On how the settlement is laid out: the giant camp of Blizzard Rest has been cut out completely. The Weynon Stones are less snowy than in-game, and mark the center of the new settlement; most of the buildings are near the crags where Heljarchen Hall sits.
That's all! Enjoy the latest chapter, folks!
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Chapter 17:
As The Dust Settles
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26 First Seed, 4E200
Weynon Glades, Southern Pale
Cristus and Wumeek were used to being the subject of rumors. First, in their youth, the people of Riverwood had seen it odd that the large Nord boy and the runty Argonian were such good friends. Then, in the Legion, with the big Nord Quaestor rubbing shoulders with the smirking green-scaled Battlemage. No one questioned their friendship, and, later, their more intimate devotions, once they retired to Dawnstar after the war, but more than a few brows were raised and rumors muttered all the same.
In truth, they hadn't begun as friends.
Cristus met Wumeek on the shores of Riverwood. Back then, Cristus was still a snot-nosed little brat who, on account of being bigger than any other boy, made him think he was in charge. So he tried to take a shiny rock Wumeek, the fisherman's son, found in the shallows.
It wasn't the first time someone fought back against Cristus, but it was the first time he'd lost, knocked on his ass by a boy he stood head and shoulders over.
And that hadn't been the end of it, either. Cristus' Pa made his displeasure very clear to the boy; once his ass wasn't bruised, Cristus was told to apologize.
He did, then asked Wumeek to teach him how to punch like that.
Years later, they joined the Legion, Cristus because of the tales of Talos and the Red Legions all Nordic children learned, and Wumeek because he was bored with fishing and was better with swinging a sword or flicking a lightning bolt. They both weathered the Oblivion that was basic training, and were assigned to the Legions in Hammerfell.
War broke out not two years later.
Cristus didn't like remembering those horrid days. The March of Thirst, and both battles of Skaven, the second of which saw Wumeek losing his left leg at the knee, tortured for minutes by a laughing Thalmor witch before Cristus got there…
Although, while the Nord carried his dearest back to the camp and the medic, the ruddy lizard decided that was the perfect time to confess his feelings. Fair, he'd lost his leg, but Cristus had bandaged it properly!
Wumeek would never let him forget how he stumbled and spluttered, which Cristus was thankful for. There were too many awful things about that day; the bright spot – the brightest spot – would always be something he'd enjoy remembering.
Dawnstar was a good retreat from the troubles of the world; yes, it meant being far from their families, but both their Pa's didn't much appreciate them settling down with each other, thinking it'd have been proper for both men to find a nice lass. While Wumeek didn't care one way or the other (but preferred Cristus), the Nord of the pair just couldn't see women that way; it made him queasy, thinking of a lady like that.
All the same, time passed. Cristus did his level best to protect Dawnstar, as was proper for a citizen of the Empire and Skyrim, and Wumeek used his skills with glassmaking, learned in Hammerfell, to make sure there were bottles to fill with their golden mead (and make a few specialty items for Frida, not that anyone knew about that). Both men were pleased with their lot in life; they wanted for little, and that little wouldn't be missed overmuch, so long as they were together.
Then, on the evening before the 1st of Sun's Dawn, Khepri arrived in Dawnstar with her Chaurus, bringing with her the bodies of the Frostflow family.
Cristus helped dig the family's graves, and bade Wumeek not to worry overmuch. Yes, the bug control was absolutely terrifying, but… the Nord indicated the woman's eyes, the way she seemed to stare off into the distance at odd moments, or how she never went anywhere without at least one Chaurus Hunter nearby.
Wumeek quieted after that; both of them could respect a veteran, even one so terribly young, wanting a quiet life.
The following month was… entertaining was a word for it. Exciting at points – like when that damn cultist was found out, or the pirates screaming and weeping for mercy – but, on the whole, Khepri's presence in Dawnstar was more a boon than a hindrance.
Some folk thought the College arriving, and the news that came of Skitter's transformation, would see dark times for Dawnstar…
But that wasn't so.
Instead, it was a boon for the town; oh, sure, the merchant shelves and backrooms were rather sparse, once the Muster was over, but it seemed the East Empire Company had taken interest in Dawnstar again, as more supplies and packages came from Solitude ahead of schedule.
As it turned out, the ruin of Mzinchaleft was being turned into a major Dwemer dig-site, while the deeper cavern, Blackreach, was declared a site of historic significance and the primary Chaurus reserve in Skyrim. Both were drawing interest from all over Tamriel and, as Dawnstar was the nearest deep-water port and settlement to the ruin, Cristus and Wumeek realized that their sleepy little town was about to become very busy and loud.
While Cristus could handle the everyday sounds of a town, one so busy that he couldn't hear anything - his beloved talking, most importantly – didn't sit well with him. Luckily, Wumeek was there for him, as was Khepri, who'd they'd become friends with after she asked about brewing mead.
