Prologue (4E 230)

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

“What news from Chorrol, Brother Cassian?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll manage.”

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

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

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

“A bit of advice, if I may?”

“Sir?”

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

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

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir.”

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

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

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

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

I’m delighted to see another volume of the Kyne’s Kidz saga!

Much has been happening. Wonderful job of painting the petulant Aldmeri Dominion queen in Alinor. If my reckoning is right, their plan seem to involve an assassination – perhaps Skyrim’s King Kirin? Although that would likely just result in Prince Cain taking the throne. We shall see.

And the old Blade Delphine will be visiting the Blue Palace it seems. Curious that Anilay’s apparent attempts to contact Skyrim’s high court have gone unanswered.

After reading this prologue, it is clear now that your title (Of Eagles and Dragons) likely refers to the Aldmeri Dominion and the Dragonborne members of Skyrim's royal family. Nice.

Thanks, Acadian! Life has been busy or we'd be further along by now, but there will be plenty of fun to come!

Chapter I �" Palatial Life


The city of Solitude bustled with activity in the morning hours. Shopkeepers propped open their doors to let the cool air in while vendor stalls in the market filled their baskets with the freshest produce harvested from farms resting just outside the towering stone walls of Skyrim’s capital. Children ran amok down the stretching cobblestone lanes, and the clanging of hammer on steel echoed through the stonework as the smithy tirelessly worked his forge.

Bards practiced under the warm sun bathing the courtyard of their historic college in a yellow glow, voices singing airily for all to hear while instrumentalists pounded on booming drums and plucked at twangy lutes. The Blue Palace, home of the High King and his family, stood proudly atop the great arch spanning over the inlet and port far below. The throne room and his court were empty, and would stay that way until mid-morning, when the various Thanes and advisors would begin to trickle in.

Deep within its expansive walls, Kirin Windborne shook his head bemusedly as he took a seat at the breakfast table with his loving wife and queen, Lydia. Across from him sat his daughters, Linneá and Serana, with their young elven child, Salihn.

“G’morning, da,” smiled Linneá, “why the silly look?”

Kirin poured himself a mug of coffee and helped himself to a plate of fruit, after which he answered his daughter’s question with a light chuckle. “Cain’s back, if you didn’t already know. Ran right past me earlier in some sort of tizzy, and I haven’t seen him since.”

Lydia handed her husband a napkin and pointed at the bit of melon clinging to his beard. He wiped it away and continued eating heartily while she filled him in on their son’s late-night arrival with the still mysterious to them Gwyndala Louvain. “The girls were just telling me he arrived with Gwyn sometime last night. Or early this morning, seeing as she is apparently still sleeping. But Cain was down here once already to talk about something that Linn refused to share with me thus far.”

Linneá made a big show of feigning indifference while she helped herself to more bacon, and topped off the glass of freshly-squeeze apple juice her daughter was drinking from. On Salihn’s opposite side, Serana rolled her eyes and nudged her wife’s thoughts playfully.

Must you always tease them, love? Cain hasn’t been home for good in over a year �" why pretend like you don’t know what’s going on?

I just want to give him some time. You and I both know he went back to that room in a different frame of mind. What if we barge in on them getting… you know…

Point taken.

“I’m sure they’ll be back down soon, mum,” said Linneá. “Gwyn won’t sleep forever and they’re probably both hungry. Cain only came by before to let us know they were back.”

Lydia stole a glance at her husband to see if he was buying that either. The quick wink in response was all she needed. “Nice try, Linn, but your father and I have both told you in the past that you’re a terrible liar.” She turned back to Kirin. “Finish your coffee so that we can go see our son. He and Gwyn need a proper welcoming.”

“Just let them sleep, mum,” said Linneá. “They’ve only managed to squeeze in a couple of hours before the storms woke Cain up. It’s going to be a long day for him already, no need to make it worse.”

Breakfast continued on amicably for the next ten minutes until Lydia quietly excused herself from the table with a steaming mug of tea in hand. The long stone corridors were beginning to come alive as the morning hours churned onwards. Palatial staff bustled about in the throes of their daily chores to keep the halls and rooms her family’s home clean and cared for while a light patrol of guards made their rounds.

