Inigo jumped as she banged back into his inn room, face ashen. "Get your things. We're leaving, now."
"Alright," he replied, frowning but not asking any questions. Ysmir was just as glad, for she was in no state to answer them. She moved to Sofie and Runa's room and began packing their things for them, shushing them when they asked what was wrong.
At the moment, everything was wrong. Her mind reeled, going over and over what had just happened, like a Dwemer Sphere Guardian stuck on a track.
"What? You…" Ysmir looked up from the Amulet, wanting nothing more than to throw it at him.
"Marry me," he said, clutching tightly to her hand. His were uncomfortably warm, and a little clammy. His eyes were unnaturally white and shiny, as if he had recently drank skooma, and he was so close she could see the Crest of Falkreath carved into the emerald of his circlet. "You're well-liked, respected; you're a hero. My people love you much more than they dislike me."
She scowled, offended and furious, "That's your solution? Marry the Dragonborn and expect people to suddenly revise their opinion of you?"
He shrugged, "I have to marry sometime. And if the Dragonborn herself thinks I'm worthy enough to wed, it will certainly stop the grumbles for a while."
"Well, sorry to disappoint you, Siddgeir, but I have no intention of getting married, ever. Good luck with your popularity problems," she said, ripping her hand from his and turning to go.
"I saw your cat servant in town earlier," he said casually, bringing her to a grinding halt as she turned to look at him, wondering where he was going with this. "Those two girls with him are yours, am I correct? Part of your little orphan collection?"
She gritted her teeth, turning to glare at him as he returned calmly to his seat. If the whiteness of his knuckles was any indication, his calm was as fake as hers. "What about it?"
"The older one—Runa, I believe?—just turned thirteen, did she not?" he asked, showing all his teeth. "A very pretty thirteen, at that. Did you know, while sixteen may be the age of consent in Skyrim, children can be engaged from thirteen?" he lounged back in his chair, examining the Amulet she had left in his hand when she pulled away. "There are some very old laws in Skyrim, you know, ones that go so far back they're hard to change just on that basis alone, no matter how the world has changed. You know which one I find interesting? A Jarl, during wartime, can choose any bride he likes, no matter what her family's allegiances may be. I can't force the Dragonborn to marry me, but her pretty, young, Nord daughter? Just as good, in my opinion." He paused, "Maybe better. There are a few people who look down on a woman who has had more than her husband in her bed."
"Are you blackmailing me?" she asked incredulously.
He waved his hand as if batting away an annoying insect, "Nothing so crass. I'm just letting you know that I have other options, should you choose to reject my offer. I'll give you some time to consider. Come see me in…oh, a day or so."
Ysmir turned and moved quickly out of the longhouse, listing all the reasons in her head that killing a Jarl is a bad idea, even for her. Aedra and Daedra, but this kingdom had enough anarchy without her blatantly butchering a jarl. Even if he was trying to blackmail her. Even if he proposed for political gain.
Even if he couldn't hide the fact that—though her refusal insulted him—he would much rather be married to her daughter. She realized with a growing sense of nausea that she hadn't seen that interested look in his eyes for a long time. Not since she was about seventeen—a very slight seventeen, at that. A very diffident, meek seventeen, unsure of herself around those in power and still frightened silly the Thalmor were going to find out who she was, and terrified that somehow, every noble of the nine races would know instantly that she had run from them. Which had he reacted to; the youth, the meekness, or the fear?
Or, was it possible she was just reading too much into this, as she was back then? Could she really take the chance that she was?
She barely remembered getting home, only telling everyone to pack their things, they were all going on a trip. She just hadn't worked out where, yet.
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"That…that bastard!" Lydia growled in an uncharacteristic burst of temper, banging her fist on the table. "Where did he even find such a law?"
"If there is one," Farkas growled. Vilkas had removed himself from the table without a word when she told them what had happened, though not what she suspected. They were going to be appalled enough already; she didn't trust them not to go Jarl-hunting if she so much as hinted of her secret fear.
