Disclaimer: What's Bethesda's is theirs, etc. Stories might not be in chronological order.
Rediscovering Family
"We have to attend dinner tonight," Revyn murmured indifferently.
"The Archimage of Winterhold has reports from the College to review and write responses to. How about you?"
"I can't claim family business affairs for a third time in a row." He sighed deeply and rolled left to press himself against his wife, sighing again, but this time with happy contentment. Always so hot. Sweet fire. She stretched and drew his right arm across her body, setting his hand low on her hip. Her left arm snaked around the back of his head and pulled him in for a deep kiss.
"Let me guess. Ulfric has correctly suspected that you've been neglecting your duties because he's heard your wife arrived in town just as you returned to Whiterun as ordered."
"'Suspected?' You made sure he knew exactly where I'd be. I think Serana enjoyed herself a little too much flirting with me in public while masquerading as you in your armor while you watched, Archimage Dragonborn."
"Only because you flirt so nicely back, husband. She says you remind her of when she was young and before she became a vampire. But I'll get her to impersonate me as the Archimage tonight. At least having to sit through a feast without eating or drinking won't bother her too much. And then I can be with you and we can try to scandalize people by continuing to flirt throughout dinner."
"Ah. I don't know if that . . ." He looked into her half-closed eyes and mischief-puckered mouth with upturned corners. "Oblivion take it," he sighed and bowed his head to suck in her lips.
+—+—+—+—+—+
"Nepos, sera, welcome to Honningbrew Meadery. A true pleasure to see you again. And welcome, seras," Revyn said, looking at the two women following Nepos — a young noblewoman of fair complexion, walnut brown hair with sun-gold streaks, and vivid green eyes, and then a slightly older young lady with lovely warm brown skin, golden eyes, and long ebony hair done in thin braids laden with rainbow glass beads. "And, Vorstag, welcome also." The mercenary grinned in reply. "Come, we can have more privacy in the back tasting room. Lunch will be served there, and I hope that you don't mind that I've invited two others to join us — the owner of this fine establishment and her sister. Cousins of my wife."
Servers deftly cleared the way for them through the crowded front room of the brewery. Vorstag, however, indicated that he'd stay out with the general crowd.
He waved them to the table and chairs at the center of the room. "Anything to drink? There is also teas and juices if you would prefer."
"I would like a light ale," said Nepos. "But first, let me introduce my companions properly to you. Revyn, my cousin Elyzabyth Ashcroft of Jehanna in High Rock. And this is Ishtar Gunsari, family by marriage, who is acting as chaperone until Elyzabyth reaches her destination of the College of Winterhold. Cousins, this is Revyn Sadri, the husband of Thane Helsette Faro."
"A pleasure, ladies." Sadri bowed respectfully. "Sera Elyzabyth, I recall Nepos mentioning your ambition to learn Restoration at Winterhold. Such a long way. I hope you will not be disappointed. Sera Ishtar," he paused, studying her intently, "the name 'Gunsari' is . . . familiar. Are you of the Gunsari wine merchants in Sentinel? Is the name Martina Felix known to you?"
"My mother!" The woman grinned in delight.
"Aunt Ishtar, we are so fortunate!" declared Elyzabyth. "Your suspicion that Thane Faro is your cousin is correct."
"Aunt Martina's daughter?" said Amalie who had entered the room with her sister.
"Cousin Ishtar!" said Lyrca. They rushed forward eagerly. "I'm Lyrca and this is Amalie. Our father is your Uncle Horace."
Revyn and Nepos retreated to the small bar where Nepos sat on one of the high chairs and Revyn moved behind the bar to set out glasses and various sweet liqueurs and began heating a small pot of water for tea. "I think somewhere there are laughing gods," Nepos said cryptically while sipping at the ale Revyn had poured him. "Ishtar married Elyzabyth's Uncle Nelson, who liked to spend time in Sentinel during the great food and wine festival held there every summer. Nelson is the youngest of his generation and only 10 years older than his niece. Nelson had dined many times in the Gunsari restaurant. Eventually, as you see, he courted and married Ishtar."
"Did he not come on this trip?"
"My understanding is that there was some court function in Jehenna that he could not get away from. Also, he finds Skyrim cuisine bland and uninspired."
Revyn served drinks to the ladies. "I think my wife and Cousin Nicky should be here. I'll just run over to Jorrvaskr shall I?"
"Oh, definitely. Ah, Nepos, sir, come talk with us," said Amalie, smiling widely at the Reachman and latching onto his arm. Nepos gave Revyn an unreadable look as he was drawn into the circle of women.
Revyn went out to the back stable to borrow Amalie's horse. Today's bodyguard was a young Indoril spellsword who ran easily alongside the horse. At Jorrvaskr he found Nicky sparring with Farkas, sword and shield to greataxe. Helsette was part of a group of young Companions learning Morrowind spear fighting techniques from Commander Mor. Helsette acted as his second since she did have good spear skills, but nowhere near Mor's level.
