Asylum 2: Rescue

by Evil Is Relative

When he became Sheogorath after the Oblivion Crisis, Rommy assumed his family was dead. Now, thirty years after the Great War and with the Dragonborn, Telki, by his side, he finally has a chance to find the last of his descendants-and the lost Septim Heir. The only problem is infiltrating the Thalmor to get to him, and protecting Telki from the madness he can never quite contain.

26. Chapter 26

The Fringe, contrary to what most sane people might think, did not surround the Isles. It was a walled off section that kept the sane out. A massive fleshgolem guarded it, but Rommy avoided that part—partially because he didn't want Telki to see it, partially because the last time it had tried to either hug him or crush him, and he didn't want to find out which. Took after its mother, apparently.

Massive mushroom trees grew out of the winding stream that filled most of the area, almost marsh-like. He'd changed things around a bit from when he'd first seen it, but that remained the same. There were a lot taller trees, though. The rock formations were a little more stable, provided you didn't try to climb them or stand on them or paint murals of anything other than tomatoes.

There were also flowers everywhere. He blamed that part on her. There was actually one of the big ones there; he flopped them down onto it since it was unoccupied. Hilariously, the sane that wandered in didn't seem to trust them.

"Oooh, comfy. I can see why they get used as beds." Telki bounced on her petal a time or two, then her head whipped around at a familiar sounding curse. "Rommy, didn't you say this was a 'no sane person' zone?"

"More of a 'keep the sane at bay' zone," he said, tilting his head.

She grinned, "Come meet one of my favorite Stormcloaks. I've no idea how Ralof got here; let's go find out. C'mon!" Telki bounded off the petal and darted toward the sound.

"Probably found one of the portals I've been hopping through before it shut," he guessed, standing and following. "Or Sam left one open on purpose. He does that occasionally. By the time I find them, they're either mine or ready for a stiff drink." He examined the Nord dangling from his ankles a story from the ground, being alternately claimed by a Saint and a Seducer, neither one of whom could decide who got to get him down, let alone who got him afterwards. Honestly, they were spending too much time with Sanguine.

He stepped right between them and looked up into the Nord's red face. "Are you one of mine yet?" Perhaps not the best thing to ask the man, considering the conversation he'd been listening to.

"Shor's bones, I hope not!" Ralof visibly startled at seeing Telki at Rommy's elbow. "Telki! Care to help me down? I can't keep hanging around here, though the vultures here are the nicest I've seen."

The Girls turned accusing eyes on Telki. "He's one of yours, too?" the Seducer pouted, sounding very put out.

"He's not a husband, but he is a valued friend." Telki looked for the rope to lower him gently.

"Oh, that's fine then," the Saint said, turning back to the Seducer. "It's my snare."

"It's my patrol! I get him!"

"Um, girls? I'm sending him home. He has some friends waiting on him."

Rommy snickered as they turned lost-kitty eyes on the master of lost-kitty eyes. Still, they were rather good at it. He found the line and lowered Ralof slowly behind them, so they didn't notice, then went over and helped the man up. He might be a Stormcloak, but Telki seemed very fond of him.

"So, how'd you wind up here, anyhow?" Telki helped him dust himself off. The Girls would have probably taken too many privileges. Rommy would have to hold an assembly about consent and touching later. And invite Sam.

"Damn if I know. Last thing I remember, I was in Candlehearth having an ale, and this Breton handed me a mug."

Telki pinched her nose and sighed. "Was his name Sam?"

"That sounds familiar, yes, I think it was." Ralof looked at her puzzled, "How did you know?"

"Congratulations, Ralof, you survived the Daedric Prince of Debauchery, mostly. Though I'm not sure why he deposited you in the Fringes. Any idea, Rommy?"

Examining the still arguing Girls, he merely said, "A few." The rivalry between the Isles' Saints and Seducers was nowhere near as violent and catty as it once had been before his reign, but they still enjoyed bickering, and Sam enjoyed watching it. Occasionally, he'd find things they could agree on and have them focus on that. He was mad enough without having to deal with his enforcers fighting each other.

"Rommy? Care to share them?" Telki huffed at him, clasping her arms around his waist and wondering why he was beating around the bush.

He gave her a very patient look, then glanced at Ralof, then at the Girls again. "Hey, Stormcloak, how's your stamina?"