Which led to their current location, a newly-built farm on the fringes of Whiterun Hold.
Cristus finished cultivating a planting row, the last of 20, and rose with a tired sigh and mopped his brow with a belt rag; while he wasn't too out of shape, he wasn't young anymore either, and these lands were quite a bit warmer than Dawnstar. Yes, he could remember Riverwood being warmer, but it'd been… some time, since he came south.
The view, both of the modern slate-roofed farmhouse, his love seeding the rows he'd finished, and the wide open hills of Whiterun beyond… Cristus wondered why he never thought of moving down here before; then Cristus remembered the Frostbite Spiders that once lurked in the nearby crags, which Khepri was clearing out while the Jarl's work crews got started on her new home, and remembered why.
In the distance, lit by the midmorning Sun, a white building shone above the rolling hills: Dragonsreach, the palace of Whiterun, one of Skyrim's oldest and most important settlements, home to Jorrvaskr, Mead Hall of Ysgramor's Companions, the Skyforge, and Gildergreen's Sentinel, oldest Temple of Kynareth on the continent- it was said you couldn't touch a cobblestone in Whiterun without touching part of Tamriel's long and prestigious history.
And above, with a banner of cloud and snow billowing off its heights in the direction of Windhelm, Monahven, the Throat of the World, tallest mountain in Tamriel, and near its summit, barely visible at this distance, the monastery of High Hrothgar, home to the Greybeards, the Masters of the Voice.
While Cristus admired the fine view, his husband noticed, and came over to lean against his bear, "I'll miss the salt smell of Dawnstar, and the docks, but I won't miss the horker attacks, or the long winter nights."
"Aye," Cristus kissed his man's brow, wrapping an arm around Wumeek as he chuckled low in his throat. "Fields of our own, at last."
"Yes," sighed Wumeek, yellow eyes smiling at the mountains and plains. "And to think: the Legion could've settled plenty of veterans here easy enough, after."
"Mmm. Glad they didn't. Ma and Pa would've found a way to bother us," the Argonian laughed in agreement and kissed Cristus' jaw, making the large Nord blush… and he noticed someone approaching. "And here comes Khepri."
On that cold winter's eve, Khepri had entered Dawnstar looking regal, but haggard and pale, a woman wise beyond her years, a weary soldier looking for shelter.
The transformation she'd undergone was incredible.
Gone were the baggy eyes, the constant frown and sporadic empty stares. Dressed in a blue blouse and skirt, feet clad in leather boots, luxurious hair twined into a hip-length braid, and a happy smile on her lightly tanned face, few would think this woman the same who annihilated the Falmer, who was regarded – and hailed by more than a few soldiers of the Muster – as Queen of the Chaurus.
Cristus and Wumeek had more than a few conversations about which young lad of Dawnstar would be the first to work up the courage to court the beautiful lass. Both weren't surprised at all to find her bidding that Companion friend of hers farewell, not a week ago now, with an embrace and lingering kiss at her door.
Wumeek, Helga and Frida were already conspiring for their wedding day.
"Khepri!" greeted Wumeek warmly, leaving his husband's embrace to give the lass a friendly hug, "Ah, you look radiant as always."
"As do you, Wumeek." Khepri allowed with a blushing smile, waving to Cristus, "Hello, Cristus! How goes the planting?"
"Khepri," the Nord man nodded, beard twitching in a smile, "And it goes well; soil down here's much better than Dawnstar's, obviously. I'm grateful for that though. Been a long time since I've worked a field, but it's just a matter of shaking the rust off."
"Well, I'm sure there isn't too much rust, given how well Wumeek keeps you trim." they all laughed, Wumeek bashful.
Khepri sighed and, brushing stray hairs out of her eyes, looked at the area around them: an Inn, a bunkhouse/barracks for the guards, three houses – for Bori's family, some bee-handlers Khepri trained, and an EEC trading post – the Hall, and a large construction of metal and glass, a botanical garden as Khepri called it… all these had their foundations laid, the framework of each building already going up, hammers and orders filling the spring air. On the hill near the crags, the Hall's frame was nearly done. And, in the south, another nearby farm, belonging to the Loreius family, marked the midpoint between Weynon and Whiterun.
One day, it was going to be a busy settlement, full of laughter and light; Cristus couldn't wait for that day.
"The spiders giving you any trouble?" Wumeek asked with a grin, which Khepri replied to with a scoff; it was well known that all insects obeyed her, no matter the size.
"Not at all; most of them are assisting getting the last materials into place, while Skitter watches over the rest in the forest, further north," she gestured to the tree line, nearer to the western cliffs, where carts of planks and other building material were being pulled into place, "No… though, it seems we've drawn some attention from the locals."
