On a stormy night in the Hold of the Pale, on the 24th Second Seed 4E 203, an Elven woman slid into her house, soaked to the bone and shivering.
She hung her wet cloak unto a hook in her hallway entrance and took in a deep breath.
Heljarchen Hall... This house was her paradise. Completely cut off from the rest of Skyrim, constantly surrounded by swirling winds and located on top of some of the most dangerous tundras in the Pale..
This place was perfect.
No one to disturb her. No one to demand that she risk her life for the sake of the world.
No one to discover her secret.
She tiredly pushed open the double doors that led to her dining room.
"My thane!" She startled at the sudden voice, but smiled when she saw her housecarl, Gregor coming towards her.
"Hello, to you too Gregor..."
"Never mind hellos!" He hissed, which took her aback, "Oriella has been going out of her mind with worry! Markus has been trying to, in his words 'drown her sorrows with mead', but by the Gods! That woman can squawk!"
Persephone couldn't help but laugh at her disgruntled Housecarl, "She's a bard, Gregor, she's literally paid to open her mouth."
Gregor folded his arms, "Well, please, with all the respect of Sovengarde, please go calm her down before I throw her over my shoulder and give her to the Giant at Blizzards Rest as an offering."
She patted him on the shoulder," I'll go and calm her down."
She made her way over to the back room behind her fireplace; towards the staff resting area. When she passed the doorway, she saw her bard sitting at the table being patted on the back by her Hired carriage driver."
"Now, now, 'Ella, lass, she'll be ok, she's the pissin' dragonborn!"
The brown haired woman sniffled, "But... but.. she's in a delicate condition, dragonborn or no! One swing from a bandits sword and she.. she.."
"She what?" Persephone asked, leaning against the doorframe. Both servants gasped in shock and spun round to her voice. Oriella let out a sob and was out of the chair faster than a lightning bolt, tumbling the poor carriage driver to the ground.
"My thane!" She cried and pulled her into a tight embrace, "I was s-so worried!"
"I-its' fine Ella." Persephone assured her, patting her back at an awkward angle, "I was only taking care of a few bandits who had managed to make off with a bit of our food a few days ago.. unfortunately they ate it all.. but as punishment.. I don't think any one of them will be able to.. uh.. reproduce, so to speak."
Oriella looked slightly startled, but Markus, who had just about made it back up to his feet, burst into a fit of laughter, "Right on ya, lass! Teach those cheeky bastards to be stealing any of MY homemade apple pie.. it was me ma's recipe you know..."
"Oh shut up Markus!" Oriella shrilled, turning to glare at the suddenly sheepish Nord, "Miss Persephone is, unless you've forgotten...which I wouldn't be surprised with all the mead you consume.. in no fit state to be going out exploring, let alone fighting!"
Persephone managed to break out of the bards firm grasp, "Honestly Oriella, I'm not a teenager, I can manage a little fight."
"But.."
"No buts!" She said in a firm voice. Both servants glopped.
"Now, now, I asked you to calm her down, not scare her." Gregors rough voice came from behind her.
Persephone turned to face him and shrugged, "I can only deal with what I'm dealt."
"I'm the one that's been dealt a bad hand.." Gregor muttered under his breath.
Persephone pouted, "Well, go find another Dragonborn to serve."
Gregor shakes his head with a teasing smile, "And leave you, the alcoholic apple pie addict and the reincarnation of my demon ex-mother in law alone? Oh no.. not even I want a second Oblivion Crisis."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Markus demanded, before taking a long swing of cider, "I'm not addicted to apples!"
Gregor snorted, "Of course not.."
"I swear, I am only ever put down in this house!" Trilled Oriella, tears filling her brown eyes yet again, "I only try to keep things organised! I'm paid to play music, but I do a lot more, only because I care.."
"Oh hush woman." Markus says with a slight slur, "You complain like a milk drinker.."
"It takes a milk drinker to know one." She retorts. A flash of anger erupts in the carriage drivers eyes.
"Why you..!"
"Ok, ok, It's late, you've both had a lot of alcohol, I think you need to sleep!" Gregor says, before pulling Markus and Oriella to the door of the staff bedrooms.
They both argued and grumbled, but Gregor simply slammed the door in their faces.
"Thanks for that." Persephone whispers, and he nods.
"Any time, my thane."