Coming to a stop, Lydia took a cautious sip from her piping hot tea and raised her fist to knock on the door to Cain’s bedroom. Her balled fist hovered inches away from the wooden door when she heard a faint snoring sound escaping the room. Lydia instead lowered her hand to the wrought iron door knob and gave it a gentle turn while nudging open the door with her shoulder. Peering through the gap, she nearly gasped aloud at the sight of Cain and Gwyn sharing his bed, rolled tightly up against each other and fast asleep.

The door closed with a light click of the latch, and Lydia darted back down to the small dining room where she had left the others. The girls had left with Salihn, so she took the seat right next to her husband again.

“Back already, Lyds? I thought you had gone to sit in the greenhouse with your tea.”

“Nope. I wanted to see Cain, despite Linn’s warning,” she said. “Although it turned okay, I think I’ll heed her advice the next time she’s being cagey.”

“Oh? I take it he was still asleep then?”

“He was. And Ms. Gwyndala is sharing the bed with him.”

Kirin snorted into his coffee out of sheer surprise and began to cough heavily while Lydia thumped him on the back a few times. It took several attempts at blowing his nose into a kerchief before the hot drink cleared his sinuses and he was able to respond. “Well, that certainly is interesting!” he mused. “It was obvious they were good friends but I wonder how it led to this?”

“I’m curious, too,” said Lydia. “But I guess we should just be grateful Cain is happy again. He certainly has come a long way since our impromptu visit to Gwyn’s home.”

She took a minute to dab at her eyes with a different kerchief than the one her husband had balled up and thrown on the table. Seeing Anska again that morning had been difficult for everyone, especially Lydia. The guilt over Anska’s death was something that she had grappled with for a long time in the aftermath of that awful day, even though Cain had not blamed her one bit. Had she been armed, Lydia couldn’t help but wonder of things would have turned out differently.

“Aye, that he has,” agreed Kirin. “I’m sure they’ll come see us when they wake up, and you can ask them all about it. I need to get to the throne room, dear. Will you be attending court this morning?”

“Nah, not right now,” said Lydia. “I might join you later, but I think I’ll go talk to the girls for a bit. They definitely know more about what’s going on than we do.”





A small group of petitioners waited patiently in the Blue Palace vestibule for an audience with the High King. Some were commoners, others were more well-off shopkeepers or tavern minders, and some were wealthy landowners. They spoke quietly amongst themselves while waiting for the steward, a stout Nord man named Grist, to beckon them upstairs at the appropriate time. Another elderly Nord woman waited anxiously at the foot of the stairs, practically bobbing on her heels, and was the first up the stairs when the group was called upon.

Kirin Windborne did his best to remove the pained expression on his face when Bryling hurried up the stairs to make sure she was first in line. Brelyna Maryon, the court wizard loaned to the palace for the next ten days, sighed at the former Thane’s appearance and wished she had been sent the week after instead. Thankfully, the king took it upon himself to address the woman first.

“What can we do for you, Bryling?” asked Kirin.

“Thank you for seeing me, my lord,” said Bryling. “I’ve come to request more guards at Rockwallow, until such a time that Stonehills is rebuilt. The progress being made in the village is excellent but I still worry for the safety of my miners. Rumors of nearby bandit clans continue to circulate and I’m �"“

“If I may,” Brelyna interjected. Kirin held up a hand to quiet Bryling and nodded at his wizard. “Thank you, sire.” The tall dark elf turned her attention back to the old woman, red eyes gleaming in the anticipation of shutting this nuisance down. “Bryling, this is the third time you’ve made this request in the last two months and my scrying has yet to turn up anything of note.” Bryling scowled and opened her mouth to retort but the wizard cut her off. “I’m not finished. As I said, nothing has been revealed, and we even dispatched an exploratory commission two weeks ago that included the king’s own daughters. No traces of bandits were found. None at all.”