She and Mor did a demonstration of a technique. Revyn was alarmed to see her stagger and collapse on her bottom as she blocked Mor's strike. Mor sent her to sit under the covered porch to rest. "Love, are you all right?" Revyn asked, sitting beside her and presenting her a cup of water.
"I'm fine. Just haven't been eating much because of a queasy stomach," she said. Revyn frowned. He had noticed her appetite was unusually light.
"Have you seen a healer?" She rolled her eyes and dismissed the question with a sigh. Revyn echoed her sigh and fetched her another cup of water.
"So what brings you here, dear?" she asked. "I know Nepos arrived with his cousin and they were going to have lunch with you at Honningbrew."
"Oh, he's there. But I had to come fetch you and Nicky. His cousin's chaperone is the wife of her youngest uncle. It's your Cousin Ishtar Gunsari, Martina Felix's daughter."
She stared at him, astonished, then turned her head and bellowed, "Nicky! Farkas! We're leaving now! We've got a Gunsari cousin to meet!"
Back to Honningbrew. Vilkas came along with his brother. The Jergensons were still getting used to the idea of being part of a large family that weren't the Companions. The cousins and ladies chattered, the brother observed, bemused, and Revyn and Nepos discussed the latest inside gossip at Markarth's court and between the Forsworn tribes.
"The Felixes will be very happy. They worry for Sera Martina because letters from her are rare," said Revyn. "But you remark earlier that the gods may be laughing. What would they find laughable about a family rediscovering itself?"
"Well, perhaps the new goddess you found us is laughing," Nepos replied. "As you say, we are a family rediscovering itself.
"The original Karthwasten used to be a bit further north and was a major trade center during the Second and early Third Eras. It's last ruler was Duke Alarke. Elyzabyth and I share his blood. Her family line in Lady Alanna went north to High Rock when she was politically wed to King Bedyctor of Jehenna. Karthwasten was destroyed during the invading tides of Nords and the Empire. The Karthwasten you see now was a business outpost to mine silver. Ainethach's line also descends from Alarke. Youngest son sent to manage what was to be a secondary trade post for silver. They've held their ground against near impossible odds."
"My impression is that Ainethach was unaware of this kinship," said Revyn.
"He has been until recently. My grandfather thought it best we let relations with that line of the family sink into obscurity — for their safety's sake. We were inclined to more active, militant action and they had a town and a resource to protect. We've watched and helped as we could. I did my part in keeping most of the Silver Bloods' schemes off them. I have enjoyed getting to know Ainethach and his children better.
"It may amuse you to know that for his family's long-standing loyalty to the Reach, for the ancient connections, Madanach is going to grant him full claim, in the eyes of the Forsworn, to Karthwasten, along with a title of nobility. Ainethach isn't sure he wants the headaches that come along with the title, but my king has made it clear he doesn't have a say in the matter."
Revyn found himself chuckling. "I will send him my condolences. Has he been granted a new name? I might suggest 'Argeneau' or 'Argentus' perhaps."
Nepos also laughed. "You would have them the new 'Silver' blood then? I favor Argeneau for the fact that we share ancient ancestors with the Breton stock.
"And that reminds me that I should speak to Elyzabyth more about Ainethach and Karthwasten. Encourage some letter writing since I think it will be possibly years before she returns from Winterhold to go home to High Rock."
"Well, yes. But she could always take a few weeks of vacation to visit here," said Revyn. "It's not cheap, but she's hardly a poor, struggling student."
Nepos changed the subject. "And speaking of travel, do you think you may return to the Reach soon? Igmund has been dragging his feet despite Thane Icewind's encouragement to take a Reach bride. He uses your name as an excuse to delay. The Thalmor have also been slow to remove themselves. We are hoping your wife would also be able to return to assist in hastening their exit."
"At the moment I am afraid I cannot plan for a return in the near future. Many projects were delayed during the time I was in the Reach and I cannot leave them just yet. But, be assured, I have not forgotten. As for my wife, it is best you talk to her. I invite you to send any confidential letters to me or my wife through Argis. His reports are picked up by a private courier on a regular schedule. "
Revyn glanced over to the oil-lamp clock. He stood and clapped his hands. "Pardon, sers, but those of us who must attend dinner tonight at Dragonsreach need to leave to prepare ourselves."