"Better than some, worse than others. Why do you ask?" Ralof was more than a little confused.

"These two ladies are arguing for the right to test it," he said bluntly.

Ralof's eyes widened to almost comical proportions. "I. Well. I'm flattered. I don't know what to say." He studied the ground at his feet, his face contorting in interesting ways for a long moment, "I don't mean to offend, but, will they let me go home after?"

The Girls perked up like a dog sensing dinner, turning identical expressions of delight at him. "Of course!" the Saint cried.

"Well, if we have to, anyway," the Seducer added, both of them marching up and weaving their arms through his, dragging him back towards the trees. They were half-chatting, half arguing about what they were going to do, and Ralof's face flickered through embarrassment and confusion.

"Make sure he gets home safe, Girls, please and thank you!" They waved identical, opposite waves with their free hands over their shoulders.

"Well, I hope he's not prudish," Rommy sighed, rubbing his head a bit. "They're about to cure him of it, otherwise."

"Honey, he's a Nord. That's like the opposite of prude," Telki scoffed. "I won't tell you what the Stormcloaks I was riding with were planning before the Impies interrupted them. Sanguine would have approved."

"No wonder he nearly signed up," the Mad God teased. "He was agonizing over whether or not to enlist for all of five minutes."

That gave Telki the giggles. "Sounds about right. Okay, which way from here?"

"We wait," he said, shrugging. "Normally, he shows up when he wants too, but I figure he'll come around, complaining, sooner or later, since he can sense when I'm in the Isles."

"Well, it works for you and Sammy, let's see if Jyggy will play along. It'd go a long way to keep me from whupping his crystal butt." Telki took a deep breath, and sang her summoning song. "Where, oh where, oh where is Jyggalag? Where, oh where, oh where is Jyggalag? Where can Jyggalag beee?" Rommy choked down laughter.

Ten minutes later, Telki was still waiting. She quit singing only three minutes ago. Now, she was pouting. "Yep, gonna whup him. I knew I shoulda brought Scourge along."

"Romulus, what is this?" a deep voice asked.

Rommy turned to look up and over his shoulder at the Daedric Prince of Order. "You didn't want to meet my fiance? I'm hurt! I thought we were friends!"

"Plus, someone said you might want to teach me a thing or two, since I'm not about to quit sticking my nose in wherever I think it's needed. So put the false surprise up already. I'm Telki, nice to meet you, Jyggy."

Jyggalag looked at her from under his crystalline helmet. "I did not wish to be seeing you so soon," he said.

"You know how she is about time tables," Rommy said, letting annoyance—at Jyggy—color his tone. "About as good with them as I am."

"No, shug, I'm worse." Telki looked about her, and found one of her flowers just right for sitting. She curled up on the bottom petal with an audible sigh of contentment. "Take a seat peoples, I have a feeling this little meeting is going to take a while." Telki shook her finger at Jyggalag, "You, I am thoroughly peeved at, and if I'm not satisfied by the end of this meeting, your plans are about to go haywire on you. Not a threat, by the by, just experience talking."

The translucent eyes regarded her for a long time before he looked down at Rommy. "Felicia was like this, was she not?"

He shrugged. "Somewhat. This part, anyhow."

"Ah," the Prince of Order said.

"Boys! Come! Sit! Get comfortables!" Telki gestured to the flowers about her.

"Not entirely sure 'comfortable' is in his vocabulary," Rommy said, falling right where he was. A mushroom cap the size of a dinner table obligingly grew right under him.

"He sticks around, he'll learn." Telki looked appraisingly at the mushroom. "You gotta teach me that."

"That is the Isles responding to his actions," Jyggalag said ponderously. "The Isles are now an extension of himself, of his power. They move with his whims, as you now know to your peril."

"Shug, how many ten septim words you gonna shove in one poor sentence? Peril, yes, I'm familiar with it. Something about having to take out Akatosh's Firstborn tends to teach one things of that nature." Telki eyed the crystal-donned Daedra. "And if you're half as good as you pretend to be, you'd already know all that, and how your kindred have fared when they ticked me off. Now, which side you decidin' you want on?"

"I have no quarrel with you, Dragonborn," Jyggalag replied. "I have too much in motion to wish to start one."

