Chapter Summary: Sielaire is on High Isle preparing for Queen Ayrenn's arrival, when she receives news that the Queen's ship had sunk. Working with Lady Arabelle and the hero of Tamriel, she races to find her Queen before it is too late.


A/N: Played High Isle. Fic brain go brrrrrr

This arc assumes familiarity with High Isle's main story, so names will pop outta nowhere but don't worry about it! It'll be easy to follow (I hope). Quick plot summary: Peace talks are arranged on High Isle, but the alliance leaders' ships are sunk by a magical storm just before they reach the island. The Ascendant Order is behind this, and are hunting down the missing leaders after their shipwreck.

This chapter is much denser than previous ones in Devotion, we have a lot of ground to cover before we find the Queen. Some in-game details are tweaked for better flow.


Sielaire takes a bite of her toasted tuna sandwich and leans back on the wooden bench, grateful for the pavilion's shade as she watches labourers haul cargo up from the nearby docks, sweating under the sun. She allows her mind to drift off, watching the bustle of the dockside market as she indulges in a late lunch, waiting for her companion to return from the food stalls.

Contrary to expectation, she is on High Isle without her liege. She had been sent ahead to ensure the island's security for the Dominion's forward delegation, and in turn, Queen Ayrenn when she arrives at a later date. Cariel was dispatched alongside her to manage the…subtler aspects of their work, and they had spent two weeks on High Isle since, combing over proposed meeting sites and accommodations, planning security detail for the delegations. Not terribly demanding work – in fact, it is much less taxing than her usual duties as battlereeve, and Sielaire finds herself taking it in stride…despite her initial protests against the assignment.

Indeed, it was against her wishes that Ayrenn had deployed her to the Systres. Sielaire had argued that something as simple as site reconnaissance and security could be entrusted to another worthy commander in the Queen's service. But Ayrenn countered that Sielaire knows best the Queen's exact specifications – which are, frankly, more lax than Sielaire's – and that she can accomplish much more on the island instead of being stuck on a ship during Ayrenn's voyage. Sielaire suspects it is Ayrenn's way of relieving her tension after a string of assassination attempts on the Queen's life, but the argument was moot nevertheless – Battlereeve Sielaire is duty-bound to follow Queen Ayrenn's command.

"Oof." Cariel groans as she drops onto the bench beside Sielaire, fanning herself with her free hand. "You would not believe the line for this."

"Oh, I can," Sielaire replies with a smile, eyes on the paper bag that Cariel sets between them. She peels open its folded top, allowing the aroma of fried fish skin to waft towards their noses.

It's a Bosmeri snack that Cariel went crazy over since she'd first spotted it in the market, and it's been a staple in their meals ever since. Sielaire doesn't mind – they do taste delicious, either eaten alone or paired with other dishes.

They take a piece each and toss it into their mouths, eating the snack with loud, satisfying crunches.

One thing High Isle has over the Summerset Isle – the variety of goods on sale in Gonfalon Bay is amazingly diverse, shipped in from every part of Tamriel. Sielaire has found her own paradise wandering the market's food stalls, picking up street food and tidbits to share with Cariel. It is something to look forward to between their meetings with the Steadfast Society and Lady Arabelle, and Sielaire finds herself planning to taste them all again with Ayrenn.

With a small smile, she picks another skin from the packet, munching slowly as she secretly thumbs the wedding band under her glove. She had been anxious since leaving the Queen's side, but regular exchanges with their enchanted rings and Cariel's veteran aid have helped loosen the tight cord wound within her. Constant fretting over their separation serves no purpose, and there's nothing more she can do but wait for her Queen's arrival. Besides, Ayrenn is a capable woman. She can take care of herself, should the situation call for it.

Thoughts lingering on her beloved, Sielaire eats with Cariel in companionable silence, occasionally taking a swig from the bottle of ale they share. As Sielaire finishes the last of her sandwich, vaguely wondering if she could take a swim by the shore that evening, a runner catches their attention.

Cariel's knee nudges her, and they straighten themselves as the young Breton man jogs up to them. His leathers are discrete and of common make, but the amulet at his neck reveals that he is part of the Society of the Steadfast. He leans down, and they return the favour, listening intently as he whispers.