“Brelyna’s right,” said Kirin. “Stonehills has plenty of guards as it is, and there is no threat from anything other than local wildlife, Bryling. Return home and if you come to me with this request again you’ll be summarily dismissed from the palace grounds.”

The old woman’s face was a mask of cold fury, but she spun on her heel and left in a huff while the next petitioner stepped up. Brelyna watched her leave with a satisfied smirk on her face and then turned her attention back to the remaining rabble waiting before the throne.

It promised to be a long morning.





“How long has this been going on?” asked Lydia.

The rain had blown through in a hurry leaving behind clear skies and deep puddles all across the flagged stone walkways of Solitude, including the Blue Palace gardens. Lydia sat around a small table in those very gardens with her daughters and had begun grilling them about Cain and Gwyn. Linneá and Serana had been hoping for a peaceful morning to practice a few new spells they were mastering, but it looked like gossip would be the order of the day instead.

“This one’s all yours, love.”

“Gee, thanks, Elle,” replied Serana. “To answer your question, mum, it’s been ‘going on’ since about two hours ago.”

“That’s it? Just since this morning?”

“Pretty much, yeah. Gwyn has been down bad for Cain for several months now, but he only put two and two together this morning. Linn tried to warn you off earlier in case they were, um, exploring new things about each other, but it sounds more like they just took the opportunity to relax peacefully.”

“Several months?” said Lydia. “And how long have you two known that about her?”

“Ana picked up on it the night before everything came to a head. I’m sure that Gwyn’s feelings only deepened after Cain was finally able to move on and heal. In the span of a few hours, she went from not having a chance in hell, to her dreams coming true. And based on her usual bluntness, I’m surprised she didn’t try to jump his bones sooner, if I’m being honest. But I guess Gwyn must’ve wanted Cain to get there on his own.”

Lydia stewed on these revelations for a few minutes and came to the same conclusion her daughters had reached early that same morning. She found herself smiling inwardly at the prospect of Cain being back to his old self, and part of her relished what she knew would be a challenge: getting to know the diminutive Breton he’d returned with and who had helped him through so much.

“If he’s happy, then that’s all that matters,” Lydia concluded. “However, I think it’s time to go rouse them from their slumber. Care to join me?”

“Uh, not sure that’s a good idea,” said Serana. “Gwyn’s not afraid to tell anyone one off for doing something she doesn’t like. Including the High Queen of Skyrim.”

“Exactly,” grinned Lydia. “Figuring her out is a going to be a lot of fun, don’t you think?”

“Count me out, mum,” said Linneá. “I’d be lying if I said Gwyn doesn’t scare me a tiny bit. I don’t think she’s afraid of anyone, and she definitely doesn’t take [censored] from them either.”

It was with a dramatic sigh that Lydia left them to it and headed back inside the palace walls. The living quarters weren’t far away from the gardens, and so she soon stood outside of Cain’s bedroom door once again. This time, it was slightly ajar already and when she pushed it further open there was nothing to greet her but an empty room.

Figuring they were after something to eat, Lydia headed for the dining room where they had all eaten breakfast earlier in the day and this time she was rewarded by hearing a playful banter before she even set foot through the doorway. Cain and Gwyndala had managed to procure a small mountain of leftover breakfast food from the kitchen staff and had piled it on the table in front of them.

“Ah, there you two are! Linn tells me you got in late last night? I’m glad you’re finally home, Cain, and Gwyn you of course are also welcomed with open arms!”

Her wayward son, home at last after thirteen long months abroad rose from his chair and hugged Lydia tightly to himself. “Thanks, mum. It feels good to be back. Can you sit with us?”

“Of course, I can!” smiled Lydia. “Wouldn’t have been seeking you out otherwise.” She sat down across from the two of them and poured herself a glass of water while Gwyn watched her with something approaching a look of impatience. “So, then,” continued Lydia, “How have you two been? Oh, and I wanted to ask you about -”

“About checking in on us a little bit ago?” finished Gwyn. “Yes, I saw you. I was content, not sleeping. And yes, we’re together.” After a pause, she added: “Finally. That good enough for you?”