That wiped both men's smiles away; Cristus panned his gaze across the forest while Wumeek observed, "Khepri, no one respectable lives out this way… bandits?"
She shook her head, looking northward- ah, there; a small group of people were moving unhurriedly toward the budding settlement. They seemed more curious than looking for a fight; one had a bow drawn, but held the air of being at ease, as did their fellows.
"I don't think so," reported Khepri, sounding thoughtful as her smile faded to a humored smirk, "Their gear is in better condition than your average bandit's, and they seem more concerned with examining the village than trying to rob us."
"Marauders, then," Cristus grumbled, drawing an unamused snort from his husband, "Like as not, they'll try raiding at night rather than in the day. They're like bandits," he explained to Khepri's raised eyebrow, "but with actual brains between their ears."
"Hm." she looked at the distant men and women again for a moment, then shrugged and started walking, "Well, I guess I'll go say hello to our new neighbors, then."
After exchanging a glance with his husband, Cristus followed her, garden hoe slung over one shoulder, while Wumeek limped along at a more sedate pace, no doubt preparing that dehydration spell of his, one the Thalmor learned to fear, so long ago.
When they were in earshot, one of the Marauders, an Imperial in glass half-plate, called out, "That's close enough, lest you're looking for trouble."
Cristus counted their numbers as he stopped behind Khepri, on her right: an Imperial with two Elven swords, standing in front of three Nords, one a woman, wielding bows, the two men carrying basic steel great-axes while the lady had a pair of daggers, Orcish by the look of them; further back was a Dunmer, face covered in red war paint, and an Altmer, both women, the goldskin sporting a deep scar on the left side of her face. The Altmer was armed with a spear, while the Dunmer girl shouldered a greatsword that was tall as she was. Lastly, a Redguard was half-hidden in the trees, an arrow on his bow and watching the exchange with a weather eye.
Seven Marauders, all armed and armored, and there was Cristus, in a cotton shirt and canvas slacks, armed only with a garden hoe, his husband unarmed bar his belt knife and brains… and then there was Khepri.
The lads and lasses before him had no idea how fucked they'd be, should they start something.
"And a good morning to you, too, sirs and misses." Khepri replied in a cheery voice. "May I ask what your business here is, before the guards get nervous?"
A whispered exchange later, the Imperial smiled at them, "Tyronius Cecia. The lads and I are part of a group that's in the process of plumbing a nearby barrow, Silverdrift Lair; we have contract with a client in Riften."
"Oh! Well, it's nice to meet you," and Khepri sounded honest about that, much to Cristus' hidden amusement; wouldn't do to bust a gut while the Lady of Bees showed a milk-drinker up. "I'll need to see that contract, at your convenience of course; you see, the Jarl of Dawnstar has rewarded me with this land in exchange for services rendered, and it would be rather poor of me to allow common bandits to sit on my doorstep."
That seemed to catch the Marauders off guard, all of them looking at her prosthetic and domestic bearing pointedly, as though disregarding her as a challenge. There was even a small sneer in Tyronius' voice as he replied, "Why certainly, miss… ah, I don't believe you've given your name."
"Ah, where are my manners," Skyrim's youngest Thane laughed lightly; her next words, however, held a coldness underneath her usual hospitable warmth, "I am Khepri, the Beekeeper of Dawnstar, and Thane of Skyrim. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cecia."
The lad in question was looking rather pale, his smile increasingly fixed, while his companions were suddenly on guard, shifting nervously while the forests about them became rather loud with the chittering of cicadas; the Redguard looked about to try taking a shot.
"Now, lads, we're all neighbors here, people of Skyrim all," rumbled Cristus in dark humor, garden hoe creaking in his tightening grip, "Let's not do anythin'… hasty." Behind him, there was a crack of knuckles, and a much more pointed crackle of lightning.
"O-Of course not," the Imperial found his footing, sending a glare over his shoulder to his people – they relaxed marginally – before smiling at Khepri again, "Be rather foolish, trying to fight the lady what destroyed the Falmer. Ah, and thank you for that, miss, truly," the Marauder actually bowed; wasn't a deep bow, but a show of respect nonetheless, "there was a den of the bastards not far from here, kept trying to raid us in the night."
"Yes, I know of it. Duskglow Crevice. You'll be happy to know that my Chaurus have occupied it as their new nest, so you won't be troubled in your excavations from that end," and Khepri was all smiles once more. "But, again, welcome to Weynon Glades; we don't have the inn up and running yet, but feel free to come by for a mug someday!"
"I'll be sure to let our boss know," the Imperial said, backing away with another nod, "A good day to you, Miss Khepri."
"Wait." The Altmer woman stepped forward, ignoring the protests of her companions to address the Beekeeper, "You are Khepri? Truly?"
