Summary: Cicero is settling in well enough at Druadach Redoubt, in fact he's fitting in better than anyone could have anticipated. However, as Liriel sets off on her next adventure, it turns out there's more to the House of Madanach than she thought...
A/N: Warning for implied femdom BDSM between Cicero and Kaie.
Liriel rode her horse hard all the way from Markarth. What with having to walk from Dawnstar back to Falkreath, and catching some sleep at the Windpeak first, and stopping at Whiterun to rest properly and see her girls, and then going to Falkreath and convincing Astrid she really had killed Cicero, spending the night there and then reclaiming her horse and riding for the Reach, it had been a good four days since she'd seen Cicero and Argis off.
Argis hadn't been at Vlindrel Hall when she'd got there, and Nepos hadn't been much more helpful, merely telling her yes, Madanach had got her message, and yes they'd arrived safely and could she possibly get up there as soon as she could, the King was getting restless. Restless? That could cover anything from mild concern to obsessive worry about her to about to strangle Cicero. She'd left the city immediately and ridden north. Finally Druadach Redoubt loomed ahead of her, the sentries on duty recognising her and waving her through, and to her relief, Shadowmere grazing by the river. They'd made it.
Inside, Druadach Redoubt was quiet, half the camp seemingly out, presumably hunting or scavenging or on a raid of some sort. She couldn't hear Cicero. But there were two Forsworn training, one the young guardswoman Mhairi and the other a red-haired one with his face hidden by the headdress, both dual-wielding with Forsworn weapons, Mhairi trying to attack her opponent who twirled and wove and moved in absolute silence, avoiding every single blow she tried to land, but getting in quite a few on her.
On the bench nearby, Madanach was sitting watching, cheerfully calling out "Dead!" every time the red-haired Forsworn's weapons landed on Mhairi. He'd not seen her come in. Liriel dropped into a crouch and moved softly, silently over to him. Betsi the goat glanced her way but, clearly recognising her, didn't make a sound.
"Dead," Liriel whispered, placing a hand on his side as she kissed his cheek. Madanach started, before turning to see who'd dared to sneak up on him. The stony glare vanished as he saw her, and then she was being squeezed half to death in his arms.
"You're alive," she heard him say gruffly. "Thank the gods, I was worried. Liriel, what happened, are you all right? Tell me the Brotherhood didn't turn on you too."
"It's fine," Liriel gasped, feeling her voice catch at the thrill of being held that close. Mara, she'd missed him. "I told them Cicero was dead, I think they believed me. Is he here? Is he all right?"
"Other than the lunacy, yes he's fine," Madanach began, letting her go, but he didn't get to finish. The red-haired Forsworn glanced her way, squeaked, threw his weapons into the air and sent his headdress flying, and promptly bounced over.
"LISTENER, LISTENER, LISTENER IS BACK!" Cicero shrieked, leaping on to Liriel and nearly knocking her off the bench, clinging on to her for all he was worth. Liriel hugged him back, feeling tears in her eyes and a weight slide off her shoulders. He was here, he was fine, he was clearly happy and settling and...
"Oh my gods, Cicero, what happened to your jester outfit?" Liriel asked, settling him on the bench next to her. He looked so odd without the hat.
"Cicero is not allowed to leave Sanctuary wearing it in case someone recognises him or the story gets back to Astrid," Cicero said, looking a little sad at this. "So it is currently in the chest up on the top level. Cicero might wear it later. But Cicero still has his hat, look!" He produced the jester hat and pulled it back on his head, grinning brightly up at her.
"You're settling in then," Liriel said, unable to stop smiling. He just looked so carefree and happy compared to how he'd been at Falkreath. She should have smuggled him out here sooner, although she suspected he'd never have left the Night Mother. "Look at you, you look like a proper Forsworn warrior, I didn't even recognise you at first! Madanach, how on earth did you get him to part with the motley?"
"Told him he wasn't wearing it outside in case word got back to Astrid about him being here, but that if he was willing to dress like one of us, I'd let him go on raiding parties," said Madanach. "Apparently given a choice between his usual outfit and being allowed to slaughter the Nords, it'll be the violence every time."
