prologue: 4E 201
When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die. There is no middle ground.
-Cersie Lannister
George R.R. Martin's "Game Of Thrones"
High King Torygg, son of the late king Istlod, rubbed his right temple as he starred down at the members of his council, his head beginning to ache. Idly, he adjusted the heavy gold and ruby encrusted circlet that served as his crown upon his brow, hoping to ease some of the discomfort it had caused since his coronation when they had placed it upon his head.
The Imperial General- and appointed Governor of Skyrim- Tullius, ascended the staircase leading to the throne room from the reception hall below. Torygg's ancestral seat of power had been placed within an open room connected by two marble staircases on either side, with bannisters built where the walls might have been to give the high king and his council an open view of the reception room below where the rest of his subjects would gather should they come to court.
"Your Highness." Tullius adressed Torygg formally as he stood at a respectful distance, giving him a sirly bow.
"Rise, General- you may approach. What news have you brought?" He asked the older man seriously, trying for all the world to look as regal as his new status demanded of him in the presence of the Emporers appointed military Governor.
General Tullius was a man passed his prime, with short cropped dusty grey hair and tanned, leathery skin that was creased at the eyes and brow from years of dicipline and experience. Torygg knew though, that despite the mans age, he was still able bodied beneith his splendid ruby encrusted golden armor, and frequently demonstrated his prowess by participating in the rigorous training regimen he had imposed upon his legionares, besting the younger soldiers under his command regularly as he took part in the endless drilling that kept the men at their best.
"I have received word from one of my retainers in Windhelm, that Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak has called his banners and is gathering an army- He has yet to formally declare war, but the citizens whisper of rebellion, and express increasing unrest."
Torygg stroked his thick auburn vandike with his thumb and forefinger absently as he absorbed the information. "Aye," He retorted, unsurprised. "Ulfric spoke out at the moot, calling for secession from the Empire. He believes the terms of the treaty are unjust- and I would agree with him upon that." Torygg told the General boldly, shifting his position in his throne and searching the older mans steely eyes- If Tulius took offense to his opinions, he showed no sign of it.
"Never the less, he views you to be a traitor now that you have added your signature to the concordat...i would move to double the palace watch, and garrison the remaining soldiers within the prominent holds to discourage anyone who might be thinking of joining this...Rebellion." The general's features tightened as he spoke the word, and Torygg wondered if the measures Tullius saught to impose within his own keep werent also meant to keep him in line as well.
"What about security at the Castle Dour?" He asked the older man pointedly, holding his gaze unflinchingly as he did so. "Shouldnt you also fortify your own defenses in the event of an attack?"
"Castle Dour is the stronghold of the Empires Military presence in Skyrim- If the men there cant hold it, than they arnt worth the steel they weild." He retorted confidendly, not missing a beat. Torygg nodded, slightly peeved by Tullius's over confidence and blatent lack of concern for his own men. "Besides- only a fool would attempt a seige on the Capital- we are surrounded on all sides by water and treaturous mountains- and Fort Hraggstad is less than two hours ride to the north."
"Very well, do what you will." Torygg aquiesced blandly, dismissing the general with a wave of his hand. The old man gave him another stiff bow, before turning on his booted heels and marching back down the steps from the throne room and out of the castle doors below as his velvet scarlet mantle billowed out behind him.
As soon as the heavy wooden doors had slammed shut, the court errupted into a cacophony of argument as the members of his council debated the implications of Ulfric's actions, and discussed the possible ramifications the war hero's words would have should they reach the ears of the other Jarl's- If war was inevitable, they would need to double labor forces in the steel mines, and thousands of weapons and pieces of armor would need to be forged to outfit the Emporers Legion- as well as his own bannermen. His coffers were already depleated, and he loathed to think of the debt he would owe the Emperor in the event of a Civil War- one that would be faught for the Emporer's own sake.
Frustrated, Torygg rose from his seat upon the throne and excused himself wordlessly, storming from the throne room to retreat to the sanctuary of the kings courters- the grand suite once occupied by his own father and mother- where he knew his queen awaited him.
. . .
Upon entering the room he shared with his new wife, Torygg strode without pause across the floor to the balcony adjacent to their large feather bed, so he might look out over the city of Solitude- his city now- as the sun began to set on the horizon beyond the distant stone walls of Castle Dour.
