn is certainly all in on Cain. That’s nice!

I like how you back-filled that momentous event – it quite complements the last episode’s ‘naked Gwyn in the kitchen’ scene.

It seems the mind meld will take some getting used to – for both Gwyn and Cain but I think Serana was right – a good call.

And events are already conspiring to send the prince and his. . . fiance in different directions. Well, maybe after Gloomreach and Markarth.

No surprise that the lair they checked was devoid of falmer. A nice surprise, however, that Kyne’s feet don’t touch the ground when she walks! As Gywn said, “Must be nice!”

[Kane]

Grits: knocking would definitely have helped, haha. Gwyn doesn't really have an inhibitions. And linking their minds didn't feel fair to out off any longer. They adore each other and at this point have actually been a part of each other's lives for longer than Cain was with Anska.

Acadian: back-filling events like that is a lot of fun, especially when it's for levity. They'll fall into step with their new arrangement before too long! Would that we call could float above the ground...

-----------------------------------------------

Chapter XVIII – Division

“I’m at a loss.”

Kirin stood behind his desk and stared out of the window while he spoke. The first true snow of the season blew in early that morning, blanketing the land in a brilliant white that would likely not vanish until the spring thaw. It was early for such a blanketing snowfall, but not unheard of and it served to highlight the glum mood of the Windborne patriarch.

“As am I, dad,” agreed Linneá. Alftand, Raldbthar, Arkngthamz, Mzinchaleft, Mzulft… all places that should be absolutely teeming with Falmer. And that’s not even counting the other hives that we checked.”

Is it time? Serana asked her wife quietly from the accompanying chair. To mention the Forgotten Vale?

No way around it now. Wish me luck.

Linneá took a deep breath and began: “There is one other place we need to check, dad, but it’s not on any maps, nor does anyone alive besides myself and Serana know of its existence. I can make the journey there to meet an old friend, but I’ll need someone with me, and it can’t be Ana.”

With a sigh, Kirin turned from the window and sat down across from them. “I would say I’m surprised, but at this point I would only be lying to myself. Where is this place and who would you be meeting?”

“One sec.” Linneá locked the door to the study and cast her sound dampening spell over the area before returning to her seat. “Far to the west, in the mountains bordering High Rock, there is a large series of caves and canyons that’s home to a forgotten chapel of Auri-El; the Snow Elf aspect of Auriel and Akatosh. It’s where Ana and I found Auriel’s Bow.”

“I see. I know you would not hide this without good reason, so please tell me why this lost chapel is important to the matter at hand.”

“The Chantry is overrun with Falmer tribes,” said Serana. “And they are watched over by a Snow Elf named Gelebor, who very well could be the last living member of his race.”

“A living Snow Elf?” asked Kirin in surprise. “That certainly is a secret worth keeping. How far away is this place?”

“Far,” said Linneá. “A few weeks on foot; possibly a week on horseback. I’d like to take Gwyn with me.”

Kirin weighed her request without speaking. If his daughter wanted someone by her side, then it would obviously be a dangerous undertaking. And it was also much too long a journey for them to leave Salihn behind for. It made sense to him, though he wondered how his son would take it. Or how Cain’s fiery mate would feel about the matter.

“Do you think Gwyn would agree to that? Even Cain, for that matter?”

“They’ve had two weeks to consider it,” said Linneá. “Ana and I knew it might come to this, so we gave them a heads-up. Gwyn wasn’t thrilled, but I think she understands the urgency.”

“Are they home from Markarth yet?”

Linneá nodded. “Mum says they got in two nights ago. We should be able to catch them before they depart for Riften.”

“Do it,” said Kirin.” His daughters stood up to leave, and he moved around the desk to embrace them each in turn. “I know this won’t be easy for the two of you and I’m sorry it’s necessary. Serana, you know that Lydia and I will help you as much as we can while Linn is gone. Our doors will be open for anything.”

“I know, dad,” replied Serana, wiping away tears. “You probably won’t be able to get rid of me while Elle is away. Especially when Salihn is at school. I don’t know if I can handle the solitude – I had enough of that before Elle rescued me.”