"So much death! So much blood!" Cicero sighed, clapping his hands and bouncing on the bench, turning adoring eyes on Liriel. "Sweet Liriel, Cicero cannot thank you enough for sending him here! Everyone has been so nice! So friendly! So kind to poor outcast Cicero! They feed him and let him spar with them and Cicero is allowed to go out on raids with his new Forsworn brothers and sisters and kill everything!" Cicero's eyes gleamed with unholy delight. Dear gods, she'd created a monster. Still, Cicero seemed happy. It was just nice to know they'd been looking after him.
"Thank you," she said quietly, turning to Madanach. "I'm so sorry for landing you with him at such short notice, but his life was in danger and I couldn't think of anywhere else to send him. Thank you for looking after him, I know he's a bit high-maintenance."
Madanach shrugged. "I've dealt with worse. He cleans up after himself, can cook quite well, makes a good jenever tonic and he livens the place up. The trick is to keep him busy. Also my daughter has taken a liking to him. Hope the Night Mother isn't expecting him back any time soon."
"Not sure it's ever going to be safe for him to go back," Liriel said softly, stroking Cicero's hair. Cicero's smile had faded as he looked sorrowfully up at her. "Not while Astrid's alive."
"So kill her then," said Madanach, looking honestly baffled as to why this hadn't been done sooner.
"Because the others would turn on me, and then I'd have to run," Liriel sighed. "And then Mother would have no one."
"Because Cicero got angry and tried to stab Astrid and then had to run away," Cicero sniffled. "Poor Mother. All alone, without her Cicero to care for her! Tell me, Listener, is she all right? Did you tell her Cicero was sorry? Is she angry?"
"I told her," said Liriel, giving him another hug. "She didn't say anything, but I don't think she blames you. You were just trying to stop Astrid saying horrible things about her."
Cicero nodded, still sniffling. Madanach was watching him, understanding in his eyes.
"So that's what happened, is it? He tried to kill Astrid, failed and had to run. Not a terribly smart move, boy."
"She called Mother a wizened old corpse!" Cicero cried. "What's a fool to do when his mother's slandered and mocked? Cicero didn't care that they called him a gibbering idiot and a fool, but the Night Mother is Mother to all!"
"Well, no one's going to do that here, don't you worry," Liriel murmured, rubbing his back. "No one is, are they, Madanach?" She glanced up at him hopefully. He smiled and shook his head.
"No, no danger of that, I briefed the camp on the importance of not insulting the Night Mother while he was off hunting the other day. Guessed it wouldn't be wise to be careless around the Keeper."
A very good idea. Whatever Madanach's flaws, he was no fool. She'd chosen well. With Cicero still snuggling in her arms, she leaned against Madanach's shoulder, sighing happily as he put his arms around her.
"He's very affectionate to you. Should I be jealous?" Madanach murmured in her ear.
Jealous? Oh good gods, no, Cicero was adorable but really not her type.
"Don't be, he's like a brother to me, but he's not you," she whispered back. Unfortunately for them both, Cicero had good hearing.
"Jealous? Dear Madanach is jealous? Oh no no no, that will not do at all!" Seconds later, Cicero had wriggled out of Liriel's arms, moved to Madanach's other side and promptly started snuggling up to Madanach too. Madanach growled and tried to push him away but to no avail.
"Keeper, what have I told you about touching me?" Madanach snapped at him.
"Not to do it or you will cast Lightning Cloak again, but you will have to let go of Liriel first," Cicero purred sweetly.
"Madanach, don't you dare!" Liriel protested as Madanach promptly removed his arms from Liriel and prepared to cast. Fortunately, Kaie walked in at that moment.
"CICERO AP STELMARIA, ARE YOU HARASSING MY FATHER?"
Cicero shrieked, leapt away from Madanach and half-scrambled, half-glided to where Kaie was glaring at him with her arms folded.
"No, sweetling, never, sweetling!" Cicero cooed, sidling up to her and fluttering his eyelashes. "Cicero is a good boy!"
"I think otherwise," Kaie said, staring coolly down at him. "I think you're misbehaving again. You know what happens when you misbehave, Cicero."