The Imperial castle that housed Tullius and his legion had been built directly across the city, facing his families ancestral home- The Blue palace that now served as the seat of power within Skyrim's capital in Haalfingar hold. Doubtless it had been positioned intentionally just so, so that Skyrims own nobility would be reminded that it stood in the shadow of the great Empire.
His new crown weighed heavy upon his head as Torygg struggled internally with his own views, and what he knew was best for his kingdom- and he found that the desire to throw the damned thing was strong as he heaved a heavy sigh of exhaustion.
Elisif- his new queen- gently placed a delicate hand on his cheek as she made him look down at her where she came to quietly to stand at his side.
"What vex's my king?" She asked him in her soft, musical voice as she looked up at him with a warmth that had seemed to melt his heart each time he looked into their honeyed depths- She was known amung Skyrims aristocracy as Elisif the fair- and though she was as beautiful as the godess Dibella herself- with honey gold eyes frindged by impossibly long lashes, delicately arching eyebrows other girls preened endlessly to acheive, and soft full lips that beckoned to be kissed- it was her deeper qualities that had made him love her in the short year he had come to know her.
Torygg's father, the late king Istlod had arranged their marriage- but with his death, their marriage had been postponed till after the moot that had named him the rightful monarch- It was she- Elisif- who had been his strength and his safe haven as his advisers and officers argued around him, whispering in his ear and pressuring him to make seemingly impossible decisions- decisions he knew could have lasting impacts on his people, and would forever color their perception of him and his house.
He looked down at her with sad, tired eyes and smiled as he covered her small hand with his, holding it to his face.
"As soon as this crown was placed upon my head, it has felt as if the weight of mundus has been hefted upon my shoulders." He told her gently, letting his free hand wrap around her waist so he might pull her closer- her curves were soft against the hard muscles of his own heavily trained body, and the warmth of her brought him comfort as his thumb circled the flesh of her hip affectionately from over her silkin gown.
Elisif turned in her husbands embrace to look up at him directly, reaching up on her toes to remove the heavy gold and ruby circlet that was the object of his discomfort- The setting sun highlighted the reds within his soft auburn locks, and as she starred up into his kind green eyes, her love for him made her heart ache inside for his plight.
"Speak to me then," She beseached him softly. "Let me help you shoulder the burden."
Torygg searched the depths of those honeyed eyes as he tucked a lock of her own strawberry blonde hair behind her ear, seeing only Mara's love within them as she awaited his reply- she had no ulterior motive, no hidden ajenda or desire to twist his mind as others did- purely wishing only to sooth his internal reveree.
He kissed her then, bending down to press his lips firmly to hers, thanking the divines for gifting him with a partner so true even as he searched for the words to explain the turmoil within his mind.
"As you know, Some of the Jarls think that we should seceed from the Empire," He began, moving away from her as he re entered the sprawling sweet that served as the Kings courters. It smelled of honey suckle oil and jasmine- like her. He inhaled deeply, hoping her sweet aroma would quell his unease as he spoke.
"You mean Ulfric Stormcloak think's so." She commented derisively as she followed him in, rolling her eyes at the thought of the narcisistic Jarl of Windhelm- Ulfric had become somewhat of a fanatic after his imprisonment at the hands of the Aldmeri Dominion, and after his fathers death he had become increasingly unstable- She had even herd rumors at court that he was gathering an army to revolt against the empire, contesting her husbands own authority as High King.
Torygg ignored her comment, not sure if he was pleased or disconcerted with her knowledge of such things- the last thing he wanted was for his dear wife to worry herself over matters he himself should be in control of, when she should be thinking only about their future together and the many children they would raise.
"The people cry out in anger as their right to worship has been taken from them- but my council continues to advise against secession. The master of coin says we cannot afford it, and my Thane's are adament that we cannot win against the third Aldmeri Dominion- which i am inclined to agree- and even if i was to declare independance, the Empire's presence has been built so strong within our borders that it would be a small thing to simply retake it."
Torygg shook his head, as if trying to shake away his frustration at his own inept behavior- for he had spent nearly a month digning to make his own political views and intentions known as the sons and daughters of Skyrim protested in the streets of the capital and Ulfric called for action- whatever was said of the man, Torygg respected him for the role he played in the Great War, and couldnt help but feel dissapointed that he had earned the war hero's contempt.