-----

Lydia knocked timidly on the door to her daughter’s living quarters. She wasn’t sure if either of them were at home until she heard a faint rustling noise that precipitated the door being pulled open. Linneá beckoned her mom in while trying to avert her gaze, but Lydia had too much practice as a mother to miss Linneá’s puffy red eyes.

“It’s harder than you thought it would be, isn’t it, hon?” Lydia placed a comforting hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “I wish I could say it gets easier.”
“I hate it,” sniffled Linneá. “The idea of not seeing them or being able to hold them for weeks is unbearable.”

Lydia glanced around the otherwise empty room. “Is it just you here right now, Linn?”

“Yeah. They went down to lunch. I’m trying to sort out what I have to pack.”

“Packing can wait. Let’s go be with them.”

“Mom, I – “

“Not up for debate. We’re going.”

“Yes, mother,” Linneá rolled her eyes. “You’re awful bossy sometimes, you know.”

Linneá stopped puttering about the room for supplies and followed Lydia downstairs to eat lunch as a family. She took her seat next to Serana, gave her a quick kiss, and put the impending quest out of her mind while they ate. Her eyes met her mother’s watchful gaze more than once and she tried not to blush from the look of pride Lydia wore so openly. Thankful that she let herself be steered away from the self-inflicted doom and gloom, Linneá ended up joining her wife and daughter for a walk through the town too, after they finished eating.

By the time the three of them made it back to their living quarters, spirits were a lot higher all around. Serana and Salihn even made Linneá sit by idly while they picked the outfits she would pack for the trip, and they promised to see her off from the city gates bright and early the next morning.

-----

Having heeded her would be sister’s advice after the last recall incident, Linneá recalled outside of Elysium Estate a short while later to break the news to her brother and Gwyn. She lingered on the doorstep for a moment before knocking – a small part of her was just a teensy bit afraid of the diminutive Breton she’d be bearing bad news to in a couple of minutes. Collecting her thoughts in silence, she was about to finally knock when said Breton’s voice rang out from inside the home.

“Just open the [censored] door already, Linn.”

Linneá grinned and let herself in. “How’d you know I was there?”

Gwyn sat at the dining room table with a glass of red wine and a dusty old book. She marked her page before answering: “the big purple flash gives it away. If you plan on refining that spell any further, I would work on doing something about that.” She poured some of the wine into an empty glass and set it across from her. “Have a drink. I’m assuming you’re here because of what we talked about a couple of weeks ago. Your little adventure?”

“How’d you know?”

“Timing makes sense. And it’s just you, which means Serana is probably at home getting your gear ready.”

“Right on both counts. Dad wants us to leave in the morning.” Linneá took a sip of wine and peered around the house. “Where’s Cain?”

“Out back meditating,” said Gwyn, shortly. “He knows you’re here.” Gwyn took a pull from her own glass and regarded Linneá quietly. She could tell that even though the journey they were to undertake together was her idea, the Nord really wished it wasn’t necessary. Linneá just wasn’t herself, and that didn’t work for Gwyn. “Look, Linn… I know you don’t want to be doing this anymore than I do, but I need you committed to the task. You said this could be dangerous? Then I need you with me out there. All of you. Don’t leave half of yourself in Solitude.”

Linneá looked taken aback by this turn of events. She thought for sure that coming here would mean dealing with an explosive version of Gwyn who did not want to leave Cain’s side for any amount of time. Instead, she found herself on the back foot and being given a pep talk as if she needed to be reined in. They must have had some long nights discussing this, thought Linneá. She’s more ready than I am.

“Your wish is my command, O wise sage of my brethren!” cracked Linneá. “Seriously though, that was a great big sister talk. I promise you I will be ready tomorrow.”

“Good. And I’m not your big sister.” Gwyn paused for the briefest of seconds to smile cheekily at her. “Not yet anyway.”

-----

“So, are you two going on foot or by horseback?” asked Serana.

“Dunno yet,” said Linneá. “Gwyn was being coy about it. Said she doesn’t like horses, but that she isn’t against mounted travel.”

“A summon of some kind?”

“Probably. I get the feeling that Gwyn knows a lot more about magick than she lets on.”

The two of them lay in bed, arms locked around each other. Masser and Secunda had long since risen overhead and the night was getting late, yet neither Linneá nor Serana wanted to sleep, for that only meant they would be apart sooner. But it was a losing battle they waged, eyelids drooping lower and lower, and their eyes staying shut for increasingly long intervals after daring to blink.