Cicero's cheeks went pink, but he was grinning up at her sheepishly. "Oh yes, Cicero does indeed. Does sweet Kaie think Cicero needs some moral guidance?"
Kaie nodded once, cruel grin on her face. "Wait for me in the tent, Cicero." Cicero promptly squealed and ran off, giggling to himself all the way. Liriel wasn't at all sure what to make of that, it looked like they'd been flirting but surely not...
"Thank Sithis you turned up," Madanach growled, pulling Liriel back into his arms. "Cicero was being affectionate again."
"How awful for you," Kaie grinned. "At least he's stopped calling you sweet Madanach now."
Madanach visibly shuddered at the mere idea. Liriel bit back the urge to laugh, squeezing his hand.
"It means he likes you," Liriel told him. "He was all on his own in Cheydinhal Sanctuary for years after everyone else died or left and the Dark Brotherhood fell apart. He was so lonely, he's now desperate for any scrap of kindness or physical contact he can get."
"He has my daughter for that, he doesn't need to bother me," Madanach said tersely. Kaie just grinned, almost preening as she took a seat next to Liriel.
"Oh he is very good at physical contact, believe me," Kaie purred, and that was definitely the look of someone who'd recently had some very satisfying sex.
"Are you sleeping with Cicero?" Liriel demanded, suddenly feeling the urge to protect him. He was lonely and vulnerable, he didn't need Kaie taking advantage!
"And?" Kaie asked, raising an eyebrow. "He's quite consenting and knows what he's doing, I assure you."
"He's insane and vulnerable and hasn't had anyone in years!" Liriel cried. "Don't tell me you're in love with him."
"No, but that's not the point!" Kaie sighed. "He's there, we're both willing, we're adults, what's the problem? I'm not doing a thing to him he doesn't want."
It still seemed all wrong to Liriel's ears, and she just hoped Cicero wasn't in love with Kaie because the last thing she wanted was to have to deal with a heartbroken jester when Kaie got bored of him. But she wasn't human and freely admitted she didn't really understand how they saw love and life yet. She guessed when life was so short you had to take what happiness you could get.
"Fine," she sighed. "But don't break his heart or be cruel to him. Cicero's very loyal but he does not take betrayal well."
Kaie did soften at that. "Don't worry, he's a sweet little thing. I'll make sure I'm fair to him." She patted Liriel on the shoulder and got up. "Right, I have a very naughty boy to deal with. I'll see you both later."
"Muffle spells," was all Madanach said, waving his daughter off.
"I will if you will," Kaie said, rather pointedly. Madanach grunted but did at least nod as she ran off to where Cicero was waiting.
"I can't believe you're completely fine with Cicero having sex with your daughter," Liriel said, resting back in Madanach's arms again. "I always thought you'd be the overprotective type."
"He's not having sex with her, she's having sex with him. There's a difference," said Madanach, shrugging. "Kaie's a grown woman, she can do what she wants. Possibly if she was marrying him, I might have to test his suitability, but the traditional way, sending him off to kill dangerous beasts, isn't even going to be a challenge for him. Liriel, why didn't you tell me he was that young?"
"Young?" Liriel hadn't even thought about Cicero's age. "Is he young?"
Madanach sighed, exasperated. "Liriel, you gave me to understand the role of Keeper was a ceremonial one, where the holder retired his blade. I assumed he'd be my age or older, shifted off to tend to the Night Mother when his body gave out or his mind went. Cicero's barely forty, and while he's utterly mad, he's very functional, and still very cunning."
"He's certainly a survivor," Liriel admitted. "Honestly, Madanach, he was made Keeper because they needed one and he seemed like the best choice. They'd just lost their Listener and the Night Mother's crypt. The priority was picking the most loyal one there to ensure the Night Mother's body was preserved. So they went for Cicero. The sad thing was, he was sane back then. It was only after the Night Mother spoke to no one and people started to leave or die that his mind started to go."
Madanach was quiet, just shaking his head.