"Oblivion take the master of coin and your Thane's," Elisif told him passionately as he faced away from her. " You are the High King- by divine right, your opinion is the only one that matters- not theirs, not the general's, not your stewards, and especially not Ulfric Stormcloak's."
The broad shouldered, wide chested nord king turned back to her then, smiling softly at the determined set of her jaw as she looked up at him unflinchingly from below her lashes- making her appear fierce despite her small stature as the light from the setting sun shone from behind her, bathing her in an Aetherial golden light. Much to her dispair, that smile fell away as he replied.
"Tiber septim labored hard to forge the Empire into something that would last for thousands of years...On one hand, i am loath to be the first to tear apart his legacy- but can i allow the Thalmore to corrupt my land and opress my people? Do i lead the citizens of Skyrim into a war that they cannot hope to win? Or is banning the worship of one god a small price to pay for peace?"
The people already doubted him, naming him "the puppet king" within the privacy of their own homes- was that to be his legacy?
"Am I to be remembered by the histories as the king who bowed to the Thalmor?" He asked her, desperate for an answer as he searched her eyes, closing the distance between them once more as his hands came to rest on her shoulders.
Elisif looked up at him unflinchingly, wishing for all of mundus that she had the answers he saught- but she didnt, so she settled for giving him words of encouragement, so that he might find peace to get the rest he needed to face tomorrow.
"No matter how you are remembered, know that i love you, and will stand beside you for the rest of your count of days- no matter what you decide...You will always be a hero to my eyes."
Torygg had kissed his queen then, taking her into his arms and carrying her to their bed as he had upon their wedding night, where they once more made love as the sun dipped below the horizon and gave way to the moons as they illuminated the night, bathing Solitude in pale blue light.
Elisif never felt more complete than when her husband moved inside her, and as she cried out her release, her insides tightened around his member, coaxing his own orgasm from him and filling her womb with his seed as he held her tight, groaning before letting himself fall beside her upon the feather matress.
"Divines be praised!" He exclaimed as he struggled to catch his breath and the weight of his exhaustion turned his limbs to jelly.
"No," She told him as she rolled over to place her head against his heart, so that she might fall asleep to its rythmic thumping. " Leave the divines out of our bed- here it is just you and me." She told him as she closed her eyes.
Torygg wrapped an arm around her to resume his affectionate caressing of her skin as he yawned, the other hand stroking her hair gently until his breathing became deep and even as he succumbed to sleep.
Elisif sighed then, breathing in the familiar scent of the man she loved- and in that moment, everything was perfect in her world. If she had only one desire, it would simply be to remain there in his arms for the rest of eternity.
. . .
. . .
Riften was a city situated in the southeastern corner of the hold known as "the rift", at the eastern end of the lake known as lake Honrich, surrounded by a sprawling and beautiful forest that seemed to swallow up the village despite its size- Most of the city actually spilled over the waters of Honrich, having been built upon large wooden piers, and being bisected by a large canal that served to give cargo boats access for trade- though less and less traders seemed to be coming through those days.
Due to its geography, the weather was often overcast, and the frequent rains fed the greenery around Riften, resulting in thick wonderous foliage that clung to the wooden structures in the form of thick moss and climbing vines that wound around the wooden planks and up the sides of its many wooden huts. The villages visitors often thought it to look run down and impoverished, but the locals enjoyed the closeness to nature, and saw its beauty as a blessing from the Godess Dibella- knowing full well that the city was anything but poor.
It was the 10th of suns height- merchants day- and the many merchants of Riftin rose early to set up their shops and stalls in preperation for the rush of customers they would receive for the holiday, reducing the prices of their wares by near half. For the pourer citizens of Skyrim, it was the one day of the year that finer items were priced within their budget, and they stood a chance at aquiring desired goods- but, not without struggle; crowds gathered early to rush to their favorite shops in hopes of being the first to peruse the selections, and fights had been known to break out over particular items.
On an ordinary day, Riften was alive with the hustle and bustle of provintial life- despite the dip in trade via the waterways, it still had a strong economy fueled by hard working fishermen, local merchants and prestigious mead makers, making merchants day one of Riftens most anticipated annual holidays, giving shop keepers an opportunity to clear out some of the lesser selling items in their inventories to make way for newer items of intrigue.