"Well, sadly, I have one with you. Namely, that whole mess with Rommy's family. For someone who claims to have Rom's best interests at heart, that was downright self-defeating. Your shenanigans placed him, the Isles, and his kin in danger. Void take it, he had to leave me in charge, and I nearly ripped the Isles in two! Did your calculations even hint at that possibility? You know what would have happened if he'd lost me in that disaster? If Tyr's life had been forfeited? As cracked as I am, I know how that would have played out. At best, you'd be back in New Sheoth. At worst, well, been nice knowin' you." Telki folded her arms and nodded sharply once in a 'take that' at the Daedric Prince of Order.

There was a long moment of silence between them. Something screeched in the distance, the sound high and long, ending in maniacal laughter. At length, Jyggalag spoke again. "There is more at work than you are aware, Dragonborn. Romulus is not the only agent of chaos in this world."

"No kidding? Pretty sure I'm one of them. Yet none of that makes it okay to leave a supposed friend twisting in the wind, or making his life harder, or asking him to sacrifice his kin for a plan, now, does it?" Telki's leg was bouncing in irritation. "You're supposed to be the smartest Daedra of them all. Surely I'm not telling you anything you didn't already know? This is the part where you share your reasonings so I don't want take Scourge to beat some sense into you. Please, enlighten me."

Another pause. Rommy hoped Jyggalag realized how much that was probably working against him. "In one of Romulus's descendants," the Prince of Order said abruptly, "lies the key to the true death of one of the darker Princes."

"Awesome. See? Sharing this kind of information is how you get me working with you, instead of against you." Telki leaned forward, "So, we have his grandbabies, and several people willing to help them train up to be all kinds of impressive. How in tarnation could leaving them in Faloniril's circus of horrors be beneficial to your end?"

"Entrapment was necessary. For there to be sympathy, there must be tragedy."

"Come again? That made absolutely no sense." Telki's hogwash detector was going haywire. "What past tragedy made me sympathetic?"

The chiseled face didn't twitch. "The tragedy was not yours to have."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Rommy growled, stormclouds gathering overhead.

Telki's face matched the gathering thunderclouds. "What he's saying, was that one of your babies was going to have to be put through hell to develop sympathy enough for his grand scheme. I call hogwash. I suffered no tragedies, and my sympathy works just fine. There's more than one way to learn it."

Lightning glinted off the facets of Jyggalag's helmet and shoulders. "It may not be enough."

Telki rubbed her temples, developing a headache. "Jyggalag, if there's one thing my life has taught me, is there's always more than one way to accomplish anything. I do mean that literally. You do not have to put one of his babies through torture to achieve your aim." Telki put her hands down and pinned the Daedric Prince with a glare. "Your end game is the death of a sodbogging Daedra. Good. I'm on board. You are not torturing one of my grandbabies to do it. Heck. I'll go grab Scourge and you can just point me at him."

"You are not powerful enough. It would take many ages for a Dragonborn to grow strong enough to render true death to a Daedra."

Telki nearly fell off her flower laughing at Jyggalag and wound up rolling onto its disc. A puff of pollen surrounded her, and she sat up, dusting the yellow flakes out of her hair. "Jyggalag, you do realize I've been doing the impossible from the moment I survived Alduin's thu'um the first time? Yeah yeah, I know you have some grand scheme. I'm telling you right now if you think torturing one of Rom's littles is integral, you'd best be making an alternate plan. It ain't happening, and you don't want me actively working against you."

"It would right an ancient wrong," he replied, deep voice still calm, but with a hint of curiosity behind it.

"By creating a new wrong? I doubt it." Telki was again giving him the 'bad daedra' look.

"Very well. Train them. Make them strong," Jyggalag nodded. "I shall explore other ways, and it may yet still work, or a new wrong shall be undertaken, and it's fury unleashed upon the world."

"Jyggy, relax already. As long as you don't mistreat Rommy and his descendants, I'm more than willing to help you. That's not a small thing, if you know me at all." Telki huffed, beginning to feel insulted. "I mean, I went and learned a calamari recipe for the next time Hermaeus steps out of line; you don't want to know what I got waitin' for Hircine."

"You plan to skin him," Jyggalag declared, having already figured that.

Telki stuck her tongue out at him and folded up on her flower, pouting."I gotta up my game. I hate bein' predictable."

"What exactly are you wanting them to do?" Rommy finally cut in, eyes narrowed in suspicion. He had leaned forward on the mushroom head while they were talking, and no longer looked relaxed in the least.