Lydia frowned at her terse response. She hadn’t forgotten their brief time together outside of Gwyn’s cabin when the woman had referred to herself as a bitch, but she was beginning to wonder how much of that was a front and how long it would take for someone other than Cain to crack that shell. And whether or not she wanted to start right now.

“I see,” said Lydia, deciding it would indeed be now. “Look, Ms. Louvain, I’m a very tolerant woman but I’ll ask that you show me some amount of respect while we’re within these walls. I’m Cain’s mother, first foremost, but I am also the High Queen, even if I don’t enjoy bandying that about. I won’t presume to know what in your life has made you so harsh when dealing with others but if you cannot find a way to be something approaching pleasant to myself, and to Cain’s father and sisters, then you’ll find that your stay here will be very short.” Having said her piece, Lydia smiled sweetly at Cain. “It’s nice to have you back, dear. I’m going to see if your father needs help with court this morning. Come see us later if you can.”

She strode gracefully from the dining room without so much as a fleeting glance backwards and headed up to the throne room to join her husband’s side.





The line of petitioners had dwindled but not cleared out entirely when Lydia climbed the vestibule stairs, crossed the hall, and took her seat next to Kirin.

“There you are, dear,” he said. The he lowered his voice and smiled gratefully at her. “You’re timing is perfect �" can you handle the next one? I need a break to grab a drink. We started off on poor footing with another visit from Bryling.”

“Bryling again? Small wonder you didn’t send the rest of them packing after that.”

“Brelyna handled her or I might have. Back in a minute.”

Kirin excused himself while Lydia beckoned forth a timid looking Imperial man carrying what looked to be a burlap sack full of rotting tubers. The queen groaned quietly and plastered what she hoped was a welcoming smile across her features as the man began to ramble about varmints and poor fertilizer quality. Further relief from what she knew would yet be a long morning came with the timely arrival of Linneá and Serana, who were just cresting the stairs when they caught sight of the odorous bag. Lydia had to restrain herself from laughing while her precocious daughter took the sack from the farmer, summoned a chest at her feet, and shoved it inside to save everyone present from the rank smell.

If the man was offended, he didn’t show it. Instead he turned his attention to Kirin, who had just return to his seat on the throne. He argued with the king for a few moments more before enough placating words were spoken. The farmer then began to demand his potatoes back from Linneá, but she refused to let the smell back into the palace air and was about to take the man to task when a single step forward from Grist was enough to dispel any remaining notion of combativeness.

Kirin sighed heavily and longed for an excuse to end court early, but a valid one had yet to present itself. At least until a few minutes later when he noticed Cain and Gwyn trying to slide past the remaining queued citizens and take a seat next to the girls. “Cain!” he shouted. “And Gwyn, welcome!” His face lit up with excitement at seeing them and Kirin wasted no time in ending the court session early. “I’m afraid that’s all I can manage for today, folks! If you didn’t get an audience this morning, leave your name with Brelyna and you’ll be first in line tomorrow!”

“Husband, there were only a handful left,” said Lydia. “You couldn’t have spoken to them today?”

“No,” he said, decisively. “We’re all here for a change, and it’s time to celebrate that with a hearty lunch. C’mon, we’ll have head to my study and make an impromptu trip back home to Elysium. I’m sure Kyne would love to join us, and we did promise to visit her more.”

What a beautifully evocative opening you gave us as you set the scene so nicely. A true treat for the senses as you described early morning in Solitude, gradually working your way into the palace.

I’m glad you highlighted Lydia’s guilt over the death of Anska – that makes total sense though I had not thought of it before.

What a fun ‘holding court’ session as unhappy citizens come before the High King to solve their perceived problems and sleights.

Gwyn vs Lydia! I’m glad Lydia did not back down after Gwyn quite wore through the High Queen’s patience. Gwyn will be a tough nut to crack and a lot of trouble, but something tells me she’s worth it.

I wanted to touch on Lydia's guilt sooner but Season Unending was already quite lengthy and was Cain's tale at the end of the day. This one'll be a little different.