"I am. And you are?"
"Aroliel. I was once a mercenary, out of Morrowind, before the leader of the Ghostbeards captured and held me prisoner for months."
Khepri nodded slowly, saying, "I hope your current fortunes are more to your liking."
"They are. Infinitely so." the woman's face was hard, "I only have one question for you, Khepri: did Glothun the Ghostbeard die like the rock-headed vermin he was?"
"…well, he certainly died like an idiot, if that's what you're asking. He attacked one of my Chaurus Hunters after I offered him mercy; I'm sure you can imagine how that went." Khepri huffed with a head-shake, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation.
"He deserved no less than a fool's death," the Altmer replied with surety; she bowed, "I thank you for the closure, Beekeeper. May the Gods watch over your fortunes." And she turned and left, the other Marauders continuing their retreat once she caught up with them.
Once they vanished, Wumeek remarked cheekily, "Well, at least they're smarter than that greaseball, Balthi, was." How that bastard met his end was always good for a laugh, even from Khepri, who hadn't been very pleased to know what the fucker had done, before running afoul her swarms.
"Ah, Cristus; before I let you get back to the fields," Khepri strode next to him, smiling, "the casks of mead are nearly matured enough for bottling, then taste-testing. They should be ready by week's end, but I, um, admit that I'm not very practiced…"
As Cristus gave her basic instructions, and told her who else in Dawnstar could help her, he silently thanked the Gods for sending the girl to Skyrim, sure in his heart that he wasn't the only one to do so, nor the last.
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30 First Seed 4E200
Dawnstar
Jordis, Houscarl of Solitude, had always known she would be just that: a Houscarl, her life in service to Skyrim's High King, and, eventually, a Thane.
Her life began, she was told by her tutors, in Markarth; her family had been taken by the occupying Forsworn, while Jordis herself had been found by Skyrim's forces in the den of a Hagraven, when Ulfric Stormcloak retook the city. After being confirmed clean by the Priesthood of the Eight Divines – Nine, in truth, but she wasn't supposed to say such in public – she was brought to Solitude, along with a few other children, and raised in the household of High King Torygg.
For two-and-a-half decades, this was her life: she would wake, pray, eat, preform her morning exercises, listen to her tutor's lessons, eat, train with the guards, read the books assigned to her, eat, preform her evening exercises, pray, and sleep once more.
Jordis had proven herself against all manner of foes, once she became a full Houscarl; bandits, wild beasts, draugr, daedra, and more besides. At twenty-five-years-old, the beautiful – so she was told, wearily often – blonde Nord woman was happy with her career and duties; aside from ensuring Proudspire Manor was kept clean in case a buyer turned up, most issues she was called on to deal with – usually bandits or Forsworn – underestimated her, believing her delicate appearance meant she was weak.
This usually meant her jobs were swiftly handled, a matter that pleased the High King and Queen quite a bit, which pleased Jordis, because it meant she was doing good for her king and country.
However, she disliked the other Thanes and Houscarls of the Blue Palace, mostly because they kept making uncouth offers for Jordis to join them in their bedchambers. She didn't understand; there was no need for her to debauch herself in such ways, nevermind her inexperience in those matters, and did they not have duties to attend? Trials to prepare for? Books to read? Business to conduct, that the realm might be enriched?
Sybille, the Court Wizard, often agreed with Jordis, but also implored the younger woman to stop being so prudish; again, Jordis didn't understand. She was pragmatic, not prudish. Her duties were more important than pursuing some man who'd be too distracted by her physical features, to give Jordis' emotions any attention. Better to perform her job as Houscarl, than enter into some unfulfilling relationship. She was content where she was, and if it never changed, she would not be displeased.
Yet, all things change; such was the cycle of the world, according to the teachings of Arkay.
One evening, after the Muster at Mzinchaleft was concluded – an event which sparked much celebration and revelry in the city of Solitude, which made Jordis happy; things had been so bleak and anxious, of late, what with Windhelm's dissidence – the Houscarl was practicing her swordplay in the Blue Palace's gardens when one of the King's Guardsmen beckoned to her.
She was brought to the King's suite, dressed still in her day clothes; initially, she was nervous. If the King asked her to share his bed, would it be treason to refuse the order? Yet, why would he wait until this moment, Jordis argued with herself; should he have wished for the pleasure of Jordis' body, Torygg need only have asked. He was King, after all.
Composing herself with the reminder that Torygg only ever looked upon Queen Elisif in such a way, Jordis knocked, and was bade to enter.
The High King was seated at his desk, examining multiple paper reports as the evening sun shone through the leaded glass windows; Queen Elisif was reclining upon a couch, reading Words and Philosophy, a fine book, in Jordis' professional opinion. The Queen of Skyrim favored the Houscarl with a smile and nod, which was returned as she passed.