She smiles warmly at him. Gregor was easily her favourite out of all her servants, even though she loved all three of them dearly; it was he who was probably her closest friend and confident.
"I think I should go to bed." She said after she watched him grab a mead from the storage room.
"Oh, would you like me to bring you a drink?" He asked and she nodded.
"Please?"
"Warm milk again?"
"Uh-huh."
He smiled again and made his way back to storage room to collect the milk while she made her way upstairs to her master chamber. She changed into a light night gown and was just sliding under the covers when Gregor turned the corner and knocked on the doorframe.
"May I come in?"
"Of course."
He set the milk into her hands and she eagerly brought it to her lips. She sighed after taking a long sip. She didn't notice he was laughing quietly until she heard him choking for breath.
"What's so funny?" She said suspiciously.
"Nothing, nothing." He chuckled, obviously trying to catch a grip of himself.
She set the milk back on the counter, "No, something is obviously amusing to you, what is it?"
".. Nothing really.. just that, I'd never take you for a milk drinker."
It took a few seconds to realise his joke. The look of realisation was clearly priceless, judging from Gregor's booming laughter.
"Oh shut up, you big Nord oaf." She growled and slid down into her bed further.
His chuckles started to die away slightly, "How are you feeling?"
A teasing smile came to her lips, "And you call me the milk drinker? A Nord warrior doesn't ask about feelings.."
"Answer the question." He sighs and she couldn't help but giggle.
"Ok, ok.. I'm actually feeling fine."
"Really?"
"Yes, mother."
"Hmmpf."
"Hey, now! Don't get all hormonal on me."
He folds his arms, "..It's getting pretty close now, I was only wondering."
She sits up a little and sighs, "I know.. thank you for that.." She looks away from him and bites her lip nervously. This doesn't go unnoticed.
"What's wrong?"
She plays with her sheet when she replies, "I went to Dawnstar today."
"And?"
She takes a deep breath, "And Galmar was there.."
She hears him take in a sharp breath, "Was.. he?"
She shakes her head, "No.. thank the Gods.. but.." She closes her eyes and her hands ball into fists around the sheets
"But..?"
"Oh Gregor!" She whimpers her eyes meeting his, "They were looking for me!"
He freezes, literally grinding to a halt. Only his eyes showed signs of life, a furious storm of emotions from within.
"They couldn't... they can't.. know.. can they..?" He said lowly, looking down to her secret.
Her hands came up and touched her swollen abdomen, "I don't know... and even if they did.. they'd have no idea that.. that the baby was his."
Persephone had nervously confessed to all three servants about 4 months previously who the father to her child was. She had been met with shock, much to her fears, but they'd all sworn soon after that they would never tell her secret. In fact, they'd all but sworn to seclude themselves to the house if that is what it took to keep both their beloved thane and her baby safe.
"Will Skald tell them about the hall?" Gregor whispered, and Persephone clutched her head in her hands.
"I don't know!" She cried, "If they find me, and Ulfric sees me, he'll know.. I could spurt the biggest amount of Skeever shit I could think off.. but he'll know that this is his child.. He can read me better than even I can."
"Hey, hey, it's ok.." Gregor soothed her as he sat down on the bed and pulled her into his arms. She clung onto his blue tunic.
"I..I'm scared Gregor.. I don't know what to do!"
"Don't worry, we won't give you or the little tyke up without a fight." He swore, "Talos knows, I just have to introduce them damned Stormcloaks to Oriella, she'll send them packing, tails between legs and all."
She giggled at the image. Gregor pulled back to look at her, "Better?"
"A lot.. thank you."
He smiled, "Not a problem my thane.. try to sleep, no point worrying about it now."
She nodded in agreement. He left the room after she settled herself down with a faint but fond, 'Good night'.
Persephone fell asleep almost immediately, completely exhausted from the stress of almost being caught by her ex-lovers right hand man, and the general discomfort that came from being very heavily pregnant.
It wasn't a few hours later, that she awoke from a night terror, panting and sweating. She'd dreamt that the Stormcloaks had come to take her unborn child away, claiming it to be the only chance of Ulfric having an heir, but since it hadn't been born, they'd cut it straight from her stomach and left her to bleed to death. She sighed in relief when she realised she was still in her bed, entirely unharmed.