"Lady Arabelle requests your presence at Mandrake Manor. She has gone to resolve an emergency, and will be along soon to meet with you."

Sielaire frowns, muscles tensing. "What emergency?"

"I'm unsure of her current business, but we received news that the royal delegates' ships have sunk en route to Gonfalon Bay."


The world blurs, then sharpens to a painful intensity around Sielaire.

To Cariel's credit, she voices no complaint, uttering a short apology to the runner Sielaire has shoved past, and catches up to the battlereeve in her sprint towards Mandrake Manor. Sielaire lets themselves in with the key Arabelle had entrusted them with, but finds the place still empty. She starts pacing in the hall impatiently, while Cariel lights the hearth, knowing better than to ask her companion to calm down.

Tense minutes pass, but when the door finally swings open, it is not Arabelle who walks through, but three weary sailors. Sielaire recognises Za'ji among them – these must be the captains of the royal delegates' ships.

In a split second, she descends upon Za'ji, noting with displeasure the Khajiit captain's dazed and exhausted demeanour. He deflects her questions weakly, and Sielaire is nearly tempted to grab his collar when his fellow captains step in, extricating Za'ji from the impromptu interrogation. Kaleen squares up before Sielaire, demanding peace and promising explanations once Lady Arabelle arrives.

When Sielaire's hands tighten into fists, Cariel steps in with a firm grasp on the shoulder, guiding her into the spacious kitchen, where the battlereeve tries to pace her agitation away.

She is unsuccessful, and flies out of the kitchen when the front door is swung open again. Lady Arabelle walks in this time, accompanied by that Breton called Jakarn, and a blonde Altmer warrior she recognises as the hero of Tamriel and former Eye of the Queen. When Sielaire steps forward, Arabelle waves her back tiredly. She relents, recognising from their battered states that they had been through some ordeal.

Folding her arms, she takes up position by the wall, making eye contact with the former Queen's Eye – who recognises her as well. Aneril nods in greeting, and Sielaire inclines her head politely.

The motley group rests before the fire, before Lady Arabelle returns to the hall to gather information from the ship captains. They confirm what is already known – that the ships have sunk off the coast of High Isle, victims of an unnatural storm that had wrecked their ships with terrifying speed. All three captains were swallowed by the sea and spat onto High Isle's shores, where the Ascendant Order had found and taken them captive.

Captain Kaleen mentions that the Bay's dockmaster had been present while the Ascendant Order combed High Isle's shores for survivors among the wreckage, and while in captivity, she'd heard the Ascendant Lord and Magus speaking in the manner of Breton nobles.

Sielaire looks to Arabelle, who seems thoughtful.

"Then we shall pay a visit to Dockmaster Arnauld."

"No," Sielaire interjects, drawing eyes to herself. "Our primary objective should be the recovery of the royal delegates. We know the ships sank near High Isle. Let us send search parties to cover the coast."

"Patience, battlereeve," Arabelle replies, placating yet firm. "We do not know if the Order has our royal delegates in their custody, and it would be wise not to tip our hand just yet. Best that we determine their location, before we act with precision. The dockmaster may have a clue where to find them."

Sielaire starts to argue, but catches Cariel's gaze over Arabelle's shoulder. A slight shake of Cariel's head, and she calms down unexpectedly. Perspective from an Eye always holds sharp insight – and if Cariel thinks she is overstepping, there is some truth to it.

She thinks it over. "Very well. But I will join your investigations."

"Of course."


Entrusting Cariel with their original assignment, and to guard closely the Dominion forward delegation that had arrived the day before, Sielaire leaves Mandrake Manor with Lady Arabelle, Aneril, and Jakarn. The dockmaster's house is just a short walk away – which they find empty, with furniture toppled and cabinets ransacked, yet a meal still sits on the dining table.

Arabelle surmises he'd either left in a hurry, or was taken against his will. No matter which, they have no clue where he'd gone, and this lead is a dead end – but they have another. Since the Ascendant leaders had spoken like Breton nobles, it is possible that they belong to a noble family of High Isle. She suggests consulting Lord Bacaro Volorus of the Steadfast, sponsor of the peace talks, for his knowledge on the local nobility.