Court seemed like a fun thing to tackle and will likely be a recurring theme. Not everything is doom and gloom all the time, so I think it's a good way to inject some levity.

I think Gwyn knows she deserved that. She's not on home turf anymore and is going to have to let her guard down around people other than Cain.

Chapter II �" Practice and Relaxation

A small spear of keen ice struck Linneá’s side and shattered into nothingness. Grimacing slightly from the pain, she casted another quick healing spell before closing her eyes to concentrate on the magickal theory she’d been practicing lately with Serana. The bright morning sun beamed down on the palace gardens they stood in, its vibrant light warming the air while a gentle breeze rustled through the overgrown ivies, endless array of flowering alchemical plants, and fruit bearing shrubs that filled the stone soil boxes and clay planters surrounding the two mages.

“Okay, hit me again!” said Linneá, breaking the idyllic reverie. The next icy spear struck her upper leg this time and brought Linneá down to one knee. “[censored]!” she gasped, “that one really hurt!”

Serana rushed over to her wife’s side and flashed her own healing spell with one hand, while her other gripped Linneá’s shoulder to steady her. “Let’s take a break for a bit, love. You don’t have to master it the first time out.”

“I’ll be fine, just gimme a sec.” She breathed deeply several times and then scowled at Serana. “Did you make that last one stronger?”
“Maybe,” giggled Serana. “I thought you’d concentrate harder if I made it hurt more. Did it work?”

“If it means I won’t have to feel that again… yes. But you should know by now that there are better ways to entice me, dear.” She reached up and twirled a small strand of lace on her wife’s top that was slightly undone. “Just untie this all the way and I’ll have all the motivation I need!”

“Divine’s sake, Elle, I’m not going to parade around the gardens with my tits out for all to see.” Serana helped Linneá back up to her feet and shot her a devious smile. “Tell you what… if you reflect the next one I’ll conjure up that… object… you’re so fond of when we go to bed tonight.”

“The red and black one? Deal. Now get back over there and hit me again. Use a damn blizzard spell if you have to, cause I’m definitely going to make sure we have a good time tonight!”

Linneá closed her eyes while Serana moved away, and readied herself for the incoming blast of ice. A shimmering aura of pale blue light encased her slender form in anticipation of the hostile spell Serana was about to fling her way once again. The promised reward at the forefront of her thoughts, she focused a fair bit of her ample magicka reserves to cast Shalidor’s Mirror.

Another flash of icy blue sliced through the air, rushing towards Linneá, and this time it immediately reflected back towards Serana, who barely had her ward spell up in time. The shard of magickal ice shattered against the protective barrier and the moment Serana lowered it she dashed back to Linneá and jumped into her arms.

“Elle, that was perfect!” Serana pressed her lips firmly to Linneá’s, who slowly drove her a few paces forward and up against the palace wall. “Ooh, careful!” squealed Serana. Further words were not spoken until they heard the door open and footsteps clicking on the paved stone floor.

Lydia saw them separate, shook her head ruefully, and then beckoned them to sit around a small table with her. Linneá and Serana joined her, and their mother wasted no time in asking about Cain and Gwyn: “How long has this been going on?”

-----

Cain and Gwyndala were awake and eating a late breakfast when Linneá and Serana walked into the dining room a short time later and sat down opposite them. Their brother seemed to think something very amusing was going on while his tiny Breton girlfriend chewed on her bottom lip and stared aimlessly through his sisters as if they’d never appeared.

“Good morning, you two,” said Serana. “Uh, Gwyn, are you alright? And what’s so damn funny, brother?”

“You just missed mum,” explained Cain. “She took Gwyn to task and then left to join dad like it was just another ordinary conversation. I’ve never seen her fired up like that.”

“Oh no,” sighed Linneá. “Gwyn, dear, you really don’t wanna be on her bad side. Mum isn’t just some bumpkin our dad met on a farm, she was a housecarl for the Jarl of Whiterun and was assigned to protect dad when the Dragon Crisis began. They fought dragons’ side by side to save us all, and she dueled Alduin himself with dad on the Throat of the World. There is far more to our mother than just being the High King’s devoted wife.”

