Forging the Heart's Desire
Chapter 11
Balimund and Alyssa had barely left each other's company since her return, only separating long enough to sleep. She told him stories of her journey (holding back Dragonborn-related details, of course) while he fussed over her dangerous lifestyle. He knew she was a strong and cunning woman, but he also knew no matter what, he would worry. The dangers of Skyrim were nothing to be taken lightly. But she was back, and that was all that mattered.
The day of their departure arrived, and the two left for the stables. Asbjorn and Svana helped them carry their belongings and load them into the back of the carriage. It seemed Alyssa was packing light compared to the Nord. Balimund was curious and had almost asked her about it, but shrugged it off. She knew what she was doing.
The smith had leaned down to whisper to the Breton woman that the carriage was private; no one would be getting on or off but the two of them. She grinned up at him, leaning close so only he could hear her. "Why, Master… do you intent to have your way with me for all of Kynareth's children to see?" She was being playful, he knew. It didn't stop the shiver that went down his spine at her words.
"I wouldn't dream of compromising you, my dear… but I would be lying if I said I didn't plan on stealing a few kisses." Here he illustrated by doing just that. She would have deepened the kiss if the carriage driver hadn't approached. Sigaar explained the route they would take. They would ride straight there but for one stop-over in Whiterun, long enough to rest the horse and for them to get something to eat.
Alyssa bit her lip. If she had been honest with Balimund from the start, she could have invited him to Breezehome to meet her most-beloved housecarl, Lydia. Instead, she would have to sneak away long enough to pick up a few things and chat with the Nord woman who had been her sword and shield nearly a year.
Balimund climbed into the carriage, then gently pulled Alyssa up and in as well. They said their goodbyes to the younger couple. Alyssa was bewildered at Svana's sobbing. The Nord girl had been smiling and weeping at them since they'd left the forge, Asbjorn quietly chastising her to be still. The Breton couldn't figure it out, but left it alone. Svana said she was fine; better than that even. The carriage rolled away from the stable, the tavern maiden and apprentice waving until they were out of sight.
The ride to Whiterun was pleasant. The trees were lush and green, swaying in the soft breeze. The air was almost warm, but it didn't stop the smith from pulling the Breton closer. She burrowed into him, laying her head on his chest. She never wanted the ride to stop. Let them stay this way, in this moment forever. He cupped her face with his free hand, lifting tenderly to look into her eyes. Gods, this man was… everything. He was everything to her. When she fought that black-winged demon, she would be fighting for Balimund. Not Skyrim, not Tamriel. Him.
The smith leaned down and captured her lips. He had laughed inwardly the first time he had recognized the taste of honey when kissing Alyssa. She was perfect. If only they could force time to speed up so they could be at the festival. They would laugh and dance, then he would get on his knee and ask her to be his forever. He buried the thought of Alyssa's allegiance and duty to Nocturnal; here on Nirn, for as long as they lived, she would be his. And when her time came, he would fight tooth and nail to keep her soul. After all, her soul was his soul. Nocturnal had no claim on him.
Their kisses seemed to have some magic to them, for what felt like a few minutes had been hours, the sun sitting close to the western horizon. The carriage driver announcing their arrival to Whiterun. They dismounted and entered the city. Sigaar promised to watch their belongings, but Alyssa took her pack inside. She also pulled the hood of her dark green cloak up, concealing her face.
Balimund's brow furrowed. "Everything all right?"
She peeked at him, and smiled warmly. "Yes. Just a little sunny for my taste. Balimund, I am going to go see an old friend. I'll be back in time to leave again. She and I have… private matters to discuss." She felt guilty for being deceptive, but she couldn't risk him finding out who she was before she told him herself. "Enjoy some supper. I hear the Bannered Mare is wonderful."
With that, she turned and left for a house barely 30 feet from where they had been standing together. Without knocking, the Breton walked inside. He sighed. That had been… strange. Perhaps this friend was an old lover? No, she said it was a 'she'. And he wasn't going down that road. He trusted her. She would never keep something important like that from him, or do anything to hurt him. Whoever it was, it was none of his business. Who knows, maybe she'd tell him if he didn't press it?