"We will find the royals in due time," Arabelle adds, at Sielaire's impatient fidgeting. "By following the perpetrators' trail, we will uncover their locations eventually."

"I only hope we'll find them in time."

"We will."

The reply comes not from Arabelle, but Aneril, who gives her a small smile – not bravado, but an attempt to comfort. Sielaire holds her gaze, and pushes down her growing anxiety with a sigh.

"Let's go, then."


The sun has started to dip into the horizon when they arrive at Steadfast Manor to the north, where they find Lord Bacaro agitated over the murder of two Steadfast retainers by Ascendant agents. Arabelle calms him quickly, and relays the status of their investigation. Bacaro thinks it over, identifying two noble houses with enough resources to fund the Ascendant Order – House Dufort and House Mornard.

Representatives of both houses will be present at the welcome banquet to be held the next day – and he invites them to the event, where they may interact with the nobles directly. In the meantime, he offers rooms in the manor for them to rest, before they attend the banquet.

Sielaire nearly bolts out of the manor – to conduct her own search for Queen Ayrenn, or simply press her face into the ground and scream, she will never know. A nod from Aneril anchors her senses, and the Altmer pair follow Lord Bacaro to the room they'll share for the night.

"It'll be fine," Aneril says, surprising Sielaire out of her dour mood when they have cleaned up, and are bedding down for the night.

Sielaire looks up, watching Aneril slip under the covers of the bed opposite hers. Noticing the attention, Aneril meets her gaze with more calm than Sielaire feels.

"In my experience, these things have a way of working out in the end." She lies down, setting her head on the pillow. "Besides, from what I've seen of the Queen, she'll handle herself just fine."

It's a belief Sielaire shares, though her wayward heart seems intent on tearing down her confidence in Ayrenn, with each hour that passes with no answers in sight. She sighs and blows out her bedside candle, plunging the room into darkness. Laying her head on the soft pillow, she already knows this night will not hold much rest for her.

"If anything," Aneril speaks again. "The Ascendant Order should be afraid of the trouble she'll give them."

That single statement breaks through all her fears so suddenly, Sielaire finds herself bursting out in a laugh, Aneril chuckling with her. She thinks back on all the times Ayrenn had flown from her side with that sword glinting in the sun, scattering and slaying foes with expert blade strokes, before turning around to fix Sielaire with a victorious grin.

"Yes," Sielaire says, a dash of hope returning to warm the hollow of her chest. "Yes…they should."


They arrive at Castle Navire for the welcome banquet, dressed in armour that draws curious looks from dignitaries in the courtyard. While Aneril and Jakarn split off to mingle with the guests as Arabelle suggested, Sielaire approaches a member of the Dominion's forward delegation, who sits at a table nursing a cup of wine.

"Lady Melinanthe, it is good to see you have arrived safely." Sielaire bows, and nods subtly at Cariel – who stands near the table, dressed as the lady's attendant.

"And you as well, battlereeve." Melinanthe beckons with her fan, and Sielaire bends down to hear her whisper, "Have you word of the Queen? I've heard the royal delegates are not attending this banquet as planned."

"There has been a slight delay in her journey," Sielaire replies, the white lie falling from her tongue with ease, borne of her time in the Queen's service. No matter the circumstance, the well-being of Queen Ayrenn's subjects comes first – even before Ayrenn herself…so long as she gets a say in the matter.

"Oh, dear. I do hope it's nothing serious."

"I hope so too, my lady."

Sielaire forces a smile, sharing a knowing glance with Cariel, before she turns around to find Aneril walking over with two glasses of wine. Sielaire takes her leave of Melinanthe, accepting one glass and following Aneril to a corner, where they sip and have what seems like a private chat to prying eyes.

"Duchess Dufort has conducted her own investigations into the Order, but refuses to share what she's learnt," Aneril murmurs. "We need the details, one way or another. Jakarn will pose a distraction, and we will slip into the castle to find the results of her investigation."

"Good," Sielaire whispers, her eyes drawn towards Jakarn who is…ripping off his shirt?

She stares, speechless, as Jakarn jumps onto a food-laden table, kicks glasses of wine to the floor with his foot, and starts swaying his half-naked body to the bard's tune. Sielaire hears Aneril cough amid the gasps and cries of outrage from the guests, then feels a hand on her arm – it's time.