"He was wasted on that job," he said finally. "Liriel, you have no idea... we sent him out with a hunting party to give him something to do because he was getting bored here and we figured he must know how to handle a blade if he'd been an assassin once. They ran into a party of Stormcloaks, him and three of the younglings. Liriel, the way they tell it, it was like watching something from Oblivion itself, like a Dremora leaping into action. He tore through two of them like they weren't even there and gutted a third before any of those with him had even had time to cast their armour. I didn't believe it when they told me, so I led another party myself so I could see him in action. Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be true. Liriel, he's one of the most capable warriors I've ever seen. No one can touch him in sparring, no one. He's fast, small, hard to hit, always moving, sneaks like the best of us, fantastic shot with a bow. They retired him, why?"
"I don't know," Liriel said softly. "There just mustn't have been anyone else. I'm sorry, Madanach."
"Sorry? Don't be, the Brotherhood's loss is our gain," Madanach laughed. "The camp love him. The younger ones all think he's some sort of demi-god, he's won over my notoriously picky blood-brothers by listening in awe to all their stories of death and murder, What Shall We Do With The Captured Stormcloak has five new and very violent verses, and as you can see, my daughter's taken a fancy to him. I'm afraid we're keeping him."
Liriel slowly raised her eyes to his. He wasn't joking, she could tell.
"You – you mean it? You all actually like him? You don't think he's a gibbering lunatic or anything?"
"Oh believe me, we think he's exactly that," said Madanach. "But just because he's more than a little Void-touched doesn't mean he's not useful or likeable. We'll look after him for you, Liriel, don't worry."
Liriel reached out, pulled him to her and kissed him for all she was worth. Words just weren't enough to thank him with. He'd taken in her sweet, insane, lonely brother and looked after him, given him a new purpose. For that alone, she'd love him. Madanach was kissing her back, fingers trailing over her collarbones and down her back, and as a hand trailed over her breasts, he was whispering in her ear, "shall we take this back to my tent, cariad?"
Liriel couldn't agree more.
It was several hours later by the time Liriel finally emerged, brushing her hair into shape, always feeling a little nervous about facing the rest of the camp after a session with Madanach. No one ever said a word, but they all knew what had been going on, even if Madanach had at least cast a modified Muffle spell on the tent flaps this time. She still couldn't get her head around how no one seemed to care what they'd been up to. Last time, she'd emerged afterwards, been greeted by Braig as if nothing had happened and calmly passed a bowl of stew.
This time, it was to find her own housecarl sitting by the camp fire in Forsworn armour, stirring something in the pot. Now this was awkward.
"Er... hi Argis?"
"My Th-" he stopped and laughed, looking a little embarrassed. "Liriel. Guess you're not really Thane here, are you?"
"I'm not sure what I am here, to be honest," Liriel admitted, taking a seat round the fire from him. "Not Reach-Queen, that's for certain."
"Wouldn't dream of calling you that," said Argis, retrieving a bowl and filling it for her. "Venison stew? Hunted the deer myself earlier."
"Dressed like that?" Liriel asked. It was very unusual to see Argis in anything that wasn't heavy armour, and a little uncomfortable if she was honest. Not that her own Forsworn gear was any less revealing, but at least she was used to wearing it.
"Can't sneak in steel plate," was all Argis said. "Also it's a bit of a giveaway for a party of Forsworn to have a heavily armoured Nord tagging along."
"You're not a Nord, you just look like one." Madanach had emerged by this time, and Argis wordlessly produced a bowl of food for him without even blinking.
"Yes sir," Argis said, in the resigned tones of someone who'd been told this hundreds of times before but had given up arguing.
"Now if you could say it with some conviction next time, that would be even better," said Madanach a little pointedly as he took a seat next to Liriel. "So Liriel, how's he been as a housecarl? No trouble, I trust?"
"No, he's been very helpful and very loyal," said Liriel, wondering what was going on here. There was a strange subtext to this whole conversation, and while Liriel was fairly certain that Madanach trusted Argis or he'd never have got this far, she also wasn't sure why Madanach seemed to be putting him through his paces like this. "He's a good housecarl, very understanding about the whole Dragonborn business and helping the Forsworn and desperate missions of rescue in the middle of the night." She shot Argis what she hoped was a reassuring smile and to her surprise, he smiled back.
"I worked for him for fifteen years, I'm quite used to dealing with unreasonable requests at short notice," Argis told her, grinning. Liriel bit her lip and tried not to laugh. Madanach was looking most put out, but surprisingly, not enraged or offended.