"My King, you have summoned me?" Jordis greeted as she bent the knee, as was proper for one of her station.
"Yes. Have a seat, my Houscarl," he indicated one of the comfortable, upholstered chairs that were usually meant for honored guests; a warm smile was sent in her direction, "I have some questions for you."
"Yes, my King," replied Jordis, silently wishing she'd been ordered to stand; the chairs were far too comfortable, in her opinion, and were usually meant for nobles, not a clanless Houscarl, no matter how much prestige she'd accrued over the years.
Over the next ten minutes, she was grilled for information on several of her past adventures, some of which had happened during her apprenticeship. The incident with the Briarhearts at the Dragon Bridge Overlook was gone over with meticulous attention to detail, as was her scouting of the Forsworn fortress Hag's End, and the tussle she ended up in with a group of smugglers, near the lighthouse up the coast, two years ago.
Then Jordis was asked a question she was not prepared for.
"What are your thoughts on the Chaurus; specifically, the recent claim by Khepri the Beekeeper that they are sentient and capable of emotion and learning?" Torygg's voice remained as even and warm as she'd ever heard, despite the sheer unbelievability of the query.
It was one Jordis' training and education didn't cover; indeed, it was long accepted that Chaurus of all kinds were evil creatures that fed on the flesh of thinking beings, the foul insects utterly subservient to the Falmer.
Yet, now, the Falmer were gone, the Chaurus having rebelled, with Skyrim at their side, all because of a young girl, who the Temple had declared was Blessed by Kynareth, in Her aspect of Nature.
It was something worthy of song, of legend. Jordis found herself occasionally awed to have lived to see such history being made.
All the same, her King had asked a question of her. After thinking on it for a moment, she replied honestly.
"I know little of the Chaurus that isn't known by other protectors of the realm, my King; as such, I must defer to Thane Khepri's expertise on the matter. Indeed, it cannot be doubted that she knows more of the Chaurus than any other citizen of Skyrim. Therefore, her word on the Chaurus should be treated as that of a scholar's conclusion, after careful and meticulous research, and thus, as accepted fact."
"Eloquently put, Jordis," she thanked her King for the praise, before he continued, "Your personal opinion of Khepri, if you don't mind?"
Jordis barely needed to think of it, "I have not met her, my King, but I hear many things about her in passing. Much of the gossip is good. It is no secret she was given the Northern Star, by your grace, and is therefore Thane of Skyrim. From rumor of her kindness in Dawnstar, and factual reports of the Muster, I can say without doubt she has earned my respect, as well as my honest admiration, my King. Skyrim should be proud to host such a kind, benevolent, and determined soul."
At that last admission, she forced a blush down, knowing how it might be perceived. Jordis had no opinion, when it came to sex; male, female, neither intrigued her, beyond their skill in battle or verse. It was likely that she simply hadn't met anyone who sparked her interest.
Given who frequented the High King's court… this was understandable.
High King Torygg did not remark on Jordis' statement; instead, he glanced at his wife with an expression Jordis believed was a silent question. Then he smiled at Jordis, and, after swearing her to secrecy, revealed the true purpose of their meeting.
Thus was Houscarl Jordis sent to Dawnstar, most of her worldly possessions on her back, secret orders in her head, and a satchel containing several documents from the King for Thane Khepri, who Jordis was now subservient to.
Jordis would be lying if she said the prospect of serving the Beekeeper didn't excite her, somewhat. Thane Khepri was, by all accounts, a bachelorette; she was not known for taking men – or women – to her bed, or marching to battle, or delving ruins, instead choosing to pursue the business that earned her the title of Beekeeper. This meant that Jordis would have much to do; surely a personage such as Khepri would need a rare ingredient, or an ancient artifact hidden in a ruin, or – likely – competitors that needed to be dissuaded from bothering her.
Additionally, Jordis had rarely left Solitude in her life, only ever travelling the Reach, Hjaalmarch and Haafingar in her duties. She wondered how the frontier town of Dawnstar would differ, from the other parts of Skyrim.
Happily, it was only lightly snowing when she passed the ruin of Mzinchaleft, where some sculptors from High Rock were preparing several statues to commemorate the Muster. Jordis had seen the plans, shown to her by Elisif one day in the gardens; the central statue would be of Khepri holding an infant Chaurus, the woman's form protected by a pair of Hunters. The Houscarl wondered if the woman knew about it yet.
Further along the road, she came to the Dawn Fields, a stretch of flowers that'd sprung up not long after Khepri's arrival in Dawnstar. As she passed them, Jordis kept her guard up, due to the Spriggan Earth Mother standing near a ruined cairn, and the three lesser Spriggans that formed her retinue. Despite their proximity, families and children still played in the fields, where butterflies and bees swirled among one of the most beautiful arrangement of flowers Jordis had seen outside the Palace Gardens.