While the rest are transfixed by Jakarn's spectacle, they slip into the castle unnoticed.


With more finesse than Sielaire has expected, Aneril guides them through the castle, sneaking from shadow to shadow, avoiding guards on their patrol routes. Sielaire wonders vaguely if Aneril had learnt this from her Dunmer companion from before, but the question is driven from her mind when they find Duchess Dufort's study. They rifle through her belongings with haste, and Sielaire finds a report of the Dufort investigation – just as the very stones of the castle rumble dangerously beneath their feet.

Meeting Aneril's shocked gaze, Sielaire ties the scroll to the back of her belt, and they run towards the nearest exit, unnoticed by guards who are fleeing the castle's confines as well. When they emerge into a private garden, they find a dark storm swirling over the castle, emitting such a strong magical resonance that it makes Sielaire's ears ache. A glance to the side tells her that Aneril is experiencing similar discomfort, but they fight through it – and Ascendant agents invading the castle – to reach the courtyard where the banquet is held.

They arrive to find the place empty, save for Lord Bacaro, Lady Arabelle, and Jakarn, who stand among the bodies of the Ascendant Order's fallen. Broken tables and chairs are strewn across the ground, wine and cakes mingling with blood on paved stones. The low, rumbling voice from the Ascendant Magus' projection leaves them with one last threat, before the storm overhead retreats.

While Bacaro vows to ensure the safety of the guests and nobles huddled within the castle, Arabelle bids Aneril, Sielaire, and Jakarn to return to Mandrake Manor, where they will decide their next move.

Sielaire nods when Aneril glances at her, and they start making their way to the stables. She stays silent while Aneril and Jakarn start to chat, swapping accounts of their experiences through the storm.

She ponders the power of the Ascendant Magus, and wonders if Ayrenn can withstand it on her own, should their circumstances turn so dire.


Standing on the steps of Mandrake Manor, and watching an earthquake reduce the mighty Gonfalon Colossus to mere debris doesn't lighten Sielaire's optimism, dim as it already is. They still know nothing of the royals' whereabouts, and Sielaire is forced to admit they don't have the numbers to comb the islands for the missing – at least, not without risking the Order finding them first.

So Sielaire throws herself into work, to keep herself from falling to despair.

Based on Duchess Dufort's investigations, there are three sites on High Isle that are important to the Ascendant Order. Sielaire volunteers to escort Guild Magister Valessea and Druid Ryvana to one site in the northwest, while Aneril and Jakarn team up to tackle the northeastern docks. When they're done, they will rendezvous with Kaleen at the final site to the east, which the ship captain will scout first.

Bidding farewell to Aneril with a brief clasp on the arm, Sielaire moves out with Valessea and Ryvana. They ride to the site on horseback, but when they reach the destination, it turns out to be the middle of nowhere in an empty, if peaceful plain by a lake. Traces of potent magicka still lingers in the area – and it reminds Sielaire of the storm's resonance back in Castle Navire.

She shares her suspicion, and Ryvana proposes a ritual to trace the magicka back to its source. Valessea asks Sielaire's help to gather reagents for the ritual, and she agrees, glad to keep occupied while the two plan the ritual's specifics.

She finds the bloomingsong flowers first – spotting them easily under the shade of a copse of trees, glowing gentle blue amid purple petals. Sielaire takes a moment to admire them when she plucks three stalks from the ground. They are beautiful, and she resolves to present some to Ayrenn, when they are finally reunited.

Tucking the flowers into her belt, she catches a torchbug easily by the lake, pulling one into her palm with telekinesis. She places it carefully into an empty belt pouch, then heads back to her two companions – who already wait for her, and accept the reagents with gratitude.

Sielaire steps back while they perform the ritual – which results in the torchbug flying off to the magicka's origin. It leads them to a small cave mouth by the shore, which feeds them into a large, open-air cavern; Ryvana recognises it as an ancient druid ritual circle. They find discarded implements of a ritual that was cast here recently – all of which are burnt, and bear the same resonance as the residual magicka lingering in the area.