"Lad, I hope you weren't just giving me lip in my own camp," Madanach said sternly.
"No sir," said Argis quickly, sounding a little bit like Cicero did when he protested his innocence of some misdemeanour that he was almost definitely guilty of.
"Should hope not," Madanach growled. "Now, I imagine Liriel won't be staying for too long, as she's got important Dragonborn business to attend to – Argis, when she leaves, you'll be going with her. Remember your orders with regards to her, she's important."
"To protect her with my life, I know," said Argis softly, looking away. To Liriel's surprise, Madanach's gaze softened a little as he watched Argis.
"And as for you, Dragon-Queen, your job is to look after yourself and make sure he doesn't have to. No stupid risks, no getting him or you killed. I want him back in one piece, understand?"
"Understood," said Liriel, snuggling into Madanach and kissing him on the cheek. She still didn't know what was going on exactly between Madanach and Argis but it was clear there was a mutual affection and respect there. Madanach had clearly assigned one of his best to watch over her – sacrificing an undercover agent to better guard his intended queen. She'd make sure it didn't go to waste.
"I'll look after him, I promise," she told Madanach.
"See that you do, he's irreplaceable," said Madanach gruffly. Liriel imagined it would indeed be hard to find another Nord-Reachman half-blood with Forsworn sympathies at short notice.
"I won't get your best agent killed, I promise," she told him. Madanach went still, before hugging her just that bit tighter. Very, very strange. After a moment's awkward silence, Madanach changed the subject and the conversation passed to lighter topics, leaving Liriel to ponder. Something was going on here, and Liriel was determined to find out what it was.
Next day saw Liriel and Argis preparing to leave, Liriel reclaiming Shadowmere while Argis took Liriel's horse. What looked like the entire camp turned out to see them off. Kaie was there, Cicero bouncing at her side, giving first Liriel a hug and then Argis. Liriel had been surprised to see Kaie and Argis knew each other, right up until Kaie had explained Argis had invariably been the one sneaking her in to see Madanach every week for the last decade and more. There was definite friendship there. Then there'd been Cicero, clinging on to Liriel and begging the dear, sweet Listener to take care and not get killed and to check on Mother for him, before Kaie finally peeled him off her and promised to make sure Cicero was all right. Cicero had snuggled into Kaie's arms, cooing at her – something Liriel still couldn't get her head round, the idea of Cicero having sex. Still, he seemed happy, despite the scratches and lovebites visible under his Forsworn gear.
Finally Madanach stepped forward, staring intently at Argis and making him promise to take care of his Dragon-Queen and looking for a moment as if he was about to embrace Argis – but in the end he settled for patting his arm, and turning to Liriel.
"Whatever mad dragon business you've got to take care of now, you make sure you don't die, you hear me? You get back here and bring – bring the lad back too."
"I will," Liriel whispered, breathing him in as she made the most of having him in her arms again. "I promise. You take care too."
He nodded and kissed her and for a few moments nothing else mattered or barely existed, just the two of them, arms around each other, lips on hers, the warmth of his body and being able to sense his magicka crackling quietly under his skin, power to match her own, and there was a reason she'd given in and fallen for him and those impressive magical skills were it. Maybe her lover didn't have to be a mer after all, but the one thing she'd never compromise on was the magic.
Finally, it was time to go. Liriel mounted Shadowmere, Argis behind on her own horse, and the camp waved her off. Madanach stood watching the longest, not moving until they were out of sight, and Cicero also chased after, waving and calling "kill well, Listener! Kill lots of things!"
Liriel waved back until Shadowmere turned the corner and they were gone. Argis spurred his mount alongside Liriel's.
"We're not going back to Markarth then." Liriel had ridden north and east, not south, clearly intending to leave the Reach by its northern border.
"No."
"So where are we going then, my thane?" Argis was nothing if not persistent. She might as well tell him. She'd not told Madanach as she was worried he'd lose his temper and try and stop her, but Argis had more sense than to try and get in a Dragonborn's way.
"Winterhold. You know I'm Archmage there? I need to use the Arcanaeum. Need to see what we've got on Elder Scrolls. I need one to find out how to stop Alduin."