“I think you two will be fine, Elle. And look on the bright side – you’ll get to know her a lot more closely. We’ll get to know her.”

“That is enticing,” admitted Linneá. “Especially since it’s only a matter of time before they announce an engagement.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Just something Gwyn said earlier.”

“I’m looking forward to that,” said Serana. “Our wedding is the only one I’ve ever been to.”

A lull in the conversation followed her last musing and that was all it took for the pair of them to drift off into sleep. Tomorrow morning offered to be a trying time for Kyne’s children as they set out on diverging paths towards new destinations.

This post has been edited by Kane: Aug 18 2025, 07:30 PM

[Acadian]

It makes good sense that Linn should have some company for her adventure. Just as it makes sense that Serana really needs to stay home and mind the elf-child. Gwyn makes for a logical choice and I was pleased that she seems to accept the task.

I do find myself wondering what Cain’s role will be during this time. Since he is not going with Gwyn and Linn, is he planning on continuing his royal duty tour of the holds?

I’m looking forward to perhaps seeing some of Gwyn’s magic in action.

[Kane]

Acadian: Gwyn definitely only accepts because they are now linked. She'd have outright refused if they weren't.

I don't typically like to tease, but Cain's role and Gwyn in action are certainly on deck!

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

Chapter XIX – Many Meetings

“Are you sure I can’t teach you this spell? It’s not exactly hard to master if you put in the time to understand the mechanics.”

“I never had much talent with magecraft,” said Kirin. “Besides, what good are children if we can’t rely on them as we get older?”

Cain laughed heartily while his father stood up to join him in the center of the study. “If anything, I feel like you owe me some favors, dad. I was happily living life as a nobody until your men abducted me and brought me to the palace.” Cain caught his reflection in a mirror on the back of the door and paused to straighten the front of his shirt. “Is mum coming with us today?”

She’ll have to eventually, thought Gwyn. Dunno why she keeps putting it off.

Hey! Are you eavesdropping?

…Maybe.

He didn’t blame her at all. Trudging along the road to Dragon Bridge during the early onset of winter sounded like an awful idea for anyone but a Nord. Gwyn and Linneá had set out the day before with mixed emotions all around, but it seemed like their spirits rose as the hours went on. Cain caught snippets of playful sniping that Serana verified from her end, too. Something told him that that particular journey would end with them being closer than sisters.

“She is, actually,” said Kirin, snapping Cain out of his head. “Ought to be along any moment now.”

As if on cue, the door opened, and Lydia entered the room. Despite being the High Queen of Skyrim, she wore a very simple, yet utterly elegant periwinkle dress that flowed softly down to her ankles. A scarf embroidered with the Windborne Family crest draped over her shoulders, and atop her head rested the floral crown Linneá had crafted and gifted to her for Lydia’s fiftieth birthday. Her long black hair, now streaked with grey, remained unadorned but had been tied up in a braided knot that sat just above her neck.

“By the Nine, how did I get so lucky!” whistled Kirin.

“Hush, husband,” she winked. “I expect you to be on your best behavior today. Is your speech ready? Have you been practicing?”

“I’m as ready as I can be, Lyds. Not every day one gets to speak to the entire Elder Council after all.”

Cain was thankful to have not been invited for that portion of the trip. He planned on finding a nice, quiet corner of the Imperial Library to while away the hours until it became time to return home. It was a nice departure from the routine he had been sharing with Gwyn, but further Holds awaited his arrival, and Cain would be setting out from Solitude tomorrow morning with a new entourage, bound for the city of Morthal.

Jarl Idgrod the Younger had already sent a letter thanking Cain for his imminent arrival. That bit of mail thoroughly confounded him until Kirin explained the legacy of Seers in the Jarl’s family. Apparently, it was trivial to predict that he would be visiting their city.

But for now, his parents had an appointment at the White-Gold Tower, and it was time to depart.

“We’re ready when you are, son,” said Kirin.

Cain offered both of them a hand, concentrated on the talisman they’d given to the High Chancellor at their last meeting, and whisked them away to the Heartland.

Anilay Cato welcomed them into his office once again with open arms and bowed before Lydia with a flourish. “It’s lovely to finally meet you, High Queen Windborne.”