However, not a minute later, her abdomen clenched and she gripped it in shock. She threw the covers off her body and stilled when she saw a patch of water coming from her private area and slowly spreading on her mattress.
"No.. no..no, no, no.." She moaned, "It's too early... too.." She groaned when another round of pain rippled across her skin. She hoisted herself painfully to her feet and fled, or really hobbled, to the staircase.
She took no guilt in all at screaming as loud as she could;
"GREGOR, ORIELLA, MARKUS! HELP ME!"
There was a loud crash and the sound of a door being flung open; Gregor emerged first, eyes wide and his ebony sword clutched in his hand. Oriella flew out behind him, her hair still in her night cap, waving a pan above her head.
They both stopped short of the staircase when they saw her gripping onto the railing, panting lightly.
"What's happening? Is it the Stormcloaks?" Gregor demanded, his eyes darting behind her.
"Stormcloaks?!" Oriella croked, her tired eyes widening, "Why would they break in?... No... they couldn't have... they can't know.."
"No!" Persephone gasped, "They aren't here... but I.. I think.."
She whined when the pain returned and proceeded to make her feel like she was being ripped apart inside.
"W-wha's happenin'?" Markus grumbled, finally coming to join the other two servants. He rubbed his face and yawned before looking up at his master.
His expression became confused when he saw her pained expression, "What's wrong with you, lass? Gas?"
"By the Gods.." Persephone heard Oriella gasp, " Her water's broken!"
"Huh?" Both men said stupidly and Oriella resisted the urge to smack them both.
"She's giving birth!"
Both Men froze before launching into a tirade of questions.
"WHAT? NOW?!"
"I thought the munchkin wasn't supposed to be born until next month?!"
"What do we do now?! Like get her to push or something?!"
"Should I get some mead..?"
"SHUT UP!" Both men jolted and looked up the stairs. Persephone was clinging onto the banister for dear life and a light sweat had broken out on her forehead. She gritted her teeth.
"Thanks for your the attention," She says in a sweet voice, " I will let you get right back to acting like a bunch of headless chickens AFTER IV'E HAD A BLOODY BABY."
Another pain shot across her stomach and she cried out in agony. Oriella quickly snapped to attention.
"Gregor, quickly, boil some water, we may need it to sterilise the scissors.."
"SCISSORS?!" Persephone screeched from atop the stairs. Oriella ignored her, and rounded on Markus.
"Markus, rip up some spare bed sheets.. this could get messy."
Both men sped off to their appointed tasks and Oriella sprinted up the stairs to her thane's side.
"Come on, we have to get you into something dry.."
Persephone nodded, suddenly feeling extremely miserable. She let the bard lead her back into her chambers, and winced when she sat down on the bed. She watched Oriella pull an old shirt out of her wardrobe that had belonged to her friend Brynjolf once upon a time.
"Oriella, please, I can't sit down.. it hurts." Persephone whined as her bard brought the old shirt over.
"Stand up then.. whatever is comfortable.. we don't know how long this will take."
Oriella helped her change into the shirt and proceeded to throw the soiled nightgown into a laundry basket in the corner.
"I'll change your sheets, my thane. It won't be comfortable trying to lie down on a wet bed."
Persephone stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as she stripped the sheets down.
"I'm sorry.. For being a nuisance." She mumbled. Oriella gave her a fleeting, but reassuring smile.
"Don't be, it isn't your fault. Your little babe just decided they wanted to come right this second, three weeks early, yes... Though you can't control that."
"Well, as true as that may be, I wish my little babe didn't have to wake me and you up in the middle of the damn night. I'll be having some strong words with them soon…"
The bard chuckled at her mistresses grumpy tone. She quickly threw on fresh linen sheets and had just finished when Gregor bounded into the room.
"Kettles on. Anything else you need, my thane?"
The eleven woman gave a small smile," I could get you to do this for me. Yeah. That would be nice."
The housecarl patted her comfortingly on the back, pausing sheepishly when she winced, " Try not to worry. If my ex missus could get through it, you are more than capable."
Persephone gave her friend a surprised look, "You never told me you had a child, Gregor."
The Nord merely shrugged, "Aye. Two. A lad and a lass. Both nearly raised now. Nevermind that, focus on breathing, deep breaths now. At least, I think that's it."