Argis actually laughed and fell quiet for a few moments before speaking up again.
"Seriously, Liriel, where are we really going?"
"We're really going to the College," Argis had said, only shivering a little as he saw to the horses, leaving them settled by the inn. He seemed more intimidated by the College than actually cold.
"We really are," Liriel said, taking his arm. "Come on, you're fine with a Forsworn camp but not this?"
"Different," Argis muttered. "I'm one of them even if I never could get the hang of magic. What if the wizards start judging me? My thane, I can barely cast the Flames spell. Da loved me anyway but I could tell I was a disappointment."
"No one's judging you," Liriel soothed him. "You're here as an honoured guest of the Archmage. It'll be fine."
Argis muttered under his breath and edged closer to Liriel as he followed her over the bridge, only wincing a little at the broken bit that always gave Liriel the shivers too. But eventually they were in, and Argis calmed down once inside.
It turned Urag had very little on the Elder Scrolls, nothing but something on Moth Priests and the ramblings of a lunatic that Liriel took one look at and wished she'd brought Cicero. Maybe getting someone else fluent in Lunatic to look at it would help. Still, it wasn't completely fruitless – Urag had been able to tell them the author was still out there, in the icefields, still researching. Liriel pocketed the book and decided to venture out there tomorrow.
Which left her and Argis spending the night in the Archmage's Quarters, with no spare bed.
"I, er, is there anywhere I can sleep?" Argis asked, looking nervous.
Well, there was her old dorm bed in the Hall of Attainment, but Argis looked even more panicked at the idea of sleeping alone in a dorm full of wizards.
"It's fine, I'll take the floor, there's a rug over there," he said quickly. Liriel threw her hands in the air.
"It's not fine, you'll freeze!"
"What about a chair, I don't mind sleeping upright, done it before," said Argis, trying to sound nonchalant.
"For the love of Sithis, man, take the damn bed!" Liriel shouted, Thu'um-laced voice making the walls shake. "Sleep alongside me, I promise I won't molest you, you're not my type." He really wasn't, although Liriel wasn't blind either and on a purely physical level, Argis was definitely an attractive man. But she couldn't feel his magicka, not like she could Madanach's. Argis' magicka pool was there, but tiny compared to the Reach-King's.
"Now you're starting to sound like him," Argis muttered, slight grin on his face as he started to take his armour off. "Look the other way then, Reach-Queen. Keep on acting like Madanach, and I can promise you you won't be remotely my type either."
Liriel dimmed the lights and politely looked the other way as Argis crawled into bed. She disappeared round the corner, changed into a full night-shift and hastily ran back, diving under the covers before the cold could bite.
"Why, why did they build this place so far north?" she whispered. There was a reason she didn't visit all that often, and that was the constant cold.
"No idea," Argis muttered, edging a bit closer to her for warmth. "You're Archmage, you can go hassle the Orc librarian and find out, can't you?"
"I think I've hassled him enough for one day," Liriel whispered.
"Want me to hassle him for you?" Argis whispered back. "Magic or not, I could take him in a fist-fight."
"No!" Liriel gasped, fighting back a fit of the giggles. "No fighting my staff, Argis! You'll get thrown out! Honestly, you're meant to be a Forsworn in Nord's clothing, you're meant to respect magic."
"I do," and Argis' mood had shifted, his cheerfulness evaporating and giving way to sadness. "I just wish I could be really one of them, a proper Reachman like Da. He keeps telling me I'm one where it matters, but I look like a Nord, I can't use magic and even if I gave all the right signals, I don't think I'd be welcome at any camp other than his."
Any camp other than his... and Liriel realised the blindingly bloody obvious once she thought about it. Forsworn father who'd saved him from the Nord invasion of Markarth – no, not saved him, sent people to get him to his camp. Druadach Redoubt, his camp then and now.
"You're Madanach's son," Liriel breathed and from the way Argis had gone tense, she knew she was right.
"Oh gods," she heard him say, and she didn't even think a man could sound that terrified. "I didn't mean to, no one's meant to know, Kaie doesn't even know, please don't tell anyone, please..."
