According to Plan
Author's Note:
This was inspired by Erica North's lovely novels "Chasing the Storm" and "The Dragon Queen." In it, her characters come up with one answer to a question about the Thalmor that I didn't particularly like, so I asked myself 'Well, what should they do?' and this is my answer.
Part One: The Set-Up
1
It was well past midnight when we hit the Inn at Old Hroldan. We hadn't used this location before, but I had to admit it was perfect: quiet, isolated, close to our enemies and the border. It had been raining for the twenty-four hours and we were soaked through. I caught a look at Thora's lips as she removed her helmet and saw they were turning blue. "I need some hot water and dry clothes for my wife," I told the innkeeper, a worn-out woman of middle age.
She looked dubiously at me, and then my wife. I could see she was about to say no when Thora asked, "Have you had any more trouble with that ghost, Eydis?" Her smile was bright, despite her shivering.
"Oh, it's you!" the innkeeper exclaimed and almost immediately blankets and a dry robe were brought forth. "You know, she helped me in a really tight spot a few years ago," the hostess told me by way of explanation.
I smiled back and nodded. "You wouldn't believe how often I hear that."
I know, you're thinking I'm showing off, playing the 'big man' to the 'poor helpless woman'. I promise you, nothing could be further than the truth. The fact is despite being Nordic by ancestry, my wife was born and raised in Cyrodiil and isn't used to the cold. When she gets wet, she sometimes gets chills that cause her to suffer terribly.
In doing these missions together we've become more than just husband and wife. We've become a team, depending on each other, trusting the other to watch our back, and knowing everything about both of us. So I know my wife is prone to chills and she knows I get Ataxia if a skeever even looks at me, and we're able to take care of the other.
Eydis recognized my wife from her help years back, but she had no idea who we actually were. No one ever recognized us. You probably don't believe me, but recognition is all a matter of setting. If we were in the Palace, then everyone would have known us, but here in the middle of nowhere? Not a chance.
I fixed a basin of hot water for her to soak her feet, and managed to get a sweet roll and some warm spiced wine from the innkeeper. Presenting these to my wife made her happier than she's been all day. I then set our armor and clothes to dry while she made small talk with the other woman and generally lied her head off.
Its funny. People think they know us. In their heads, the story is that my wife is honest, gentle, humble and only wants to serve her people, where as I'm arrogant, self-serving, lying and ambitious. They have no idea.
As I puttered around, a door to one of the guest rooms opened and a guest stumbled out. I recognized him of course, but gave no sign of it. He drunkenly asked our hostess for more mead and wandered back to his room.
My wife was talking about the war with Eydis. In this version, I was an officer stationed in a palace, and she was a courier in the field. Which was true in a way. She didn't volunteer which side we were fighting on, which was simply polite. And of course, she totally left out the fact that I was the leader of one side and that she was also my best field agent, intelligence operative, assassin, and General. No, she didn't talk about that part. She never does.
As Skyrim struggled to return to being one nation, many people had stopped talking about what side they had supported during the war, especially with strangers. They realized that good people had fought on both sides of the conflict, and that there was little point in stirring up troubles that had finally been put to rest.
Seeing that Thora's color was better, I helped her up and led her to our room. "This bed was supposedly slept in by Talos during the war," she told me. I looked at her askance. "I doubted it too, but the ghost I helped move along was from Great War. He was looking for someone named Hjalti, so it's possible."
Locking the door, I followed her under the covers and pulled her tight. She was still colder than she should be, so I ran my hands over her, trying to warm her chilled skin. She sighed tiredly as she rested her head on my shoulder. In the darkness I wondered, asking myself if she seemed more tired than normal.
It had been five years after the war ended. Three years since she defeated Alduin and saved the world. Three years since our wedding. During these years, we've been following our plan, making ourselves and our world ready for the next stage in our lives. Had we done enough? Was it time? Would this to be our last mission?
The uncertainty was building inside of me like a summer storm. I had gone through some of the most painful experiences possible, my body and my mind had been repeatedly broken, and the scars I carried would never fade, yet I had no fear for myself. But my wife, my love? Worry about her made my knees weak and my insides turn to water.
She sensed my mood, as she always did, and turned her lips to mine. Her hands slid over my skin, comforting and exciting me. She knew exactly where and how to touch me to turn nervous tension into a complete different kind of tension. I eagerly took her comfort and love, glorying in every part of her.
After we had thoroughly excited each other, she pushed me back and moved over me. Her Celestial Majesty, one of her many titles, had never seemed more appropriate. The moonlight illuminated her skin, glowing softly as we rocked together. With my hands and lips I encouraged her to please herself, before I surrendered to her heat.
I caught her in my arms as she collapsed, her breath mingling with mine as we gasped for air, her body no longer chilled, my mind no longer worried. We arranged ourselves in our usual positions and relaxed into sleep, our souls needing nothing more.