"It matters not now. In a score years, then I may tell you. Until then, it is moot."

"I hate it when you do that."

"I know." The Prince of Order turned to Telki, "Is this all you wished when you…sang…for my presence?"

"As long as you're willing to cooperate, yeppers." Telki eyed him up and down. "On the whole, you've done Romulus as much of a good turn as circumstances allowed. I want to like you for that alone, but the kiddles have to be off the bargaining table. They stay as safe as their choices allow them to be."

"You will wish to train them very well," he said after a moment of consideration.

Telki snorted. "That's a given. They're related to Rommy. Trouble's going to find them even if they hid under their beds the rest of their lives."

"You have proven resistant to the machinations of the Daedra and Aedra, but Dragonborn are meant to be forces of change. There will be much they all must face," Jyggalag warned them. "Your refusal to adhere to plans is not a trait they might share."

Telki nudged Romulus, "Did he just say I was more stubborn than a Daedra?"

"I can already tell you that you're more stubborn than a Daedra," Rommy told her with an affectionate grin. "I think you would have ended the Oblivion Crisis at Kvatch, just marching into the Gate and telling off Dagon."

"He didn't care for losing his shrine; I can tell you that much. I think those Dremora of his were made out of marshmallows."

"He's getting that look on his face like he wants to leave," Rommy said, examining the still, crystalline face.

"I want a hug, first."

"No."

"Yes, gimme." Telki reached arms out, and made grabby hands. "It is a requirement of friendship. You shall learn."

Rommy was laughing so hard the mushroom cap collapsed, deflating and puffing out a cloud of dust. Jyggalag vanished before it cleared. This only made him laugh harder.

"Hmmpft. Spoilsport. I'll get him next time."

"I can't wait to see it," he told her, wiping away a tear and falling back on the cap with another, smaller, puff of spores.

"Is that a two person mushroom? I need cuddles."

"For you? It's always a two-person anything," he said, rising upwards as the thing reinflated itself. "I've never seen him run so fast."

"See? Could have ended the Grey March right there with a hug." Telki fell into Rommy's waiting arms. "Hiya, handsome."

"Hello, gorgeous," he smiled up into her eyes, brushing her hair back from her face and wiping off a smear of pollen. "Well, you yelled at Jyggy. Feel better?"

"Some. I'll admit, some." Telki kissed him. "Feel even better now."

"I got pretty mad at him for a bit there," Rommy confessed, hand idly tracing patterns on her back. "I would give quite a few septims to know what he had intended to happen."

"Nope, we're going to turn him into a proper personality yet, and getting mad at what he had planned on happening will only hinder that." Telki gently cupped his cheek in her palm, relishing in the softness and warmth of his skin against her hand. She stroked his cheek, getting lost in those lovely golden eyes of his.

"He has a personality; aloof, arrogant, and generally irritated with everything and everyone. The Seducers miss him horribly."

"That's not a personality; that's constipation."

Laughing so hard the trees around them turned into birds and flew off in fright, Rommy hugged her for all he was worth, finally calming down enough to smile into her eyes. "He's been like that since I met him, so that would be a long-standing problem."

"Well, you Daedra never do anything by halves, so that only follows. When he's not imitating a diamond, his eyes are brown, aren't they?"

"He's never let me see," he confessed. "I don't know that he's ever once been out of his armor since he was freed. This was his realm, or the core of it. I'm not even sure where he goes now."

"Now you're making me feel guilty for teasing him. Quit it."

He gave her another warm look, opening his mouth to say something when he frowned, sitting up abruptly like he could hear something she couldn't. His face creased in concentration for a moment before he turned back to her. "We need to get back." Without further ado, he pulled her up into his arms, whisking them both to the door of the Palace of Kings, giving the guards a horrible fright until they spotted Telki. The Stormblade was well enough known for being odd that showing up in a swarm of butterflies was not panic-inducing. Rommy ignored them and wrenched the door open.

Orien was crying in the middle of the floor, holding something round and fuzzy, while Blossom and Pearl stood over him, looking vaguely guilty, and Fey rubbed her forehead while Tyr tried to calm Orien down enough to figure out what happened. Five years in the pits and he'd never seen his son cry quite so frightfully.

"Hey, what's happened?" Telki knelt down next to Orien and Tyr, trying to get a look at whatever the fuzzy was.