"Argis," Liriel whispered, moving closer and putting an arm around him. "Argis, it's all right, it's fine, it's... how? Well alright, I know how, but Madanach and a Nord woman? I thought he hated them all."
"Oh he still does," Argis said bitterly. "But he made an exception for Ma. She was a hunter, used to live out in the hills above Soljund's Sinkhole. One day she was out hunting and came across the aftermath of a fight between the Forsworn and the guards. Everyone was dead apart from one of the Forsworn, and he was badly injured. Ma didn't care about politics, never did, so she gave him some healing potions and got him back to her little cabin, nursed him back to health, hid him when Nord soldiers called round asking if she'd seen any Forsworn in the area. He had to leave eventually but not before they'd got a little friendly. When he left, he left her pregnant. She moved to the city after she found out, got a job as the blacksmith's assistant. I grew up not knowing who my father was and not caring, not until I was eight years old and the Forsworn took Markarth. Ma was quite prepared to fight, right up until she saw who was leading them. He saw her too and they just stared at each other, and then he saw me looking out from the doorway to our house. Then he ordered the Forsworn to leave her be, the city would need good weaponsmiths, and left a couple of guards to keep an eye on us. A few days later they crowned him Reach-King, and his wife Reach-Queen alongside him, his three little girls declared princesses, and one of them, the eldest, was around my age. We ended up becoming playmates, Eithne and me, and then the King himself started using that as an excuse to visit. I don't think he and Ma were ever lovers again, but there were always guards wandering past, keeping an eye on her and me, and Da himself stopping by and playing with Eithne and me, trying to teach us magic and sword-fighting. I was never any good at magic, but Eithne was a natural. Always told her I'd marry her when I grew up. Didn't know she was my sister at the time of course, didn't know the Reach-King was my damn father. Guess he didn't want it getting out he had a half-Nord son. He always told me later that it was because he didn't want Queen Mireen finding out and killing Ma and me, but I don't know if he'd have been as careful if I'd been a true son of the Reach."
"You are," Liriel found herself saying. "Sithis, Argis, he loves you. He said you were irreplaceable and for me to bring you back in one piece. I thought he just didn't want to lose a valued agent, but damn it all, he's your father, of course he is."
"Yeah. Yeah, he is and he does, I know, and I'd do anything for him, but... it's hard, seeing him with Kaie and wishing I could call him father too." Argis had rolled over on to his back, staring at the ceiling. "I used to back when they first brought me to Druadach Redoubt. I was ten years old, the Stormcloaks had just murdered my mother in front of me, the Forsworn guards got there too late to save her, but they were able to fight the Nords off long enough for one of them to find me and get me out of the city. There's secret passages out into the mountains all over Markarth if you know where to look. Madanach got out of one, Queen Mireen got out of another with the Reach-Princesses, and the guards with me took me after my father. When I finally got there, scared and traumatised and crying for my mother, they took me into this Forsworn camp with goats' heads all over the place and tents and Forsworn warriors and then there's the damn Reach-King looking utterly wiped out, looking worse than I felt, and I just burst into tears again, right there in front of the King himself and..." Argis took a deep breath, clearly not far off crying again, Liriel certainly had tears in her eyes. Sithis, if that had been either of her babies...
"It's all right," Liriel whispered, patting his arm. "It's OK, it was a long time ago."