Gwyn had still been staring at the wall behind them, but she did hear Linneá’s warning and when she focused back on the present, it was with a mischievous grin that caught the others off guard. “I had it coming,” she admitted. “I’m sure you noticed I can’t help myself sometimes, and that I come off like a bratty [censored]. And she didn’t even pretend to hold back, went right to calling me out on it. I think I’m going to like Lydia, but you all need to give me some space for a while, okay? I lived alone in that cabin for fifteen years until your brother here came along and wormed his way into my life. I’m not used to being around this many [censored] people all the time.”

“Fair enough,” said Linneá. “Do you want us to leave? Let you and Cain eat lunch in peace?”

“No, I… I’m fine with you two.”

Serana’s eyes flashed with surprise, and she helped herself to a sweet roll while stealing a glance at Linneá. I think she likes us, Elle, she thought at Linneá. Maybe we can help her acclimate?

I’d wager she thinks more highly of you than me. She probably hasn’t forgotten that you took the time to check on her more than once. But we can definitely see if she’s interested.

Their brief mental exchange didn’t escape Gwyn’s notice, and she flung a grape at Linneá to get their attention. It bounced off her forehead and splashed neatly in the jug of water sitting in the middle of the table, which had the intended result. They were both looking at her again and trying not to laugh at Gwyn’s outlandishness.

“It’s rude to talk about others in front of them, even if it is telepathically,” said Gwyn. “If you have something to say, then do so out loud.”

Cain had mostly been silent during this exchange but when he opened his mouth to chime in, Gwyn kicked his leg and he nearly yelped in pain from the pointed shoe digging into his calf. The look she shot at him screamed ‘I’ll handle this’, so he shrugged and went back to dipping a crusty loaf of bread in a small bowl of seasoned oil.

“You’re right, that was rude,” agreed Serana. “We’ll try not to do that. Anyway, Elle and I thought we could take you under our wings, help you get settled in here. Show you where the quiet places are, who to avoid… that sort of thing. Interested?”

“Under your wings? You do realize I’m older than you two, right?”

“Technically, very few people in all of Tamriel are older than my Ana here, but, yes, we do realize that. Besides, it’s just an expression, Gwynnie. What do you say?”

Gwyn stared at them for a moment, her expression unreadable. Linneá suddenly wasn’t sure if now was the right time to be offering this �" Gwyn had only been here for a few hours and no doubt felt way out of her comfort zone. But they were going to have to get to know each other eventually, and Linneá and Serana both felt there was more to this woman than a callous exterior. And the fact that she already opened up to Cain and let him in further proved that to them.

“… I think that sounds nice. Final warning, though… if you call me that again, they’ll never find your body. Oh, and I do have one question for you, Serana.”

“Hm?”

“Where do you keep the brandy?”

-----

Late morning quickly gave in to midday while life moved on in the Blue Palace. Downstairs, near where the very foundation of their home was set deep into the bedrock of Solitude’s great arch, one of the larger unused dungeons had been converted into a private library with its own small alchemy lab off to the side in an antechamber. Soaring bookstacks stood against every wall in the circular chamber, and a large table at the center housed several magickal light sources, surrounded by comfortable armchairs, and plush chaises. Tables covered in scrolls, inkpots, quills, and notebooks were tucked into random corners, and a large shelf filled with several bottles of liquor and glass goblets adorned the southern wall.

The collective books, tomes, spell books, and manuals had been assembled over the last five to six years by Linneá and Serana, who were now nestled down on one of the chaises, hoping to eke out a bit of piece and quiet before heading upstirs to attend their father’s court. Serana held a thin novel in one hand while the fingers of her other hand laced through her wife’s hair.

But she was having trouble concentrating and soon glanced down at Linneá with a frown. Vacant hazel eyes stared past Serana’s own to the ceiling above. “Can you not think so loudly, love? It bleeds over sometimes. Why are you still peeling that theory apart anyway? After that show early, I’d say you’ve mastered Shalidor’s Mirror.”