Signs of a ritual gone wrong, Valessea notes, examining the ruined ritual implements. If the Magus had used this site to summon the storm that wrecked the royal delegates' ships, then the Order must have lost control of it, and are now scrambling to rectify the situation.

Sielaire bows her head in thanks, and leaves the pair to study the circle further, while she heads off to meet Aneril.


Despite riding her horse hard across the Isle, Sielaire arrives at the eastern site to find Aneril and Kaleen waiting for her at a cave mouth. As they venture in, Aneril relays information from her visit to the docks – Dockmaster Arnauld had been captured by the Ascendant Order. Upon his rescue by Aneril, he revealed that the Magus had shifted the search for survivors to Amenos island.

Sielaire's heart leaps at the detail – the Order must suspect that the royals are on Amenos. But she curbs her excitement reluctantly, in favour of the task at hand.

The trio venture into the cave, and find a camp at its heart, with three dead Ascendant agents on the floor, lying in dried pools of blood. Kaleen finds a letter among the dead's belongings, which details instructions to leave the ships vulnerable to the storms, and to dampen any magicka the royals might use to protect themselves.

Three dead agents, one for each alliance. Sielaire recognises one of them – a Bosmer soldier who'd been chosen to accompany Ayrenn on her voyage. Her lips curl into a silent snarl at the traitor, but the thought of Ayrenn drives her onward.

She leads her companions out of the cave, and back towards Mandrake Manor. On her mind, the name of one place drowns out all other concerns.

Amenos.


When they return, Lady Arabelle is in her office, speaking with Captain Tsuzo – the Argonian Pact captain. They share their findings, and the importance of Amenos island is corroborated by Tsuzo's intel – he had found his boatswain, who'd been wrecked on the coast of High Isle. The boatswain confirms that she'd seen Prince Irnskar at the time of the wreck, clutching onto debris from the ship, floating towards Amenos.

That leaves them with only one place to go – and Lady Arabelle wastes no time, gathering Jakarn, Aneril, and Sielaire for the journey.

They fly towards the Dufort Docks on horseback, where Lady Arabelle seeks out a contact of hers – Captain Basrush, who commands a prison ship that regularly transports 'cargo' to Amenos. They arrive just in time for the next delivery, and Basrush agrees to smuggle them in, after some sweet talking by Arabelle.

Basrush hands over three sets of prisoner rags – one for each infiltrator. Aneril and Jakarn scrunch their noses at the dirty rags, but Sielaire grabs a set impatiently and heads into the nearby warehouse, where she starts stripping down her armour and clothes. She's joined shortly by Aneril, and they change into the rags in busy silence, heading back out to find Jakarn already done.

They set their belongings on top of a crate beside Arabelle, who promises to keep the items safe. But when Sielaire starts walking towards the ship, Arabelle stops her.

"Your ring too, if you please." Arabelle holds out her palm, then cocks a brow when Sielaire hesitates. "Prisoners are stripped of their belongings before they're shipped to Amenos. This will make you stand out. I'm sure your wife will understand."

Sielaire hides a grimace, wondering how much Lady Arabelle knows. She clutches the gold ring between two fingers, hesitates a moment longer, then yanks it off and drops it onto Arabelle's palm before she can regret it.

The ring's absence on her finger makes her anxious – it has been her primary method of knowing Ayrenn is safe, or alive, at the very least.

It doesn't matter now, she tells herself. She is so close to Ayrenn. She will not need the ring any longer, so long as she finds her beloved.

"Oh, and…" Arabelle stops her when she tries to move off again.

Irritation crosses Sielaire's face when she turns back, and is overtaken by confusion when she sees Arabelle dragging her gloved hands over the grimy surface of the crates beside her. Arabelle walks up to Sielaire, and smears both palms over her cheeks and neck, causing her to jerk back in indignation.

"What in Auri-El's name–?"

"You look too clean. You'll stand out too much on Amenos." Arabelle grabs her hands, dirtying them as well. "And you."

Aneril stands her ground valiantly, though a similar grimace creases her features as Arabelle mucks up her face, neck, and hands too.

"All done. Now, off you go."

"Wait," Jakarn pipes up. "What about me?"

Arabelle looks him over coolly, lips quirking in the corner. "You already fit in."