Idrissa, a local street rat turned nightengale, wound her way through the throng of shoppers in the market place, smiling as she made her way toward her mentor's own market stall, listening to the sound of an indignant customer protest against his prices as she approached.
" 500 septims?" She overheard a middle aged dunmer protesting rather loudly as she approached. "Thats the same price it was last week!"
"Nay- I raised the price only yesterday after having it appraised." The vendor- Brinjolf- lied smoothly, trying to appear sincere. "As it happens, its worth 1000 septims- Id have been a fool to let it go so cheap! But, since it is merchants day..."
"You-you...you robber!" The elf blustered angrilly, face turning red as a vein in his temple throbbed and he clenched his fists tightly at his sides.
"Hey- there's no need to be unpleasant." Brinjolf exclaimed, feigning a sense of indignancy. " If you dont like my prices, feel free to visit some of the other shops- they might have some goods better suited to your budget."
Huffing indigantly, the mer straightened out his worn out and sweat stained belted tunic and stomped off toward another stall, allowing Idrissa to take the place he had previously occupied before the stall, grinning broadly as she did so.
"500 septims for a ring?" She asked incredulously, raising a brow and giving her adoptive father- and mentor- a small smirk.
"The band is gold, and the sapphire is of pure quality." He told her defensively, without shame. "I must turn a profit, after all- whoever thought of this whole "merchants day" thing must have been soft in the head!"
"Come on, you and I both know you didnt pay a single septim for that ring- or a single thing you have on offer here for that matter." The items in question that were displayed so innocently upon the table had in fact been stolen, making every coin he had made off of them pure profit. Brinjolf chuckled, brown eyes sparkling with pride as she ragarded his daughter.
"Aye lass, but they dont know that." He told her, referring to the crowd of competative shoppers bustling around them as he gave her soiled work gown a critical look. " I wish you didnt feel the need to dirty your hands at the forge- We have plenty of coin, and anything you might need or want is within your ability to get..." Idrissa looked down at her worn blue gown and soot stained apron, furrowing her brows as she smoothed out the wrinkles with her dirty hands.
"Weve talked about this before- Petty theivery is beneith me now." She told him seriously, reciting the same words she had used the last time he had broached the subject. " There is a sense of accomplishment that comes with hard work, and someday i want to look about me and feel proud knowing that i earned what is mine..."
After ridding the guild of their treaturous leader, Mercer Frey, and being inducted into the old and secretive order of the Nightengales, it seemed as if the excitement and romance of the thieves guild had gone from her. She no longer took pride in fullfilling a contract, and there was little sense of accomplishment in pilfering jewels or coins from unsuspecting nobles- not after the excitement of their short lived adventure chasing down Mercer and retreiving and returning the Daedric Prince Nocturnal's skeleton key back to her shrine- It had opened her eyes to a whole new world beyond the wooden gates of Riften, and given her a thirst for adventure in the great wide...well, somewhere.
"If you wish to get your hands dirty and spend your days sweating before a forge, I'll not try to pursuade you otherwise- Im proud of you- but i wish you would see that there is more than one way to "earn"."
"Do not worry Pa," She retorted, using the affectionate paternal title she had assigned to him so long ago after he had saved her from the villages local Honor Hall Orphanage. " I wont be a Blacksmith's apprentice forever- It is just a temporary means to an end."
"I hope you are not implying that you still plan to leave Riftin- You have yet to even see your eighteenth name day. There is talk of rebellion and Dragons...If you cannot continue with the guild, than why not settle down with a nice man here at home?" Even as the words left his mouth, Binjolf could scarce believe he had spoke them himself- while it was true he loved her as his own, he had never thought of himself as a true father, but everytime she spoke of leaving he became fearful, and while he couldnt imagine a man putting his hands on her in any way, it was still a prefferable thought as apposed to imagining her being accosted by briggands on the roads of Skyrim, where he could not intervene.
"You know as well as any other that i am perfectly capable of protecting myself," She told him, trying to keep her indigation out of her tone. " So many people die in the same corners of the world where they are born, never seeing anything of the word beyond...I dont want that to be me."