“Please, Mr. Cato, that isn’t necessary. My name is Lydia, and I insist that you use it. And it’s nice to meet you, as well.”

“Very well, Lydia. I see now where your husband gets his wisdom from. I think the Empire shall be lucky to have you both. But the Council awaits – shall we?”

“Good luck, you two,” said Cain. “I’ll be in the library if you need me.”

-----

The Imperial Library was far vaster than Cain anticipated. As he stood among the seemingly endless towering stacks lined with innumerable books, tomes, scrolls, volumes, and journals, he could not help but wonder how long his sisters would be gleefully trapped in such a place for, and he suspected they would insist on having unfettered access to it when their father assumed the Ruby Throne. For now, he settled on gloating inwardly that he was the first of them to witness such a spectacle of knowledge.

That’s unbecoming of you, came Gwyn’s playfully condescending thought. I’m telling your sister.

Go for it. She’s much too far from here to do anything about it.

Don’t remind me.

Sorry, hon. I love you and I miss you. We’ll see each other before long, I promise.

We’d better. You still owe me a child.

Cain smiled to himself and set off to find a nice, private nook from which to read in. Along the way, he grabbed a few books he’d never seen at random and eventually sat down with them in a red leather armchair on the eastern wall. It offered a small side table to set the books down on and had been nestled cozily into an alcove with soaring bay windows overlooking the palace gardens.

He read uninterrupted for nearly an hour until an unexpected figure took the seat across from him.

“Good to see you again, Cain,” said Anilay.

“Likewise. But shouldn’t you be in the council chamber with everyone else?”

Anilay shook his head. “No need. Your father has already told me I’d be kept on as his chancellor, so my presence would just be a formality. It’s the council he needs to present himself to, not me.”

“In that case, what can I do for you?”

“Let us go somewhere more private for a few moments. Please follow me up to my office.”

Leaving the books behind, Cain stood up and followed the High Chancellor away from the library and back into the cathedral-like main hall with its winding grand staircase. Born aloft on the magickal elevator, they reached the highest floor and made for the enigmatic office of the Tamriel’s emperor for the third time. Sitting behind the desk within seemed to be a requirement for Cain’s visits to city at this point and he silently remarked on what a far cry it was from his days as just another rank-and-file member in the Fighter’s Guild of Anvil.

Don’t let it go to your head.

I would never, retorted Cain. Then he focused on the man across from him instead.

Anilay cleared his throat. “Ahem. Now, then… I understand you and your siblings are looking into a matter with the Falmer? Mass disappearances, yes?”

“Aye,” said Cain. “With no leads, I might add.”

“Yes, that’s what your father’s men indicated. I might have something here of note…” He began rifling through the papers on his desk. “One moment, I had the damned thing just an hour ago…” Anilay dug around for half a minute more until he found the document he sought. “Ah, here it is. Some agents intercepted a carrier pigeon two days ago and made a copy of its contents. We can’t make head nor tails of it, but perhaps you can.”

Cain prodded Gwyn’s mind before trying to comprehend the note.


YM,
Proceeding apace. Anticipate adhering to pre-determined schedule. Please advise on timeline for coinciding event.
ML


“Hm. That doesn’t offer too much.”

That’s being generous, thought Gwyn in response. But, hey, it might be something. Although Linn thinks it’s a load of [censored]. You know how she is.

“I wish it were more,” said Anilay. “We aren’t even sure if it has anything to do with the matter, but our analysts haven’t matched it up with anything else we’re aware of either. It could be meaningless trite, but it would have been shared with Kirin at some point regardless.”

“I’m guessing it was caught flying southward?”

“Over Cloud Ruler Temple, in fact,” said Anilay. “It could only have come from Skyrim.”

“Interesting. Thank you for letting me know, Anilay.”

“Of course. We should think about heading back downstairs. The chamber doors ought to be opening again soon.”

-----

Three days later, Cain rode through the gates of Morthal on horseback with six guards flanking him. They boarded their mounts with the stablemaster and promptly headed to the Moorside in hopes of a warm fire and a hot meal. The men Cain had been saddled with were a friendly enough lot, if a bit too uptight about his safety. However, they were not aware of his ability to recall, as the High King still considered that to be a state secret, even if it meant guard duty required a healthy paranoia. The fewer people that could discern their movements, the better he reasoned.