A puppy-eyed pout settles over Jakarn's face. "What's that supposed to mean?"


They're offloaded onto Amenos after a half day's voyage, and blend in with the stockade's residents easily – what with Sielaire's scowl at her grimy state, Aneril's defeated mien at her own appearance, and Jakarn being…Jakarn.

Aneril and Sielaire stick together, while Jakarn slinks off for some sleuthing on his own. The Altmer pair speak to the friendlier faces in the stockade, all of whom convey the same information – the only way out for a prisoner is through the gates of Amenos station, and into the unforgiving wilderness. Before that, prisoners have to be 'processed' by some mysterious procedure, which binds them to the island. Processed prisoners are unable to leave Amenos, and those who try will die in their attempt.

Naturally, Sielaire and Aneril agree that this 'processing' must be avoided at all costs.

While they linger near the gates, wondering how to slip out of the station and into the wilderness, the approach of a leather-garbed guard stiffens their backs in caution. But when the guard draws close, the crooked smile of Jakarn sets them at ease. He pats discreetly at the keyring that hangs at his belt, and gestures for them to follow.

Keeping their heads low, they follow Jakarn to the main gates, where he lets them through without trouble.

"Careful now," he whispers, as he takes the shackles off their wrists. "Don't get eaten up by wildlife before you find them, yeah?"

"Don't get into trouble yourself," Aneril replies.

Jakarn only winks, and saunters back towards the stockade with the swagger of an overconfident guard.


Sielaire's heart starts to race the moment they leave Amenos Station. She allows the adrenaline to drive her forward, leading the way towards the shore, where they will start the search for the ships' wreckage.

It turns out to be a good decision – within minutes, they find some debris stuck in the sand, used as perches by curious seagulls and shelter by mudcrabs. They follow the trail along the water, debris and drenched cargo acting as signposts for their search, until they chance upon a Senche-raht with white and brown fur lying on the sand, unconscious behind a cluster of rocks.

They recognise Caska immediately, and rush over to her. While Aneril starts to heal the blood-encrusted wounds on her body, Sielaire sets her hands on the sides of Caska's head, weaving a healing spell to ease any trauma she'd suffered to her skull. Caska rouses as the spell fades, ears and nose twitching, before her eyes snap open. The low rumble in her throat is unmistakable.

Sielaire grabs Aneril, and she flings themselves backwards just as Caska's huge claws unsheathe, raking the air where they had knelt around her.

"Easy, Caska! It's us!" Sielaire barks, and Caska's bleary eyes focus on her.

The Khajiit stares at Sielaire, then at Aneril – both Altmer that she recognises, as the Queen's guard and the hero of Tamriel. Caska groans aloud and slumps back to the ground, heaving a deep breath that makes her white-furred chest rise and fall.

"How long has it been…"

"Two to three days since the shipwreck, give or take," Sielaire estimates, as they return to Caska's side. "Have you been here all this time?"

"Barely remember…dragging myself from the water. Just laid down to rest. Swear I've been here for…a few hours." Caska's eyes flutter when Aneril resumes healing her wounds, and she swats a paw back at the Altmer. "Forget it, I'll be fine. The Queen…?"

"She's missing," Sielaire tells her, setting a hand on her shoulder. "Do you know where she is?"

"I've been unconscious. What do you think?" Caska growls, forcing herself to all fours with obvious effort. "But if we find something of hers, I might be able to track down her scent."

"Good. Then let's go."

"Wait," Aneril interrupts, touching Caska's back. "You're still injured."

"Queen first, walker." Caska nods at Sielaire. "Or this one will explode before I do."

Sielaire feels heat rise towards the tips of her ears, glimpsing Caska's wry smile and Aneril's averted gaze. She turns to the front to start the search and hide her abashment.

"It's good to see you, Caska. Za'ji is very worried about you," Aneril says.

"So he's alive! That's good to know. Now I can kill him for getting us wrecked as soon as I see him."

Despite herself, Sielaire smiles at their chatter as the search progresses. They find even more cargo dragged farther inland, and chance upon a crate carrying some equipment. Aneril and Sielaire arm themselves with a sword each, and strap on some leather armour before moving on.