Balimund looked at a tanned Imperial working the local forge. It might be pleasant to talk shop with a fellow smith, but being in an Empire hold had many risks. He couldn't be too careful. Best to not speak to anyone. Just eat and when Alyssa returned, they could head out. He reached into his pocket, tracing the ring with his finger. He hoped she would like it. He believed she had a preference for silver; she wore a silver ring with a ruby, if that was any indication.
Just another half day's journey and they would be in Solitude. They could eat breakfast, walk around, and wait for the festival. He would also choose a vantage point for observing the Jarl of Solitude and the famous General Tullius. They would no doubt choose a secluded, high place to watch the festivities. Gods, he hoped Ulfric Stormcloak knew what he was doing. What good would it do to know where these people were during a festival? These annual events could hold little benefit for the High King.
Lydia had been happy to see her Thane safe. She had seen her a few short weeks ago, when the Dragonborn had petitioned for the Jarl's assistance. There were no formalities between the two, and they embraced each other warmly. "Alyssa! What brings you here?"
The Breton smiled warmly. "Hello, Lydia. I am just here for a stopover. I am taking a carriage to Solitude for the Festival."
"Where is your horse?" Alyssa had left her black mare, Ebony, at the Riften stable. She had rode the poor beast across Skyrim, and it needed a long rest from outrunning trolls and tromping up the sides of mountains.
The Thane blushed, her smile sheepish. "I… I am not traveling alone."
This would have been nothing to Lydia; her Thane had a few others in her service. But the way Alyssa had looked when she said it spoke volumes. The housecarl's eyebrow quirked. "Oh?"
The two sat down as the Dragonborn described the smith and all that had transpired. Lydia couldn't believe it! "So… what is he to you?"
Alyssa flushed, looking out the window. "He… I love him. Very much. It frightens me how much."
Lydia put a hand over her Thane's. "And he? Does he feel the same?"
"I don't know. I think so… I hope so." Alyssa would be devastated if he didn't return her feelings. She had fallen hard for the smith. If he changed his mind… no, he wouldn't. He returned her affection and held her the way a man ought to. She was being irrational.
"Who of you is wearing the amulet?" Lydia's question puzzled her.
"Amulet?"
Lydia looked incredulous at first, but her expression softened. The Dragonborn was a Breton; she obviously had no clue about Nordic marriage customs. And if the man was unsure of her Thane's feelings…
Lydia rose and went to her room, returning with a golden amulet, a blue stone within the symbol of Mara hanging from the center. She handed it to Alyssa. She looked at her housecarl confused. "An amulet of Mara?"
The Nord woman nodded. "In Skyrim, our custom is when a person wants to be married, they wear this amulet. Suitors will recognize the amulet, and express their desire to wed the wearer. If you wear this, he will know you are interested."
Alyssa's eyebrows flew up. "What? I had no idea… but, I can't do that!"
It was Lydia's turn to be confused. "Why not? You said you love him, so…?"
Alyssa stared at the amulet, tracing the stone with her fingers. She inhaled deeply. "What if… when I fight Alduin, what if I… don't come back?" Alyssa looked up sadly. "I couldn't do that to him. Promise to be his only to die."
Lydia smiled reassuringly. "My Thane- Alyssa. We Nords have a saying. 'Life is too short.' Our lives are regularly filled with danger and death, and we have learned to appreciate those precious moments where we are happy. Don't let your fears hold you back. Besides, I am sure he understands the risks."
Alyssa looked away, ashamed. "I haven't told him yet."
"Told him what?" Lydia's brow furrowed. Alyssa looked at her meaningfully. The housecarl's eyes went wide. "He doesn't know you're-"
"I am going to tell him. At the King Olaf Festival."
Lydia shook her head. "How does he not know you're the Dragonborn? Somebody would have-"
"There is only one in Riften who knows who I am. To the rest of the city, I am just Alyssa Wulfe." The Dragonborn thought of Brynjolf. She hoped her note reached him. She wasn't about to face him after their last encounter.