+—+—+—+—+—+
He'd never before had the pleasure of attending a court function with his wife beside him. Not even on their wedding day had she bothered with formal dress, just colorful sashes on a cleaned up, wax-polished armor. She was striking tonight in rose-colored silk reminiscent of Old Resdayn dress fashion that showed off more flesh than was currently fashionable. Impractical for Skyrim temperature, but the inside of Dragonsreach, even on the Great Porch, was crowded with people and thus on the hot and humid side. Her long, black hair was oiled and brushed to a high gloss. And for a change she only had an ornamental knife on her hip (if anyone could call Keening "ornamental"). And Revyn had his own new court costume made by tailors in the Gray Quarter. A costume fit for an Imperial Court display. He was mildly embarrassed by its pretentiousness because it was more fitting the Father of a wealthy House than a merchant-class commoner, even if he was a rich merchant. His right ear twinged from the unfamiliar weight of rings that his wife had gifted him. Four rings of braided tri-colored gold wires. Three small loops piercing from ear-tip, two going midway down, and the final, largest loop in the lobe. All the rings of each set were connected with the finest silver chain he'd ever seen. His wife had commissioned it from Madesi in Riften and, as usual, she couldn't help but add her own magic to the gift. A nice little poison resistance protection.
General mingling and dancing was up on the Great Porch. The great cavern of space that was the crown of the entirety of Dragonsreach could easily accommodate a half dozen Dragons.
And the hidden jaws of Dragonsreach. One had to be blind to miss the great spools with great chains, the iron thicker than his forearm, rising to the massive yoke hanging overhead in the shadows of the high ceiling above the suspended lights. Directly below, he could see the wood flooring was different than the rest, a thin veneer over the lower jaws of the trap.
Revyn liked dancing, but for all the time he'd been in Skyrim, he was still unfamiliar with most of this country's dances except for the really simple ones. His wife knew more and she had no problem throwing him to where she needed him to be in the dance sets. All he had to do was make sure he kept his feet under him.
Obligatory mingling. Arm in arm, he and his wife visited each jarl. Igmund wanted to know how the wife hunt was going. Idgrod was concerned about her son's growing power that was becoming more than she could handle. Laila wanted to borrow the Gray Quarter magistrate to train someone to handle the dark elf justice issues in the Rift and also wanted someone to mediate clashes between the Reclamations and Talos priests. Balgruuf wanted the Moot over with because his treasury was exhausted from hosting this obscenely expensive affair. The Emperor had granted release from Imperial taxes for the next five years and Haafingar and Morthal had helped by paying for the extra security measures, but immediate finances were bad. Skaal wanted . . . and so on.
"You have more demands than would the abolished throne of the High King," observed Ulfric with a faint, mocking smile. "How much more can you take on?"
"I confess, my Jarl, I'm already over my head."
"Hm. And you, lady, think you to finally accept an appointment to be a thane of Eastmarch?" he asked, gazing at Helsette.
She only smiled and shook her head. "I have enough titles. Ask my husband if he wants one."
"No," Revyn said bluntly, shaking his head. "Steward of Windhelm is more than enough. Being named your husband is the greatest title I could ever have," he added, gazing adoringly at her. Ulfric rolled his eyes, snorted, and wandered away for more serious and palatable company.
She kissed his nose. "You're silly. Let's go over to the balcony. It's feeling too hot and stuffy here." They nudged themselves into a spot on the railing.
"Skuldafen is somewhere there," said Revyn, looking towards the Velothi mountains.
"What's a 'Skuldafen?'"
"During the Ebonheart years, it was a place safe from the Akaviri and where the leaders of the Pact would meet and plan their strategies. When Delphine captured me, it was to take me to appease the ghosts guarding an intact gateway shrine hidden in a secret Ebonheart supply depot. Magister Sorayn had his friends delve into Temple records for me and they found many references to that ancient place. It was built by the Dragoncult and was the largest of the Dragon temples and dedicated to Alduin. It's interesting reading — when I have the time for it — the Ebonheart war council records." He stopped, feeling Helsette sway and wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
"What's wrong, love?"
"I'm fine."
"Either I'm boring you unconscious with my chatter or you're truly ill. I've noticed you aren't eating as much as you should and you've been oddly clumsy at times."
"I catch these annoying colds all the time on the road, dear. Stop fussing. At least with this one it's just an upset tummy and not a plugged nose and hacking cough. And I am an apprentice-level healer."
"Yes, beloved. And I hear healers are the worst patients."
Dinner was announced. They took their places at Ulfric's table. Thane Icewind took the absent General Galmar's place at Ulfric's right and Revyn ceded the left-hand place, which would have been Thane Gilder's, to Helsette. It was a calculated appeasement to the Windhelm faction since Helsette had too often been sitting with the Emperor during breakfasts and lunches.
He watched her and saw she only took token bites of food from each course. Her hand shook faintly as she lifted her wine goblet to her lips. A few sips then the goblet slipped from her fingers, splashing across the table. He reached for her but she twisted sharply away —
— and spewed all over Ulfric's lap.