The sun is inching towards the highest point in the sky, when they stumble upon an old campfire in the forest – beside it is a gold medallion that had been gifted to each delegate of the peace talks. Queen Ayrenn included.

Sielaire snatches it up and holds it out to Caska's nose, and the Khajiit confirms that it has Ayrenn's scent on it. Then she sniffs at their air, ears pricking as her eyes widen.

"This way!"

Caska takes off at a sprint, her powerful four-legged stride leaving the two Altmer in the dust, struggling to catch up with her. Sielaire's heart thunders in her chest, anticipation building to a painful rhythm, then implodes when her own ears pick up a fierce cry through the air.

It is her – Ayrenn. Accompanied by the clash of swords and whir of spells being cast.

Sielaire leans into a dead sprint, leaving Aneril behind and impossibly closing the distance to Caska. It is not long before they reach a clearing, where the Queen is besieged by Ascendant agents on all sides. Sielaire's heart soars when her eyes fall on Ayrenn, then burns with untamed fury as she turns her sights upon those who dare assault her Queen.

Rage that she'd kept under wraps bursts free, and she charges into the fray, lightning flashing from her hands to destroy the agents at Ayrenn's flank. The display of magicka turns Ayrenn's head, blue eyes meeting green, and she smiles – beautiful, untouchable.

Without breaking eye contact, Ayrenn effortlessly cuts down one agent who had rushed for her, then lashes out with a blast of energy that knocks her foes back. Taking advantage of the opening, Sielaire, Aneril, and Caska tear into the agents, slaying enough of their numbers that those who still stand turn to flee.

While Aneril and Caska take down the stragglers, Sielaire approaches her Queen – half-inclined to believe that the vision before her isn't real. What mortal could survive a shipwreck and fend off assaults with her robes water-stained yet still immaculate, the elegant crown upon her head glinting with sunlight breaking through the canopy?

Then Ayrenn speaks – her voice level, affection roiling beneath its calm surface. "I knew you'd come."

Sielaire is overcome with a desire to take her wife into her arms, after weeks of separation, and days of uncertainty that had felt like eternity. But the crunch of paws and boots on grass behind them stays her senses, and she holds herself back. Resting a fist over her heart, she bows dutifully, and takes her place behind Ayrenn when the Queen moves forward to address Caska and Aneril, thanking them for the rescue.

It takes all of Sielaire's restraint not to break into a smile, just listening to the dulcet tones of her love's voice, as she speaks of preparing a spell to calm the storm that hugs the Amenos coast. While she orders Caska to stay for a bout of healing, she tasks Aneril and Sielaire to find the items needed for her weather ritual.

"I saw some harpies to the northwest. Best to start your search there. Sielaire – a word before you go."

Sielaire nods at Aneril, who returns the gesture and marches off with a confident gait. Turning around, she joins Ayrenn where she is kneeling beside Caska, who lies on her side to allow access to her ribs.

Sielaire lowers herself to one knee, awaiting more orders. But Ayrenn merely clasps her chin between thumb and forefinger, drawing her in for a firm kiss. Sielaire loses herself in her beloved's lips, the warmth that she'd missed in the weeks apart; her heart unravels, setting off a keen, beautiful ache in her chest. The world has been made right, and she once again sees its future in the clear, crystal blue of her Queen's eyes.

"I've missed you," Ayrenn murmurs.

"And I, you," Sielaire whispers, leaning in for another kiss.

A low rumble from Caska reaches their ears. "Now I wish I'd drowned."

They smile against each other, but take their time before parting. Ayrenn cups Sielaire's cheek, thumb wiping at the smear of dirt on her skin. Thankfully, she asks no questions, and turns back to Caska with a satisfied smile.

"Go, love. Meet me on the shore when you're done."

"As you command, Your Majesty."

A louder groan from Caska. "Stop flirting."


A/N: Hey peeps! It's been 2 years since the last update, hope y'all are doing good! I'm so happy to finally revive this fic, at least for High Isle :D

This chapter focuses on the search for Ayrenn (and the royal delegates, but we know who's really important in here ok). Now that we have our Queen, the next one will have more fluff, promise!

(Not sure if I'll cover Firesong too, since Ayrenn's involvement is so brief. We'll see.)