"Orien wanted to make friends with a horker, but it got mad at him for existing," Blossom sounded positively outraged at that. Tyr looked horrified. Fey looked like she needed to visit Sam for a drink—then again, she might not really know what a horker was yet.

"I killed it," Pearl piped up. Orien howled.

"Shhh, Orien." Telki tried to sooth the little boy. "Who's your little friend, here?"

"An, an, an ORPHAN!" Orien cried, shaking the Palace slightly. The "orphan" made a startled honking sound.

"Well, you're going to have to learn how to take proper care, if you're going to foster her."

"I don't know what to do," he sniffled, looking heartrendingly pitiful. Blossom started sniffling just looking at him, dropped down, and threw her arms around him. He snuggled his head against her. The baby horker wriggled.

"Well, firstly, quit squeezing her so hard." Telki had to hide a smile. "Secondly, let's see if her teeth have started. Nope. Okay, lots and lots of milk. Mammoth milk will do, but cow milk is too thin."

Ulfric, summoned by the commotion, turned up just in time to hear Telki's admonishment about cow milk. "Telki, where do you presume to gather mammoth milk?"

"I'm on it," Tyr said with relief at being able to do something, hurrying to the back to get his things while Fey looked up in astonishment. He glanced at Ulfric as he passed like they were sharing an inside joke. "Nothing I haven't done before, after all."

A strangled noise, highly reminiscent of stifled laughter, came from the vicinity of the stoic Jarl. Telki turned to raise an eyebrow at Tyr. "Apparently we're gonna have to compare stories sometime, bub, 'cause that sounds potentially hilarious."

"As long as the kids are asleep. Stendarr knows we don't need to give them any more ideas than they already have," he laughed, pulling on a cloak a guard handed him.

"A bit late for that," Ulfric chuckled, eyeing Orien.

By now, Fey was sitting on the floor with them, with two small children and a baby horker in her lap, staring at her husband with an increasingly cool expression. He glanced at her and laughed. "Alright, alright. I'll tell you."

"You might want to hurry," she advised. "Little ears are getting impatient." And so was she, but she didn't need to say it for him to know it.

"So when Ulfric and I were," he glanced at the other Nord, "ten, maybe? He was told he wasn't big enough to do…some stupid thing he wanted to do."

"I wasn't allowed to practice the greatsword yet," Ulfric reminded him.

"Probably because it was longer than you were tall," Tyr laughed.

"I will admit to no such indignity."

"Anyway, the children in Riften had been picking on me for being half-Dunmer, and it was annoying, and I wanted to prove myself a 'True Nord,' so I ran off to kick something's ass at about the same time Ulfric did. Hoag had taken him with to see a bandit den wiped out, and Pa had taken me north hunting. Somehow, we wound up on the same mountain between the two holds."

"'True Nords,'" There was a snort from Ulfric's corner, "words I hope never to hear again."

Tyr tilted his head inquiringly, then shook it. "I will ask about that later, I am too busy ruining our dignity now. Anyway, the giant finds Ulfric—or Ulfric challenged the giant, I'm not sure which—and I found a mammoth, and we both ended up getting our undersized butts chased into the camp, where we climbed the rockface at the back and got stuck, staring down at this angry mammoth and angrier giant, just waiting for us to come down."

"Of course the moment I disappeared, my father sent out a search party." Ulfric was hiding his face behind a large hand at this point. "They killed the mammoths and the giant, we finally climbed down, and Tyr found the one mammoth left alive, a calf. There was a scene very like what just passed with Orien in the middle of a giant's camp with all my father's guards watching. I never saw them so uncomfortable."

Fey's eyebrows were arched as she gave Tyr an amused look. "Oh, it gets better," he told her. "Pa had been looking for me. What he finally heard was me wailing my heart out, and saw a bunch of Nord soldiers. He mass paralysed the bunch."

Telki was shaking with laughter, but trying her best to stifle it. Orien probably didn't need the scratches from a startled baby horker. Now that it wasn't being half-strangled, the little thing was near drowsing in Fey's lap with Orien. Rommy had a very poignant look on his face, hearing about his son, but didn't interrupt.

"So, Pa had accidently just 'attacked' the Jarl of Windhelm, everyone was at his mercy, he stomped into the place, glared around, and discovered there was a mammoth to include in the spell. Thing knocked him right down. Spell broken. Everyone could move. And Pa had a horse-sized baby mammoth sitting right on him."