“Oops, sorry. I didn’t realize you could hear me.” Linneá sat up with her knees tucked in towards her chest and rested her chin between her knees. “You know how I am �" always trying to improve upon things. I started to wonder if, given the proper focus, spells could be redirected outwards in a wide-ranging effect, instead of the back at the caster. It would be a handy trick if you find yourself surrounded."

Serana shook her head in admiration. “Only you would take a spell from Shalidor himself and wonder if it could be better, Elle. You’ll never cease to amaze me, you know that? I’ve had thousands of years to practice magick and sometimes I still feel like a novice when I watch you peel apart spell foundations or master theories that would turn the heads of Telvanni mages.”

Linneá blushed and looked away. “You stop that, you’re gonna make me tear up and I don’t want to ruin my makeup before we go help da. Besides, you’ve forgotten more about alchemy than I’ll ever know, so let’s just say we’re even.”

“Got me there,” laughed Serana.

Serana picked up her book and started reading it again while Linneá laid her had back down in her lap. Despite her best efforts, bits and pieces of Linneá’s thoughts continued to filter through at odd times until Serana sighed and set the book down in surrender. She settled for closing her eyes and leaning back to relax until they needed to leave, content to enjoy the quiet morning in their library.

Half an hour later, Linneá stood up to stretch, and then grabbed Serana’s hand. “Come on, we might as well go now. I hit a wall and it looks like you’re about to fall asleep.”

“Just resting,” said Serana. “I kept hearing the odd stray thought of yours.” Her stomach grumbled on the way out of their library, so she steered her wife towards the nearest kitchen. “I need a snack first, come this way.”




The smell as they entered the vestibule and ascended the stairs to the throne room assaulted their senses and nearly made Linneá and Serana gag. Wondering what on Nirn could cause such an odorous stank, they took the stairs two at a time in search of the offending items and spotted the farmer with his bag of rotting potatoes, still bandying them about in from of Kirin. Linneá immediately dashed to the man’s side, yanked the burlap sack out his hands, and dropped it into a summoned chest.

“You’re not getting those back,” she spat, interrupting the farmer’s retort and waving her hand in front of her face to dispel the foul smell. “Why the hell did you think it was a good idea to bring those before your king? Finish your piece and don’t pull a stunt like that again, or you’ll join those potatoes in Oblivion.”

After a subtle warning from Kirin’s housecarl, the man took the hint and went back to yammering about his perceived slights.

“That wasn’t very tactful, Elle,” whispered Serana. “These people do look up to us, ya know…”

“[censored] him,” she shot back. “Besides, mum got a kick out of that. Did you see the [censored]-eating grin on her face when I told him off? She loved it.”

Leaving the man slightly off-kilter, Linneá and Serana made for a nearby bench and took a seat until they would be needed again. Things proceeded uneventfully for a few minutes more until Cain and Gwyndala tried to sneak in past the commoners and join his sisters in wait. But their father noticed them right off, called a closing to the morning court and waved the four of them over to where he and Lydia tended to the Throne of Skyrim.

“What’s up, da?” asked Linneá. “Why’d you send them all away? Still had at least another hour of madness waiting in line.”

“Ah, don’t worry about them,” said Kirin. “I’m famished and we’re all here together for a change. Come on, we’re heading up to my study and then to Elysium for lunch with Kyne. I already discussed it with your mother, and we can use the break!”

Linneá shrugged and started to follow her parents further into the palace while mentally tipping off their goddess that they would be visiting. Serana was about to follow suit, but she noticed that Cain and Gwyn were hanging back and seemed to be debating something. Gwyn in particular looked a little agitated.

“Everything okay?” she asked them, doubling back.

Properly motivated (by lust of course), Linneá is able to cast quite the reflecting spell to counter Serana’s ice bolt.

I was pleased to see that Gwyn realized she deserved the reprimand she got from Lydia in the last episode.

Older than Serana – I suspect not!

I winced when Linneá called our little Breton Gwynnie again. . . and Gwyn did not disappoint.

What a cool mages girl cave Linneá and Serana have beneath the palace!

Sounds like a Divine lunch is up next.