"Perhapse i shouldhave thought better before buying you all of those novels when you were younger..." He muttered, feeling a sinking feeling in his gut- It was true though, he had often brought her story books when returning to the honeyside hut where they resided, after completing a contract. She had read the epic tales of The Tongues, and of the epic adventures of Ysgramor and his companions- Of the archmage Shalidor who built winterhold, the laberythian within the ruins of the ancient capital of Bromjunaar, and the mage sanctuary of Eyveah...They had ignited a hunger for adventure within her that had only grown in its intensity as she got older.
She was about to retort with something smart, but they were interrupted by a Breton woman in fine robes of green and red, embroidered in gold and trimmed with fur, who wished to peruse his wares.
"We will continue this discussion later." He told her pointedly as she stepped aside to allow the woman a better view of his inventory. Rolling her eyes and heaving a small sigh, she nodded and gave him a strained parting smile before she turned to dissapear into the throng of competative shoppers.
Feeling restless, Idrissa found herself heading toward eastern Dryside- the less crowded portion of the city toward the shoreline of lake Honrich, where the temple of the Godess, Mara, was located. Mara was the godess of love to the people of Tamriel, and it was within her temple that those who wished to marry would go to recite their vows and engage in the binding cerimony of marriage- the air seemed fresher there, smelling more of lakewater, dirt and incents rather than fish, smoke and stagnant canal water, and she inhaled it greatfully.
Starring up into the blank eyes of the moss covered godess, she shook her head discontentedly before continuing up the stone steps and entering into her inner sanctum. Inside, the temple was dark and smelled of flowers, lit only by the candles and lit sconces at the end of the center isle where the alter stood before another statue of the Aedra's likeness.
Idrissa had never truely believed in the Aedra or Daedra before her quest to return the skeleton key- but it was hard to deny their existance after being in the presence of the physical manifestation of the Prince Nocturnal herself. If Lady luck herself truely existed, then it wouldnt be a stretch to believe that the others existed as well- though she wasnt sure what exactly she was doing before the statue of Mara's likeness, as her discontent and restlessness had nothing to do with love.
"Can i help you, child?" A voice behind her asked kindly. Idrissa turned to see the local preistess regarding her with a soft expectant expression. She was the wife of the temple's main preist, a Dunmer woman named Dinya Balu. If she had not been of slight build and short stature- and very pregnant- her ashen features and blood red eyes wouldhave been unsettling to most, but for the residents of Riften, they had come to respect her genuine personality and soft spoken nature.
"I doubt it- Im not looking to get married."
Dinya stepped forward to join Idrissa before the alter as she looked up into the penceive eyes of the statue, her empathetic nature allowing her to feel the restlessness and dissatisfaction rolling off of the young woman before her.
"Mara's domain encompasses the emotions we strive the most to embrace; love, compassion and understanding- sometimes its difficult to appreciate her gifts in times of strife, but you should concider her light a beacon in the storm. Her warmth can see you through." She promised, her hands cradeling her swollen abdomen as she looked down at the child within her womb. Idrissa looked to the curiosity growing within the mer womans womb as well, wondering if that wasnt more inexplicable proof of the Gods right before her eyes- Dinya's husband, Maramal, was a Redgaurd. relationships between man and mer werent uncommon throughout Tamriel, but it was rare for such a union to yeild offspring. No doubt she had prayed relentlessly for such a miracle to occur.
"I was always told that mara didnt approve of interacial relationships." Idrissa stated, immediatly regretting it for fear that she would seem rude, rather than curious.
"no, not at all...Mara believes that the spark of union comes from inside us, not from our appearance. These lies are spun through prejuduce, and are meant to discourage relations outside our race- that is not love." She told her matter of factly, her expression gaurded.
"My apologies if my words seemed forward- i meant no offense." She told the mer shyly, face heating up as it had when she had been a child caught doing a bad deed.
"And i have taken none," She assured her with another warm smile. " Take some time to say a prayer- Lady Mara will provide you with strength and guidance in the wake of your troubles."
" How will i hear her guidance if she will not speak?"
Dinya balu seemed to concider her answer before she gave it, fixing Idrissa with a motherly expression. "Some things you hear with your ears- others, you hear with your heart." And with that, the preistess waddled off to continue her duties, leaving Idrissa to her thoughts, and allowing her the privacy she may need to pray.
And pray she did, before leaving the temple to return to the hut she shared with Brinjolf. There, she gathered her things and waited for darkness to fall before doning her nightengale armor, leaving a note for Brinjolf, and setting off into the night.
. . .