The town itself defied the description from books; rather than the smell of old sewers and mining refuse, Jordis' first scent of the town was of cooking, firing clay, and freshly cut wood. There were two guards in full-face helms, toting shields decorated with the town's Star heraldry, at the entrance; noticing her livery – she was still wearing the red and black clothes proper for a Houscarl of Solitude, underneath her steel kit, along with the Shield of Solitude on her arm – they approached and greeted her.
"Welcome to Dawnstar, traveler; cleanest beds in all of Skyrim!"
A bold claim, thought Jordis, replying professionally, "I am Jordis the Sword-Maiden, Houscarl of Skyrim."
Before she could go on, the guard who'd spoken nodded and spoke warmly, "You're expected, and a full day early, Sword-Maiden," he pointed to the far end of the bay, over the thatched-and-tile roofs, where a house… and a greenhouse, stood, "Over yonder is Khepri's home. Don't know if she's in, as she's been busy readyin' for a move to the southern Pale. She'll tell you more, I wager."
Nodding, Jordis bade the guards well, as was proper, and made her way into the town. A few suspicious glances were sent her way – Stormcloak sympathizers, no doubt – but, on the whole, most of the townsfolk were cheerful and warm in their greetings. The streets were clean, the smithy was puffing away, an East Empire vessel was being unloaded at the docks, with a Legion frigate watching over them, a pair of Chaurus Hunters were assisting at the iron mine- wait.
Jordis blinked at the two Hunters, both with scarves around their upper torsos, teaching a pair of large common Chaurus how to pull the carts of mine wasterock, all under the watchful eye of a serious-faced Nord woman.
…it wasn't the oddest thing Jordis had ever seen, but it ranked quite high on her list. She kept walking.
Khepri's home was very… homey. The scent of the greenhouse's flowers mixed with the salt of the Sea of Ghosts and the smoke of chimneys, reminding Jordis somewhat of Solitude, or the Docks below the city. A covered porch, with shutters, was the only distinction the house made from most of those around it; that, and the two signs next to the stairs, near an alley that led to the greenhouse.
The first was a standard Merchant's sign, a yellow field with bees surrounding the words, painted a pleasant blue:
Khepri's Gardens, Dawnstar
Honey Goods
Alchemical Ingredients
Landscaping
The other was square, hanging just beneath the first, seemed to be made of some kind of black material, and the words were written in a light green, clearly by hand:
The Chaurus are friendly
Do not attack or feed them
Jordis nodded in approval; her new Thane had sense, presenting a warning for any who made it to her home. Stepping onto the stairs, she found a woman sitting on the porch; they were not Khepri.
The woman was young, around Jordis' own age, and a Breton. Her hair was straight and short; not quite a pageboy cut. She seemed muscular, used to hardship, emphasized by the clothes of a miner and the quick, sharp, assessing glance she shot Jordis; yet there was a gleaming Amulet of Mara on her breast.
Around a blink, the woman asked in a decidedly Nordic accent, "You're that Houscarl from Solitude, Jordis, yeah?"
"I am," the blonde confirmed, sizing the woman up, wondering if the Breton sought to court her new Thane, "And you?"
"Liora. I'm, ah," she smiled and blushed, standing from her seat, where she'd been reading a book; a study book concerning international economics. Interesting, "I am the fiancé of Callidus, Khepri's Steward here in Dawnstar. One moment, I'll fetch him."
That explained both why she was on the porch, and the book; as she was marrying into the Thane's household, it was only proper to understand how said household worked… or, so Jordis understood. She had no plans for marriage herself.
Regardless, the Houscarl didn't have a chance to speak up before Liora opened the door and called, "Cal? That Houscarl from Solitude is here."
"Ah! Send her in, please, Li." A rather pleasant-sounding voice replied; it reminded Jordis of the Choir members at the Temple in Solitude. Most of them were Imperial, for obvious reasons.
Within the home, Jordis found a young and very handsome Imperial man rising from his seat, leaning on a cane and smiling in greeting, despite the clear pain he was in, "A pleasure to meet you, Jordis Sword-Maiden. Steward Callidus, at your service."
"Houscarl Jordis, at your service and this household's, Steward," she shook his hand, as was proper; despite his discomfort and seeming frailty, Callidus had a strong grip. "Are you well? You seem to be in a bit of pain."
"Nothing that the Temple can cure; I was struck in the back by a troll, in my youth," he smiled, despite the morose subject, "I've learned to live with it. It helps that I have a sharp mind, or, well, so Miss Khepri tells me often. Please, make yourself at home. May I offer you anything? Tea? Mead?"