"Luckily, I figured the man under the mammoth was my new best friend's father. Red hair like that was hard to miss." Ulfric's lips twitch in amused remembrance. "Thankfully, the guards were willing to listen, since the mer in question was quite unable to move at the moment."

"And we both get trundled back to Windhelm, and all the while this baby mammoth followed us. Pa eventually moved up to Windhelm so that I had a few more people around, and Betsy let us ride her and comb her and chased off wolf packs going for the stables for almost a decade before they finally made us drive her off." He winced, "I…did not have the funds to replace all the food she stole out of the stable loft. No way to keep that trunk out, either."

"So you are going to go retrieve your mammoth friend from around thirty, thiry-five years ago, hope she remembers you, and hope she has milk?" Fey asked, making sure she understood that correctly.

Tyr walked over and tilted her chin up, giving her a very light, teasing kiss. "I swear this won't seem quite so insane when you're more used to Skyrim."

"Herding mammoths, adopting horkers, drinking contests that never end, this place is a bit of a shock, yes," she smiled to soften her words. She was enjoying seeing him in his element, really, even if it made no sense to her. He seemed so much more alive now, and her heart soared every time she saw him smile like that.

"Anyone needs me, Rommy can probably find me," he said, heading out.

"How did you know?" Rommy drawled.

"Just a guess." He paused at the door, one hand on it, "Weren't you coming?" he asked his old friend, quite as if the man wasn't High King and should be expected to run out after colossal livestock.

"Of course. Someone has to watch your back for disgruntled giants."

"The giant was your problem, not mine," Tyr reminded him as the door shut.

Fey watched the door for a long moment after it swung shut behind them. "What have I gotten myself into?" she asked quietly.

"Momma, what do I do with a horker?" Orien asked, looking up at her hopefully.

Fey's eyes were very confused as they raised to look at Telki, wordlessly beseeching her to help, since she still wasn't entirely sure what a horker was, other than some kind of fat, honking thing that her little boy wouldn't unwind from enough to let her see properly. "Telki," she managed, "What does one do with a horker?"

Telki studied the stumpy little thing. "I think this one is becoming a pet, so normal horker rules won't necessarily apply. Grown horkers swim a lot, and they eat their weight in fish." Telki shook a sad head at Orien. "I see lots and lots of baths in your future, my condolences."

"Baths?" he perked up. He had been introduced to the concept of being partially submerged in warm water filled with bubbles the day before. He had enjoyed it immensely. Ulfric's cleaning staff less so, but they admitted that it was much easier to clean the walls when what was splashed all over them was soapy water.

"Her skin is going to need lots of moisture and probably oiling. She's going to be a lot of work to care for."

"I can do it!" Orien volunteered enthusiastically. Pearl sighed and started puzzling through the nuances of moisture spells. Blossom wrinkled her nose at the horker's whiskery face. The horker was finally warm and had dozed off. Fey was going through her calming exercises, having just realized that she not only had adventurous littles to look after in this strange land, but a husband just as likely to get into shenanigans. That is, if he wasn't the one leading the children into shenanigans in the first place.

Gideon meandered into the room, taking in the horker pup and everyone else, his shoulders visibly slumping. Telki immediately got up and jogged to his side. "Gideon, what's the matter?" She wrapped him in a supportive hug, squeezing lightly.

"Has anyone seen Shell?"

"This morning," Blossom said, glancing up. She began fishing in her multiple layers of tunics and coats.

"Was that the last time anyone saw her?"

Fey and Pearl exchanged glances. "I think so," Fey said, starting to sound worried.

"She gave me this," Blossom said, wrenching a folded bit of parchment from between two layers of fluff. "Said I had to not stab you when I gave it to you." She handed it to Gideon.

Gideon took the note as if he thought it might bite him, and read it through.

My dearest yahoo,

I've been doing some thinking (wonder of wonders, huh?) and decided that your heathen god must be appeased. And—yes, I'm giving this to you in writing—you were right. I don't know what else is out there. Problem is, with you around, I don't care. All I think about is you, and being with you, and I don't really want anything else. And that kind of scares me, if I'm honest. So, off I go, to discover what my options are. Rommy mentioned candlemaking, but the one in Windhelm seemed rather cranky, so I guess I'll be trying that elsewhere. Maybe somewhere warmer. Talon had a list of orphanages the Thalmor were recruiting Young Ones from. Might take those out while I'm at it, and I had a few other little errands to run. I'll be sending you people. At least some of them will have letters, but I'm honestly better at dispatches.