"There is," Serana replied glumly, her eyes burning like embers in her pale face. "But it was created to force a truce with recalcitrant clans through marriage binds—not so that he could take advantage of girls barely out of childhood!" The vampire glared at the fire as if she could summon Siddgeir amongst the flames. It was the only light in the room at the moment, throwing flickering, uncertain shadows around the dining hall. The bottles of mead and ale made long shadows across the table, complimented by Ysmir's favored brandy and Lydia's Alto Wine.
"As much as I hate running," Argis put in, rolling the cork from his bottle between two fingers, "I think it's the only option at this point, temporarily anyway. If he's really being pressured to marry, then he can't just wait around until you turn up again. You have other homes, Ysmir. Take the children and go to them until news of a wedding reaches you."
"It will also make it harder for the Dark Brotherhood to find you, should they decide to try again," Lydia said, calming down. Ysmir noticed her glass was much emptier than it had been.
"In that case," Serana said, propping her chin on her hands, "you should go to all of them. Split up, so that even if he hears that the Dragonborn's family has moved in somewhere and sends someone to take Runa or you back to Falkreath kicking and screaming, they may not find you."
Ysmir sighed, "Not the houses—they're too vulnerable." She turned to Farkas, "Think the Companions could take Runa and Aventus for a while?"
"No problem," he said, grinning hugely. "Should give the new recruits some stiff competition."
"Fort Dawnguard should be safe enough," Lydia put in. "I can take two of them there."
"Perhaps we should decide who goes where in the morning," Argis suggested, watching Ysmir yawn hugely. "We'll sleep on it, and let the children decide who they want to be paired up with."
Ysmir blinked, then nodded. "Good idea. They'll be a lot less trouble if they feel they have at least some choice in the matter."
That decided, the group broke up, heading for their respective beds. Farkas steered Ysmir right back around when she wanted to go upstairs, leading her resolutely toward the bathing room, saying she "looked like death," and needed a good soak and a back rub.
Serana watched that with a little smile, then frowned. No one had told Vilkas what they had decided, but everyone was so discombobulated she wasn't really surprised. Rising, she headed out into the night, pausing to gaze up at the blue-green threads of light that danced across the stars. Her gaze moved to the trees and she shivered, imagining the Dark Brotherhood Argonian watching her from the undergrowth. She wondered briefly how many decades would pass before that image left her.
Vilkas wasn't hard to find. He was muttering to himself and pacing, not bothering to stay quiet. She didn't think to make noise, and he whirled, pinning her against a tree with his fist pulled back. There was a pause between when he recognized her and when he released her, though, that she wasn't sure what to make of. Divines, but werewolves were so warm! she thought a bit jealously as he pulled back, the cold air rushing in to where he had been.
"You shouldn't sneak up on a man like that," he finally said after gazing at her for a few moments.
"We've decided to split up," she told him without preamble. "I imagine we'll be two children with two adults. We'll ask the children who they want to be paired with in the morning."
"'We'?" he snorted rudely, returning to his pacing. "Where do you fit in all this? The little bloodsucker is gone; shouldn't you be on your way back to your castle?"
Serana put her hands on her hips. "Excuse me, wolf man, but I have just as much right to be here as you. Ysmir is my friend, and I promised to help her. Just because Babette is gone does not mean I don't care what happens to anyone else. I care about those children, and Ysmir, and Lydia, and everyone else here. Even you, you overgrown, crotchety mutt!"
Vilkas ground to a halt in his pacing, jaw dropping just a little as he examined her pale, scowling face by the light of Masser. She took a deep breath, hands falling to her sides. "Now, I'm going to bed. I suggest you do the same. Sounds like we'll have a big day tomorrow, and the last thing we need is you being grouchy to everyone. Good night." With that, she pivoted on her heel and strode back toward the manor.
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"I don't like carriages," Darva complained, rubbing her bottom. A splinter had lodged its way in there within the first hour of the ride, and they'd had to pull over and hide behind some bushes while Ysmir pulled it out. Blaise had laughed until Runa had punched him. Runa was more uptight than just about anybody, which was odd, to say the least. She had been sitting next to the door last night with her ear pressed to the crack, so Darva thought it had something to do with that.
Ysmir looked around, then glanced at the twins, who nodded. Finally, she dismounted Jughead, the other adults following suit, and led the whole group, wagon and all, over to a clearing. "All right, everyone, here's what's going on," she said, instantly getting everyone's attention. "We needed to get away from the house for a while, for various reasons, mostly boiling down to this; it's not safe there right now. So for a few weeks we're going to go our separate ways. Do any of you have a preference which of us you go with?"