"Tea, please" replied Jordis while removing her shield and pack, hoping Khepri enjoyed the imported drink as much as she did; she kept Icefeather, her Stalrhim broadsword, on her hip, as it wouldn't do to be caught unawares, should some fool make an attempt on the town. Once seated, she observed Callidus' preparations and, after debating a conversation topic with herself, remarked, "Congratulations on your engagement, Steward. I will pray to the Gods for your union to be a happy one."
"Thank you, Houscarl," the grin on his face was very bright, yet he also appeared bashful; the reason was forthcoming, "I admit, we would still be, eh, courting, were it not for Miss Khepri's insistence."
A teacup and additions were placed in front of Jordis; ignoring the sugar and cream, she placed a small pinch of honey into the tea – a Falkreath blend, if she wasn't mistaken – and inhaled the fumes, feeling the weariness of the road leave her slightly.
"Where is Thane Khepri, Steward?" she asked, after waiting for Callidus to be seated. "With her Chaurus?"
"Ah, no. She is on the Dawnsprite, the frigate you likely saw among the icebergs," he replied in that eternally patient and kind tone of his; did he ever stop smiling, or was he simply that happy to be wed? "It used to belong to the Ghostbeard pirates, before they made the mistake of attacking Dawnstar; these days, it's mostly used as a fishing boat. Miss Khepri sometimes goes aboard, to draw crab in."
Mentally filing the information, Jordis frowned, "Why do you not call her Thane? It is her title."
"Because she insists on not using that title, or any others aside from her self-imposed position as 'Beekeeper', unless she's conducting business that concerns Skyrim politics, or," Callidus' smile turned slightly sharp, "if she needs to intimidate some deserving fools. I understand there is a group of professional Marauders near the new settlement, Weynon Glades; they are excavating a tomb, on the order of a patron in Riften, but weren't above raiding the odd passing carriage, nonlethally if they could help it. Miss Khepri used her title to intimidate them into assisting the defense of the town, should she ask for it. In return, they'll be left to their archeology, as it appears their contract is legitimate."
Jordis blinked. That was… not the sort of behavior she was expecting out of the Beekeeper. Yes, she was, by all accounts, a peerless warrior, though retired, but did she really fear nothing, even the scorn that would come from working with bandits?
"I… see," Jordis eventually said, deciding to wait until she met the Beekeeper, to make any final decisions. She changed the subject, "I have several documents and missives for… Khepri, from the High King and the gentry of Solitude."
Callidus' eyes lit up with interest, "Oh? Well, let's see what we have, before she returns."
"I was instructed to deliver these papers to Thane Khepri herself." Jordis' voice was very slightly admonishing; Steward or not, who did this boy think he-
"Ah, apologies. Miss Khepri lets me look over her mail before she reads it herself, you see," explained the Steward with honest apology writ into every line of his body; he smiled, seemingly in remembrance, "Given how often the Silver-Bloods, the Jarl of Falkreath, and a certain other apiary in the Rift send her offers of marriage, land, and death threats… I make it a point to not waste my Lady's time with the absurdities of certain nobles, if you follow."
Jordis did. Wordlessly, she handed over the missives, but not the manor documentation or the High King's correspondence, explaining, "I'm afraid the King's orders were very clear: the remaining papers are for Khepri, and her alone." After a small pause, she added, "You should also probably burn Thane Erikur's letter. How the man became a Thane is a mystery to me, as his behavior… leaves much to be desired, to put it lightly."
Callidus hummed and nodded, but read the letter anyway, eyes growing wider and smile vanishing the further he read. Arriving somewhere near the middle, his left eyebrow twitched, then he looked at Jordis, "I have read quite a few repugnant and lewd offers in my time as Steward, Houscarl, but this is the first time I actually want our Lady to see what one of her… admirers… believes would be an, how did this rotter put it? Ah, 'an enjoyable experience for all involved'. I'm fairly sure she'd kill him simply for offering something so… debased."
"Erikur is… tolerated, in the High King's court, to put our liege's feelings delicately," replied Jordis with a wince, having been on the receiving end of said Thane's… flirtations… on more than one occasion. "The only reason he still has a head on his shoulders is due to his capability in business management, and that he has yet to… flirt… with High Queen Elisif."
"Is that what he calls it?" Callidus asked with a humored grimace, one Jordis couldn't help but laugh weakly at. With that, he crumpled the letter and tossed it into the fire, saying, "I'll let Miss Khepri know what the bastard wrote, once she returns."
As though summoned, the door to the house opened, allowing a black-maned green-eyed young woman, clad in a white-blue tunic and a heavy grizzly cloak, to enter; there was a dusting of snow on her hair, which was pulled into an intricate braid, the end clasped with a green coral buckle, and her right forearm was an honestly beautiful prosthetic made of white moonstone.