Sorry, mellani, but I feel that I have to do this. I hope you'll forgive me. Do me a favor and toughen Orien up a bit? And keep Blossom from becoming too much of a tyrant?

Salutations are troublesome,

Shell

Gideon hung there in the doorframe, feeling little more than a wrung out dishrag. She had left. Oh, he understood the reasoning behind it well enough, but he still missed her, wished she'd talked to him about it. Apparently, she had as much trouble thinking in his presence as he'd had in hers. So, yes, her solution made sense.

He still didn't give a good god damn for it. He missed her.

"What did she say?" Blossom asked, trying to peek over the paper. Since she was only just learning to read, it made about as much sense as chicken scratches.

"She's gone on an adventure." Finding the right words for Blossom felt like an impossible task.

"Without me?" Blossom cried, heartbreak in her violet eyes as she stared up at him.

"She wanted you to stay and help me train Orien. He's not ready to go on adventures yet."

"That's true," Blossom sniffled, wiping leaking tears on her arm. "But where did she go? Why didn't she say goodbye?"

"I'm not sure." Gideon let himself slide down the door frame, and pulled the little girl into his lap, cuddling her. This time, she let him, weeping silently as she snuggled into his frame. "She said she would keep us informed. Perhaps she didn't say goodbye because she could not tell you 'no' if you asked to go, and your brother needs you."

Blossom muttered something in Aldmeris that sounded tearfully belligerent. Suddenly, a shadow fell over them, and there was Pearl, gazing down at him with utter passivity, looking eerily like her mother about to kill someone. Gideon did not need another avenging sister.

"Here, Pearl, read it."

The girl took the note, eyebrows flying upwards like the wings of seagulls, flyaway hair drifting around her. "She left," she said simply, studying him over the top of the paper.

Gideon leaned back against the doorframe, closed his eyes, and nodded to Pearl. Blossom glanced up at him and snuggled him a little harder. Pearl tilted her head, examining him for a moment. "She'll be back," she said, holding out the paper for him to take.

Gideon kissed the top of Blossom's hair. "You're right. She will be." Gideon took a breath to collect himself. It was her choice, it was the right choice, and he was a big boy. "She still has to teach me what 'mellani' means."

"Beloved," Blossom and Pearl chorused, the elder matter-of-factly, the younger like she was wondering what her eldest sister was doing calling the big Nord that, even if he was surprisingly comfortable.

Gideon felt a familiar sting behind his eyes even as he laughed once, hiding his face in Blossom's hair to give himself a moment, leaving another gentle kiss as explanation. Just like her, admit nothing where anyone'd understand it. "If you'll all excuse me, I promised to take a turn on duty tonight." He gently set Blossom on her feet, and bowed himself out of the room. The girls exchanged glances, and Pearl shrugged and walked away, leaving her little sister staring after the big Nord.

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Gideon leaned out over the parapet, letting his thoughts ride on the Aurora dancing across Masser and Secunda. He needed the peace and quiet to get himself sorted out. Watching Blossom, practically a mini Shell, crying near broke him. His own emotions were more rattled than he expected. He knew she wasn't gone for good, but it still hit him like a sack of hammers, and Blossom's tears were the final blow. He breathed out in a long sigh, and let the wind carry it away. Any moisture on his face was nothing more than windburn.

"Feeling any better?" He wondered how long it'd take her. Telki surprised him by not jumping in the middle of it in the room. She wrapped herself around him in a bearhug. He squeezed back.

"I noticed you didn't say anything in the room." Gideon swayed gently with her, comforted by the warmth of her pressing along his side. It was soothing, and helped quiet some of the tumult. Knowing he had loved ones here wasn't the same as feeling his loved ones near.

"I wasn't needed then." Gideon gave the top of Telki's curls a startled look. Since when did she ever decide she wasn't needed?

"Oh, you're needed now?" Teasing was a good footing to be back on, something familiar and light. The answering squeeze back let him know she was on the same page.

"Am I?" That smirky look in those purple eyes was entirely too sure by half. Gideon tapped her nose.