The children looked at each other. Even Aventus looked surprised. Runa only looked glum.
"All right, then," Ysmir sighed when no one really said anything. "The Papas will be going back to Jorrvaskr. If you want to go with them, line up. Lydia will be going to Fort Dawnguard. If you want to go with her, line up over there. Darva, Argis is going to be taking you up to High Hrothgar."
"I don't want to go!" she cried, dismayed at being singled out. "High Rothgi is boring! It's cold and lonely and there won't be anyone to play with!"
"I'll go," Alesan volunteered before Ysmir could snap at her youngest. She looked up in surprise, wondering where this had come from. "I don't mind the cold, or hard work."
But Ysmir was shaking her head. "They're very particular about who they allow in their monastery, Alesan. They'll probably send Argis back down after he's dropped off Darva."
The Redguard boy took a deep breath and walked away from the group. He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths, thinking desperately about what it had felt like to be forced from the boat with his sick father, left in Dawnstar to rot; about the feeling of a large rock budging before him as the surprised Papas praised his strength. About how he was determined that he not spend the rest of his days being pushed around, obligated to fight because no one would leave each other alone.
"Fus!" he cried, and to everyone's astonishment (not in the least Alesan's), a wave of force shook the trees before him. It was a small, weak thu'um—undeveloped—but a thu'um nonetheless. Ysmir felt as if her jaw would unhinge, it was dangling so low. Darva squealed and capered with glee, clapping her hands. He turned back to them with a proud smile, and she wondered if this was the first time he'd actually managed it. "Darva showed me. I've been working on it for weeks." His voice sounded like he had been screaming in cold air for an hour.
Everyone turned to look at Darva, who flushed. "I'm sure he would have gotten it eventually on his own," she demurred.
Blaise pouted. "Why didn't you show anyone else? Why didn't you show me?"
"Because you locked my doll in the house safe, that's why," she informed him primly.
That brought a smile back to their mother's face, and she pulled Alesan into a hug, handing him her waterskin. "That's amazing, Alesan. I wish you had told me that you wanted to learn."
He shrugged. "You've been busy. I didn't want to waste your time unless I knew I could do it," he muttered, looking pleased. "Send me to High Hrothgar. I'll study with the Greybeards and keep an eye on Darva for you."
Bending, she kissed his fuzzy black curls. "Thank you, Alesan. They'll be lucky to have you as their student."
"I hope they feel that way," he muttered, heading back to the group.
Blaise punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked gruffly, looking a little hurt.
"Do you know how much sitting around I had to do, thinking about pushing?" Alesan asked with a roll of his eyes. "You can barely sit still long enough to eat dinner."
It was Runa's turn to rise, this time striding to her mother and grabbing her wrist as she went by, leading her down the road a ways to get some privacy. "I want to go with you," she declared, eyes shining furiously. "I know why we're leaving—it's because Jarl Siddgeir wants to marry me to get back at you for rejecting him."
Ysmir frowned down at the girl, "Were you eavesdropping?" she asked sternly, then sighed when Runa's expression didn't waver in the least. "Our having to leave is not your fault, Runa."
"I know it isn't, but I can't help but feel responsible," she admitted, running her fingers through her long blond hair. Ysmir suppressed a twang at how grown up she looked, and how stressed. Wait…were those studs in the girl's ears? The thought was lost at her next words. "Just like Aventus feels responsible for introducing us all to Babette. We want to help, not be shipped off to hide like children. At Jorrvaskr they would help us train, but the Papas will still shelter us. We won't be allowed to go anywhere or do anything useful. Please, Mother, let us help. Give us something to do!" she begged, frustration plain.
Ysmir glanced back at Aventus, who was staring glumly at the ground. In all the years she'd known him she had never seen him cry, but he had been perilously close to it when she went to get him out of bed. He'd been guilty and wretched, holding her tightly and asking quietly for her forgiveness in a tone so devoid of hope she knew he hadn't expected it, because he didn't think he really deserved it after letting an assassin into their lives.