"Feels like yesterday," Argis said quietly. "Da took one look at me and his whole expression changed, just despair giving way to hope, and he asked the guard what happened to Ma. They told him she'd been killed and he looked genuinely grieved then got down on his knees next to me and held me and told me he was sorry, so sorry he'd not been able to save Ma but he'd look after me now, the Forsworn looked after their own. I told him I wasn't one, but he just held me and told me yes I was, I was Argis ap Madanach and for as long as he drew breath, he'd make sure his son was taken care of. Of course, back then he didn't know if his wife and daughters had made it out, for all he knew, I was all he had left. But I didn't care back then. I was scared and unhappy and it turned out my da was the Reach-King that was. He swore the entire camp to secrecy on pain of something extremely unpleasant happening, and because he was the damn King in Rags, everyone kept their mouths shut. I lived there for five years – Da wasn't always there, he was visiting other camps, mainly the one Mireen and the girls had holed up at, but the place was home and I was happy. He kept his word, looked after me, taught me how to fight. I remembered seeing the way everyone looked up to him and wanting to be just like him. Then one day Eithne showed up, insisting her mother was being impossible and she'd had enough. So of course Da then had to tell her she had a brother and she was mostly just really annoyed that she couldn't marry me now. But she was really pleased to see me again, and so was I. We used to get up to all sorts of mischief. She'd been there for a matter of months when the Nords tracked us down finally. They butchered the entire camp, I only survived because Da locked me in the cage before they breached the camp, made it look like I was a hostage. I had to watch while they killed everyone in front of me, and then that Stormcloak bastard just Shouted my sister to the floor and ran her through, and Da... He'd been fighting like a maniac, magic everywhere, cutting a bloody swathe through them all, and by the time they got to her, there were just a handful left, Ulfric, Thonar and Thongvor Silver-Blood, Igmund, one or two others. Then Eithne went for Ulfric, the little idiot, and he just butchered her to death. Da surrendered after that. The fight just died out of him when Eithne did. I don't think he'd have even cared if they'd killed him after that."
Liriel had heard it before from Madanach, knew he still grieved even now, twenty years on, but to hear it confirmed by someone else, someone also grieving and who couldn't even admit his grief openly... She could see silent tears on his cheeks, and she knew the tears were rolling down her own.
"He ended up in Cidhna Mine, I ended up in the guards," Argis finished. "I got approached by Nepos the Nose not long after Da was imprisoned, asking if I still wanted to help the cause. Told him I'd love to help stick it to the bastards who killed Eithne. Turned into a Forsworn agent right there. Never told anyone why though. Wasn't safe. Still isn't. Everyone in that camp who knew I was his son died, except Da himself. He knows, so does Nepos, but no one else. Not even Kaie. Between the Nords and fear of what his wife might do, Da's acted like I'm not his."
"He's not done that brilliant a job of it," said Liriel, recalling all the little interactions between Madanach and Argis that she'd seen at the camp. The odd mix of deference and teasing on Argis' part, the mix of pride and worry on Madanach's. No wonder he'd wanted Argis out of the guards once he got out of prison and didn't need a liaison any more. She had to wonder, was Argis really intended to protect her, or did Madanach want his son under the protection of the fiercest fighter in Skyrim? It didn't even matter by this point. Argis was her friend and she'd be damned if he came to any harm.
"He's different when there's no one else about. And he trusts you. You're good for him. Thank you, stepma."
"Definitely do not call me that," Liriel shuddered. "Honestly, I think I preferred Reach-Queen."
"Sorry," Argis said, not sounding remotely sorry, and how she'd not seen the resemblance sooner was beyond her.
"Your father's going to be when I next see him," said Liriel, thinking of all the things she was going to be shouting at him when she next saw him. "He never told me. You're my damn housecarl and he never said you were his son? His wife's not even alive any more, he can stop hiding you, from the Forsworn anyway."
"Kaie's still alive," said Argis softly. "Kaie loved her mother a great deal. I don't think she'd react too well to knowing her father was unfaithful once."
"Once," Liriel said softly. "Thirty years ago at least – thirty five years ago in fact. Everyone has their weaknesses. He and I are going to have words when we next see him. Count on it, Argis."
"I'll write and tell him to flee the country now," said Argis calmly. Liriel shoved him in the side, and then both of them burst out laughing.
"He'll never leave the Reach, not now," she finally said, drying her eyes.
"No, not now," said Argis, turning serious again. "He'll be Reach-King again or die trying."
Liriel really wished he'd not mentioned Madanach dying. The mere thought made her heart ache and reminded her some problems were beyond even a Dragonborn's powers.
She couldn't worry about it now. She had a Scroll to find and a world to save. Deal with Alduin first. Then sort out the Reach's problems. Which of the two was going to be easier, she couldn't even begin to guess.
A/N: 'Ap' is from the Welsh for son of - I'm having the Forsworn use it as a generic term meaning 'child of'. Usually the name of the same-sex parent is used, but not if you're either a son who never knew his father, or a daughter whose father is very high-status.