The dragonborn could only spare him a withering glare before another pain rippled across her skin. She rested both hands on the sheets and bent over in half to try and relieve the ache in her spine.
"Oh… well." She panted, already beginning to feel beads of sweat forming on her brow, "At least it can't get much worse."
It did.
Several hours later Persephone found herself curled into a ball on her bed sheets with Gregors hand locked in a vice like grip around her own.
Oriella hovered closely, murmuring encouragements, though she feared about being too smothering. The servants had learnt their lesson about their mistresses fiery temper from the poor carriage driver.
After entering the room with fresh sheets he'd foolishly joked,
"Oi lass, can ye keep it down a bit? You're scaring the cattle." Of course, it hadn't gone down well.
Persephone immediately began hurling abuse at him, before, with a new lease of life, hopped from the bed and threatened to, in her words, 'Really petrify the fucking cattle.' Before she was gently pushed away from the stunned driver by a very amused housecarl.
"Make…it… stop!" She wept as another contraction hit her. Oriella rubbed her lower back soothingly.
"It's ok, love. Your contractions are only 2 minutes apart now. Not much longer."
Persephone buried her sweat drenched face into the pillow and bellowed at the top of her lungs.
"FUCK THAT ROYAL NORD BASTARD. FUCK HIM! THIS IS HIS FAULT!"
"Persephone. Calm yourself. You are only working your body up. You need to relax." Gregor said in a firm voice, letting his other free hand grip his thanes wrist.
Persephone managed to lift her head to glare daggers at him, " Calm myself?! I'm removing another person from my body; I have a bloody right to scream! GODS!"
She cried out again when a particularly big contraction clenched her lower back.
"I'm so stupid!" She cried, as large tears trailed down her face, "I never should have gone to him.. I should have stayed away from that city, that castle and especially that fucking man! This would never have happened if I hadn't been so stubborn!"
"You were upset." Oriella reasoned, as she dabbed a wet wash cloth to the dragonborn's forehead and pushed her damp auburn hair out of her red eyes, " The man you loved was getting married. I would have been angry too."
Persephone turned her head weakly towards the other woman, "You say that, but would you have gone to his wedding, confronted him, and then have sex in his chambers? No, is the answer. Only I would do something so damn idiotic."
"You're a passionate woman. Passion often forces us to follow our hearts rather than our heads." Oriella replied.
Persephone had no reply to this. She decided to simply let her gaze travel her to her up until now silent driver. He stood leaning his back against the window sill with arms folded.
"Sun's coming up." Markus commented nonchalantly when he caught Persephone's gaze. Sure enough, when she propped herself up on her elbows, she could just about make out the distinct glow of the early morning sun peeping over the top of Dragonsreach in Whiterun to the south.
"New day. New kid." Markus chuckled.
He suddenly gave his exhausted mistress a good natured grin, "Lass, with much respect, you can't exactly ask Akatosh himself to unfruit your loins. So I suggest you get the little blighter out and enjoy having them around. No point crying over spilt seed, pardon my language. You are a lucky girl. Babies are a blessing, and though that Stormcloak fella is a right bastard, he gave ye a fine gift, intentional or not."
There was a brief silence.
"Markus… that was oddly endearing. In your own way." Oriella sighed quietly.
Persephone was taken aback. She wasn't used to Markus being soft worded and his obvious concern for her happiness made a fresh batch of tears well up behind her eyelids.
"Aw shite." She heard Markus mutter worriedly, "What did I do now?"
The dragonborn giggled, "Nothing, nothing, you just… Oh." Her lips curved into an 'O' half way through her sentence and all three servants immediately leant in closer.
"My bottom feels weird…" Persephone mumbles, her cheeks turning slightly pink at her sudden confession.
Oriella quickly lifted her nightgown up an inch to check. She stands up pale as a sheet.
"What is it?! What did you see?!" Gregor demanded, fear tightening his throat at her scared expression.
The bard swallows.
"The top of a head."
The was only a moment of deathly silence before all hell broke loose.
"W-WHAT!" Persephone screeched, suddenly more aware of the pressure in her lower region, then suddenly, the agony of an odd stretching, "FUCK NO! GOOODDDDSSSS!"
"My thane! Push now!" Gregor commands, while Oriella, having gained control of her senses, grabbed a sheet and lifted the night gown up for a better look.
"I am! I am!" Persephone screamed. She gritted her teeth and pushed with all her might.