The Dragonborn sighed hugely before a thought came to her. "I won't be in Whiterun long," she said, getting her eldest's attention instantly. "I need to go speak to some friends, then when I return it will be to kidnap the Jarl's brats to take to…disciplinary camp."
Runa gave her a puzzled look, "All right…what does this have to do with Aventus and me?"
Quickly, Ysmir outlined her plan to the girl, who clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle laughter by the end of it. "I see!" she exclaimed, delighted. "So you want Aventus and me to be other bad children? Oh, I know! I ran away from home to join the Companions, so if they ever see me again, it would make sense. Aventus…well, he summoned the Dark Brotherhood—don't look at me like that, we all know it—so it's no surprise that he's there."
"I…don't want them knowing just what Aventus did," Ysmir said slowly, processing this. "We'll let him come up with his own transgressions."
"Perfect," Runa enthused, catching Ysmir in an impulsive hug. The Dragonborn noted with wistful pride that the girl was wearing her dagger hidden under her cloak. If Siddgeir was looking for a meek little maiden here, he was in for a sharp surprise. "I'll tell Aventus. Once we've gotten away from the others, of course."
"Of course," Ysmir agreed with a bittersweet smile, following her daughter to where the others waited.
Lydia looked up. "It's all decided. Sofie will go to Jorrvaskr with the twins. Blaise and Lucia have decided to go with me to Fort Dawnguard, and Inigo and Ma'Rakha are going to travel with the caravans for a bit, if they'll have them."
"Of course they'll have us," Inigo scoffed, "They're always willing to have a handsome swordsman to help out, and Ma'Rakha can learn more of Elsweyr."
Blaise was elbowing Alesan. "Sure you want to go to the Greybeards? There's armored trolls!"
"You're going to have to help me take care of Shags, Blaise!" Lucia reminded him, petting the cow trailing behind the cart by a lead rope. The bovine lowed softly and lipped at the girl's hair, leaving a large wet patch.
"Yeah, yeah," he agreed absently, attention still on Alesan. "Armored trolls!"
"Alright," Ysmir said, swallowing a lump in her throat as she looked them all over. "Now, we'll part…part ways here. If you have anything to say, say it now, because you won't be seeing each other for a few weeks."
"My Thane," Argis whispered to her as the children looked at one another, stricken. "What do you want me to do if the Greybeards do not wish for me to stay?"
She took a deep breath, holding her eyes shut tight. They seemed to be a bit more watery than normal. "Go to Jorrvaskr. If you're bored, make yourself available to Kodlak. Oh, and Argis? If they invite you to join, by no means are you to decline on my account."
"I'm your housecarl," he said stubbornly.
"You're my friend," she countered seriously. "I don't hold my friends back. If you don't want to join because you'd rather not be a Companion, that's fine. Just don't let your appointment as my housecarl stop you from doing something you really want to do." Holding his gaze a moment longer, she finally gave him a wan grin, "Besides, since when have I had an issue calling on my friends for help anyway?"
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Hi, guys and girls! Sorry about the lateness of this post: Thursday I was making pies then trekking all over the state (at least it felt like that), and then I had my first Black Friday weekend working retail. I pretty much got up at six, came home at ten thirty and fell on my face. Were it not for leftovers, I probably wouldn't have eaten, so thank God for those.
That said, I hope everyone had a Happy Thanksgiving and/or a wonderful weekend! Welcome new favorites and followers, and as always, thank you those who took the time to review! I get happy every time I see the number has changed.
Wynni: Unfortunately, no. If she had had the Wabbajack it might have happened, because changing a jarl into a mudcrab is far different than murdering them, but Sheo had already taken it back. I'll have to check out your story when I have a little more time. ^_^
Nargus: Of a sort, though you can always expect some kind of action ahead in a Skyrim story, if only because of the number of suicidal bandits on the road, and I don't just mean Old Orcs. This definitely isn't the last we've heard of Siddgeir, but Ysmir's not willing to take too many risks when it comes to the safety of her children, so they will be safe and sound before she makes any kind of decision-that is if one of her allies doesn't decide to make it for her. Muah ha ha ha!
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Next Week: The Brats of Whiterun awaken somewhere other than their nice, warm beds, and Aventus and Runa do some acting.