"You don't have to be a know-it-all all the the time." Yet they watched Secunda set together from the parapets.

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The stiff wind eventually sent Telki and Gideon back inside, cutting through cloaks, fur, and Nordic resilience. They found an unexpected present waiting for them. Blossom sat on one of the benches inside, wrapped in so many furs she looked like a maid had left a pile there for cleaning, save for her little face and a few stray strands of dark red hair peeking out. The girl was obviously fighting a losing battle with sleep, but she still sat there, refusing to move, even as her eyelids fluttered closed over violet irises, only to pop open and repeat the process.

"Blossom? Are you alright?" Gideon eyed a strangely silent and amused Telki. A child was involved, and she wasn't fluttering about ordering everything. It was starting to scare him a little. The nudge to the small of his back, though, cleared up his confusion. This was, apparently, A Moment.

Blinking blurrily, she raised a hand and rubbed her eyes with her fist, trying to get the sleep out. "Giddy?" she asked softly, slightly confused with her half-awake state. It was really far too past her bedtime for her to be up, but she'd snuck out anyway.

"Aye, I'm here, sweetling." Gideon scooped her up, light despite the piles of furs and blankets.

"I know you feel bad," she said, not sugar-coating it at all. "I feel bad too, so, so, I want you to have this, and feel better!" she said, producing a paper-wrapped, slightly squished sweetroll.

"Blossom, thank you." Gideon was floored.

The girl blushed and hid her hands in the furs, bundling them up to hide her mouth and cheeks as she looked anywhere but at his face. That ended on a huge yawn, so big her jaw creaked and she had to shake her head really hard to clear it, hitting Gideon's jaw with stray locks of hair.

"Now that you have delivered your present, how about I deliver you to your bed?" Gideon surreptitiously handed the treat over to Telki, to wrap Blossom in both warm arms.

"Gideon, why don't I put this up for you, so you can tend Blossom?" Gideon nodded at her suggestion, and Telki quietly left.

"Are you going to marry Shell like Momma's marrying…Da?" She was still very unfamiliar with the concept of having a father. It was extremely odd. Even being this close to Gideon was odd. All her short life, grown males had been scary figures, to be obeyed but not to expect affection from in any form. Now, here was very cuddly Gideon, who had big arms and liked to squeeze her gently, and Tyr, who was very good with knowing when she needed a hug and who her brother doted on like he was some sort of avatar of Auriel. And of course, there was her twin, who wasn't an adult but was still a boy, and who needed so much looking after.

"If she'll let me." Gideon's long strides ate up the hallway, smoothly and quietly.

"She'll let you," Blossom yawned. "She looks so happy when you're around. Not the scary happy either, kind of soft happy."

"Soft happy is a good thing, though, isn't it?" Gideon could guess at the 'scary happy'. He was pretty sure dismantling that Thalmor when she was taking him out of the pit was a prime example. That fake grin and hard eyed look was something he never wanted to see on her face again.

The little girl nodded slightly. "Yep. Issa good thing." She yawned in the middle of the word "good."

"Would you like me to sing you a lullabye?" Gideon had elbowed open her door, thankfully not closed all the way, and was now sitting on the side of her bed. The soft sleepy sounds all around him had a soporific quality, and he was thankful her bed was easy to spot, being the only one with a snoring horker pup on it. Pearl and Orien had curled around it for warmth, since Blossom had absconded with most of the blankets.

Gideon gently deposited Blossom next to her brother, and rearranged the covers over them, including a tapestry he remembered used to hang in the hallway. Apparently, Blossom did not care for the cold. He spread the tapestry on top, and smoothed it over the slight lump she made under the covers. She was already curled around Orien, snuggling into him and blinking sleepily up at the adult.

Gideon hummed, and then sang for her. It was an old lullabye, one his own mother had sung to him, and little eyes finally closed and breath evened out to that of deep slumber.

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Hello. I'm slowly going insane. But I'm puppysitting, so there's that.

Thank you everyone who read and reviewed!

Wynni: At this point, I need a month's vacation just to catch up on things, a therapist, and possibly electroshock. Or to be a fish. That sounds restful.

The Celtic Dragon: Yay!

afeleon276: I admit to nothing. XP

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Next Week: The Boys and Telki talk about Shell's possible future with them, and Merc makes a surprising decision.