"Keep going!" said Oriella, " The head is moving slowly."
The dragonborn panted desperately for air and tried again. Oriella started to shake her head.
"Persephone, love, nothing is happening, you need to try harder."
"I… can't. I can't do it… any harder, it hurts.." She whimpered. She felt her eyes squeeze closed when another contraction twisted her gut. She panted and groaned until the pain had eased slightly.
"Oi. Focus. You can do this." Oriella affirms. Persephone could barely comprehend her words as the stress, anxiety and pain was finally getting to her.
"Please stop… please." The Bosmer woman pleaded.
"Oi.. Oi! Listen! You can do this! Persephone, look at me, come on! Look at me please." Oriella slapped the other woman's knee several times.
She reluctantly looked her friend in the eye.
"You need to be strong girl right now. Your baby needs you to stay calm and deliver them safely. I know you want to meet your child, so for both of your sakes, push as hard as you can, NOW!"
And that she did.
Her head lifted from the pillow and her red eyes squeezed tightly shut. Both her housecarl and the bard shouted praises.
At some point Markus had taken Gregor's place as the housecarl moved further down to support one of her legs.
Oriella kept a constant pace of nodding and shaking her head.
"Ok.. ok… you're doing so good! Ok, heads out! Keep going!"
With another two final pushes, the pressure and stretching came to an end. The dragonborn's head fell back against the pillow with a weak gasp.
Almost immediately after a high pitched squeal echoed in the room. Persephone's breath caught and she struggled to lift her head up the source of the cries.
Markus looked down to her with an awestruck expression, "Ya did it lassie… Well done. You were great."
The new mother gave him an exhausted smile. Her attention however, quickly drifted back to her bard, who now had the babe wrapped in a white sheet.
She gave her mistress a winning smile,
"It's a boy."
"A.. a boy." Persephone whispered. She could see the little bundle shift in Oriella's arms. She blinked back sudden tears.
"Can… I see him..?" She asked timidly. Her bards smile became more encouraging.
"Of course! He is yours after all!"
"Here, I'll help you sit up." Gregor said. Persephone nodded her thanks once he had eased her into an upright position.
She could barely contain herself as Oriella crossed the floor with the precious bundle in her arms.
"Remember to support the head." Oriella cautioned when she gently eased the little boy into his mother's shaking arms.
To say Persephone was love struck would be an understatement.
She was completely enamoured with the small child. His small face captured her heart immediately.
She hesitantly touched his downy head and trailed her fingers down his forehead and down his temples to rest on his rosy cheeks.
She grew more confident as the seconds passed. By that time the baby had worn himself to sleep and was dozing very contently in his mother's warm embrace.
In an afterthought, Persephone pulled back the sheet from around his ears to get a better look at them.
They were round.
She swallowed thickly, "He's human."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Oriella give Gregor a nervous look before answering.
"Yes. He is, My thane. A hardy Nord boy."
"Like his father." The dragonborn murmured. As she observed her son, she began to notice other less than desirable paternal traits.
Her son possessed the high king's strong cheek bones and smooth jaw and what little hair that sat upon his head was a light blonde.
However, she could see herself in the baby's face as well.
His small nose, which she kissed softly, causing him to scrunch it up in irritation and her to giggle softly, was entirely the same to hers.
And the light sheen of brown to his skin tone was very much a Bosmer trait.
She brushed his head with her hand a few times.
"I could care less what he is. He could be a lizard and I'd still adore him. He truly is perfect." She said to no one in particular.
She pulled him closer to her chest, "However, being male and human has placed him in more danger than I can bare to stand."
"We will not allow the king to take him, my thane." Gregor swore, bending over slightly to look into the boy's face," On our words; on our lives."
Persephone glanced into each one of their faces, before dropping her gaze down to her precious bundle.
"He will not be Ulfric's pawn." She declared.
"My son… Connor, will not be placed as a piece into his sick game. I would leave Skyrim in a heartbeat if I had any chance of getting out. However, I'm sure Ulfric has guards stationed at each border gate, if he is indeed looking for me. No… no, we will hide him. We will hide him under Ulfric's nose for as long as we can."
She dropped a kiss to her newly christened son's forehead. The babe whimpered slightly in his dreams. Persephone closed her eyes.
"Ulfric cannot win."