The Nord woman considered this, before nodding to herself. "Right. Wear it anyway. If he loves you, he won't care who you are. And he'll want to marry you, Alyssa. Who wouldn't?" Here Lydia smiled again. "And you're not going to die. You are the Dragonborn! Besides, you have me and the others to help you."
Alyssa imagined a life with Balimund. She would be lying if she said she hadn't wanted that almost as long as she had known him. She sighed and placed the necklace over her head. She tucked it carefully beneath her tunic. She would wait for the right time to reveal it, if she ever got the nerve.
"Lydia… why do you have this?"
It was Lydia's turn to look away. "I had wanted a man, once. He died before I could show it to him." Alyssa put her hand on Lydia's, who took it, smiling sadly. "All the more reason for you not to wait, My Thane."
Balimund was waiting in the carriage when Alyssa arrived. He pulled her in and held her close. He signaled for Sigaar to go, and looked down at his hidden treasure. She smiled up at him, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Something had shifted in her. She seemed a little distant, and although he held her warmly against him, Alyssa didn't respond as she had when they had first left. Confused, Balimund remained silent the rest of the ride there.
The night had passed quietly. Alyssa had fallen asleep, but her face was contorted, showing signs of discomfort. When she began to whimper, Balimund pulled her closer, hoping to give her comfort in her sleep. What had happened in Whiterun?
When they arrived in Solitude, she seemed even more distant, looking around warily and hardly speaking. Breakfast had been awkward. The smith was disappointed. He had hoped the trip would be pleasant, and lead to a pleasant evening. He tried to focus on the mission to distract his growing uneasiness.
...
Alyssa was afraid that any moment someone would recognize her and give her away before she could tell Balimund about her status here. She had been lucky no one had recognized her in Whiterun. But there were bards, soldiers, and citizens everywhere; even Jarl Elisif was expected to be at tonight's festival. She knew Balimund was getting upset with her. She had been so quiet since their arrival for fear of someone recognizing her voice.
Just before the festival, Alyssa excused herself, heading for Proudspire Manor, her home away from home. She hated doing this to Balimund, but she hadn't seen Jordis much longer than Lydia, and owed her an explanation.
Balimund retired to his room. He had debated sharing a room with Alyssa, fearing she would take it as his being too forward. He had enough coin for two rooms, but she had insisted on paying for her own. That had to be a bad sign. Running his hand through his hair, he huffed. He was frustrated; he was trying his best to show her a good time, but she seemed to want nothing to do with him. Had his first fear of her meeting a lover in Whiterun been right? Was she regretting this?
The time for the festival had arrived, and Alyssa had returned to the Winking Skeever in time to meet him. She still had her cloak on and pulled up, but she had exchanged her leather pants and tunic for a green dress with red trim. She had the Amulet of Mara on, but it was hidden beneath her cloak.
Balimund, dressed in his finer merchant clothes, greeted her hesitantly. The blue tunic brought out his eyes, the gold trim complimenting his fair hair. Gods, he was handsome. She smiled a little and took his arm. They walked in silence to the cobblestone square where the burlap scarecrow awaited his effigy.
Balimund scanned the crowd for any signs of the Jarl and her lap dog general. Alyssa noticed this. "Looking for someone?"
"Hm? Oh… no." He hated lying to her, but he didn't want to put her in danger. After tonight, he should probably tell her about his involvement with the Rebellion. She would be surprised to be sure, but knew she would see reason. It was clear that the Empire was unfit to rule here.
He continued to scan the crowd when he saw a familiar face. One of the smiths he had worked with back in Windhelm. Beirand, wasn't it? Had Ulfric called him for the same mission? The smiths made eye contact, The Solitude Forge Master just as surprised to see Balimund. Instead of greeting or saluting him, his eyes narrowed. He motioned for a Legion guard.
"Shit." Balimund cursed, realizing that Beirand had been sent on a mission, but not here, and not by Ulfric. Just as Balimund had been assigned to spy, so had the Solitude smith- for the Empire. Two guards approached the couple, one man seizing Balimund's arm. "Alright, Stormcloak, you're coming with us."