"Thirty-seven today, Cal. I've given Liora a few coins to buy part of the catch, so it'll be Skyrim rock lobster for dinner tonight. Also, your former manager in the EEC trading post, Effi-Tei, griped at me about advance orders again, and I may have been a bit rough in my responses, but he should really know better than to bother me at this time of the month. Remind me to apologize to him tomorrow, when my mood is calmer. There's also a small load of chitin for Rustlief and Seren near the pipe's mid-point; let Bori know to send someone to pick it up before nightfall. Houscarl Jordis Sword-Maiden, I presume?"
"Ah," she stood and haltingly came to attention, rather caught off guard by the rapid fire way in which Khepri spoke, the bland, flat gaze she fixed on the Houscarl, "I am. It's an honor to meet you-"
"Let us dispense with the pleasantries: the High King insisted on assigning me someone from Solitude to compliment my unwanted elevation to the status of Thane of Skyrim. I told him, multiple times, that I do not desire such a position, nor do I need more people in my household; not only has he ignored my protests, he indicated that his reasons for doing so would be explained by you upon your arrival. I know of you, Houscarl, and your deeds; few of them are secret, and you have built a sterling reputation for yourself among Skyrim's people, one which is known even here in Dawnstar. I find that commendable; indeed, I have no actual complaints in adding you to my retinue. Yet while I can find no fault in you, I am curious: why the hells is the High King so insistent on giving you to me? Why you?"
To say Jordis was intimidated was like saying the Sea of Ghosts was a little chilly. From her piercing green eyes and stern expression, to her slender yet certain bearing and the slight movement in her hair – wasps, the Houscarl realized – made clear that this was a woman only a fool would ever cross.
Jordis was no fool; she only needed three seconds of thought – and composing herself from Khepri's greeting statements to her – before answering.
"My loyalty to Skyrim and skill in property management and upkeep were likely the deciding factors, m… Miss Khepri," Jordis hid her wince at the breach of protocol and glanced at Callidus before continuing, "I… believe this is a conversation which should be done in private."
"Callidus is my trusted Steward; even if we have a private conversation, Shield-Maiden, he will know of what was discussed. Speak." Khepri's reply was iron in its stubbornness; despite her decidedly non-Nord features, Jordis really had to wonder if there wasn't Skyrim blood in her veins. It felt as though she was standing before a Jarl, or one of the Greybeards, such was the young woman's presence.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Jordis removed the missive from the High King and held it out for Khepri, explaining, "Our king has bid me report to one of his agents regularly, concerning all of your actions, in addition to my duties as Houscarl; this letter explains his reasoning, Miss Khepri."
Sharp green eyes flicked to the sealed letter, then back to Jordis' serene gaze, "If I dislike his reasoning, you will be dismissed back to Solitude."
"I understand. It also falls to me to inform you that, given your deeds and the decisive assistance you provided in the destruction of the Falmer, the High King and Queen of Skyrim have gifted you Proudspire Manor, a rather lovely house in Solitude, which I have looked over for much of my tenure; should you dismiss me, I will return to my duties there, until you order me further, my Thane."
Jordis felt the slightest satisfaction at the light wince on Khepri's face, before the – terribly young; the girl was likely not even twenty, now that the Houscarl looked at her properly – Beekeeper snatched the letter away, broke the seal, and read.
When she finished, there was a dark smirk on the Beekeeper's face, "You are aware of this letter's subject matter, Jordis?"
"I am, Miss Khepri." Should she apologize?
"You may stay. I will need someone to assist Houscarl Bori at Weynon Glades, once I move there, and given your talents, you will make an excellent bodyguard for my person and manor, while he deals with the guard contingent. I've heard rumor that he might be made Thane before the move; until that event comes to pass, speak to Liora. We have little room here, so you'll have to stay in one of the dockyard bunkhouses until the move. When not there, I expect you to remain nearby," she smiled at Jordis; it was… a very pleasant smile, "You wish to serve me, truly?"
"I am your Houscarl… my Thane. It is my duty; I will protect you, and all you own, with my life." It was who she was. It was all she knew how to be, a protector.
"Then you will need to learn my daily routine, and be introduced to the Chaurus," Khepri turned about and opened the door, beckoning with a friendly, almost laughing voice, "Come. Let me introduce you to my personal protector and friend, Skitter. I'm sure you two will get along quite well indeed…"
Jordis was so pleased that Khepri had found no reason to dismiss her, it wasn't until that evening, while preparing for bed, that she realized something.
Khepri the Beekeeper was the first Thane who hadn't once glanced at her breasts while in conversation.
It was then that the young Houscarl had a thought: did Khepri need to look with her eyes, when she controlled every insect in a given area?
The question kept Jordis up longer than she'd ever admit to.