His visit to the town bordering the marshlands of Hjaalmarch officially began the following morning. Cain had a breakfast audience with the Jarl first thing, which meant that tonight promised relaxation and a few pints of mead.

Even the men let down their guard a little bit and ordered a round or two to pass the time. There were not enough beds for them all in the small tavern, so only one would be staying with their charge while the others bunked in the town barracks. After a piping hot bowl of venison stew, Cain turned in for the night and tried reading a book to wind down from the journey.

Gwyn, however, had other plans, and decided the best way to spend their nights apart was to mercilessly tease him with an unbroken stream of desirous imagery and sexual innuendo that Dibella herself ought not be privy to.

You’ve gotta stop doing this to me, dear. I’ll be so pent up by the next time we see each other that I won’t know what to do with myself!

That’s the idea, Gwyn replied in thought. But don’t worry – I know exactly what I’ll do with you. When will you be home again?

Not for another three days at the least. Dad is insistent on hiding our handy-dandy traveling spell, so I’m to ride back to Solitude first and then depart from there.

Handy-dandy? Really? Am I dating a [censored] simpleton from the sticks?

Dating implies you have the option of leaving. You’re stuck with me, Gwyndala Louvain, and you damn well know it.

That’s what I like to hear, Gwyn purred into his mind. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like you to tell me – in great detail – what you plan on doing to me three nights from now.

-----

“It’s an honor to meet you, Jarl Idgrod,” bowed Cain.

“The honor is mine, young master Windborne.”

The High King’s heir and the Jarl of Morthal took their seats at the table arrayed for their meeting in the lofty great room of Highmoon Hall. Pitchers of water and urns of coffee and tea rested among platters of lighter fare than the hearty meals Cain usually preferred, but he graciously thanked his host before making up a plate of eggs, roasted vegetables, and sugared snowberries that had a curious way of warming one from within.

They mostly exchanged pleasantries and discussed the hold’s historic relationship with Solitude and the leaders of days gone, but Idgrod was also the first Jarl thus far to inquire about his past and how he came to be in Skyrim. There were no secrets from the people, so Cain told her the abridged version while omitting his absence last year. That was much too personal for him to share, yet he gathered that Idgrod had insights of her own on the matter, even if she didn’t push him on it.

It was a thoroughly pleasant morning all around, until the dynamic suddenly shifted mere moments before Cain was set to depart. Idgrod fell silent, eyelids fluttering while her mouth murmured inaudibly for several unending seconds. Then she turned the meeting over on its head when she took his hand and peered mournfully into his eyes.

“You must be cautious, my lord. Danger lurks in the black and it slowly reaches forth. The mystery of the Falmer unravels itself with or without your interference. For the sake of us all, you must get to the bottom of it, lest our land be consumed by the evil heart of darkness that encroaches from beyond the veil.”

Idgrod let go of Cain’s hand, and he sat back in stunned silence while she excused herself from the hall. A silence that was not shared by the other voice within his mind.

WHAT THE [censored] WAS THAT ABOUT?!

[Acadian]

It’s fun to see Cain and Gwyn getting used to reading each other’s’ thoughts.

The note that Anilay showed Cain (and Gwyn) was less than helpful to the disappearing falmer mystery, except for showing that the Empire’s significant intelligence collection abilities were at his disposal.

Quite a disturbing warning from the Jarl / Seer Idgrod of Morthal!

[Grits]

I could stand to spend some time in that Imperial library.

Gywn invents sexting, Elder Scrolls style!

Grim words from Jarl Idgrod. It’s a shame she didn’t go into a trance and say, “The daffodils will be lovely this year” or something!

[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.

[Acadian]

A joy to read the banter between Lin and Gwyn as they start their journey.

“My hero.”
- - No kidding! That warming spell is even better than a resist frost enchanted toe ring!

Turnabout is fair play as Gwyn shows she can summon a tent.

That mind meldy stuff and ability to recall is very handy for the separated couples.

The bandit ambush was a great opportunity to showcase Gwyn’s gory destructive ability – don’t piss off the little Breton! It also provided an opportunity for Kyne to make some amends with her welcome healing.