"What is the meaning of this!?" Alyssa made to move for the guard, but the other one held her back. "Stay back, miss. This man is one of Ulfric Stormcloak's spies. He has been identified by a loyal citizen of the Empire." Balimund struggled enough to warrant both guards to hold his arms none-too-gently. The crowd had started to watch them.
"Stop this!" Alyssa panicked. There had to be a mistake. Balimund was no spy! Right? But he had been acting strange since they had arrived; so serious, and methodical. Like a scout. No. He couldn't be.
"I said stop this… by order of the Thane of Solitude." Here Alyssa dropped her hood, the guards immediately recognizing her. Balimund just stared, sure he had misheard her. Did she really think they would believe that she-?
"Forgive us, Thane. But he has been identified. He must be taken to the jail to await sentencing."
"I am telling you that there has been a mistake. This man has been in my company the entire time. I have known him many years, and he is as loyal to the Empire as your so-called informant." Alyssa lied easily. She wouldn't let a headsman have at Balimund for anything.
The Legion men let go of the Nord slowly. "Forgive us, Thane. We must have been misinformed. We apologize, sir." They nodded to Balimund before leaving for the troublesome smith who'd caused the commotion. The crowd returned their attentions to the music and food.
Balimund continued to stare at Alyssa, incredulous. She twisted her hands together anxiously, not looking directly into his eyes. Gods, why?
"Thane?" He asked accusingly. He wouldn't have believed it if it wasn't for the immediate obedience of the guards. She was a thane? Of Solitude of all places! His eyes narrowed.
"Balimund, don't look at me like that. I was going to tell you-"
"When? Exactly when were you going to tell me you served the very people who have oppressed my homeland? My people?"
Alyssa's head snapped up to stare at him. The events of the moment before played through her head. He… it was true! He was a Stormcloak. It showed in his anger at her allegiance. It was her turn to be upset. She spoke quietly so as not to draw attention.
"And when had you planned on telling me you were one of Ulfric's soldiers?"
Balimund squirmed a bit. "I'm not, exactly. And I was going to tell you. After tonight."
"Is this why we're here? Are you spying on Elisif?" His expression answered her. Her eyes grew wide. "Balimund… I can understand you want what is best for Skyrim, but Ulfric is not it! Trust me!"
The smith spoke before he thought. "I wouldn't expect a Breton to understand!" He immediately regretted it when he saw the look of pain etched in her features. He may as well have called her a mongrel. The dark square had taken on a molten hue, the Olaf Festival under way. The crowd cheered, except for the couple.
Her face hardened. "That's right. What do I know? I've just given up my existence for Skyrim. Everything I do, I say, I think is for this land. It is just as much my home as it is yours, Nord." She said the last word as if it left a bitter taste in her mouth. How could he say that? No…she knew that couldn't be him. It had to be Ulfric's influence.
Balimund didn't mean to hurt her, but she didn't understand. Ulfric was going to right the wrongs put upon Skyrim. "This land was once for the Nords, and must be again! We have lost so much to the Empire, sacrificed in the name of the Thalmor."
"Yes, exactly! Ulfric is only going to weaken this country and make it ripe for their picking. All he sees is that throne, and a pure Skyrim. But what of the others who call it home? What happens to them? … To me?" Her eyes bore into him.
Balimund hadn't considered that. It was true, Ulfric favored the Nords, but Skyrim was their home. And the High King wasn't without pity. He even let the Dark Elves live in Windhelm.
"Ulfric will remain loyal to those who are loyal, Nord or not. You'll see. He and the Dragonborn will regain the land-" He was interrupted by Alyssa's bitter laughter.
"Is that what he said? I can promise you that the Dragonborn will never join that arrogant, coniv-"
Alyssa was interrupted by an ear-piercing, blood-curdling sound. It was unlike anything Balimund had everheard before. Not so for the Breton. The crowd exclaimed, one voice clear above their noise:
"DRAGON!"