Context: It's 100 years since Sielaire's coronation in the last chapter.
Thick tufts of blonde hair kissed by starlight, warmer than Ayrenn's pale shade. Round eyes of a blue to rival the sparkling waters of the Blessed Isles. Slightly thinner than ideal, to be pampered away by her family – though it does emphasise the sharper features of her chin and straight nose.
She is beautiful, Ayrenn muses to herself, a gentle smile on her lips as she cradles the baby in her arms. Only a month old, yet she looks every bit the role she is destined for.
Ayrenn offers a finger to the child, who grasps onto it instinctively, blinking up at her. The girl lets out a short giggle when Ayrenn tickles her little infant ears, still furled neatly at the sides of her head, like flower buds yet to bloom. Oh little one, Ayrenn sighs, kissing the girl's forehead as she yawns and smacks her lips. How is it that I already love you so?
Placing the child's hand back into the blanket, Ayrenn pats her gently and looks up at Sielaire, who is watching her with the softest affection in her eyes. Ayrenn smiles at her wife, then looks over at her cousin, who nods and walks to the dais by her side. She waits for Ciryendur to call the attention of the nobles gathered within his great hall, all eyes turning to the Empress as she steps forth to speak.
"I hereby name Astaire – daughter of Kinlord Ciryendur, thrice-blessed by the stars on her birth – Aldmeri. First of my blood, heir to the throne of Alinor, and the Ruby Throne of our noble Empire."
Sielaire makes a personal note on her parchment – already filled with dozens of other notes she's jotted down throughout the course of this dreary court meeting. Then she reads over the copy of Alik'r's trade proposal again, as Ayrenn sighs briefly in frustration and speaks.
"Councilor, remember that the Redguard are a proud people. That they would offer such specialty goods for trade is a concession in itself, and imposing higher taxes will only be seen as an insult by–"
The council room's doors burst open then, without so much as a warning. But the irritated glances shot in its direction are quickly replaced by surprise, when a young Altmer scout stumbles in. He looks all the worse for wear, the leathers of his uniform dirty and bloodied, his face haggard with dark shadows under his eyes. He disregards the entire Council and rushes for Ayrenn, only to be tackled to the floor by two Prosecution guards who've chased in after him.
"Your Majesty!" he cries, breathless under the weight of armoured bodies pinning him to the floor. "Please! We–, we need aid–, Kinlord– There's an attack–"
Sielaire raises a hand and waves away the guards, who appear hesitant, but rise to their feet nonetheless. As they bow and retreat a few paces, the frantic scout scrambles to his knees, keeping his head low before the Empress.
"Breathe, child." Ayrenn leans forward in her seat. "Catch your breath, and say it again – clearly."
"I–, yes." He takes a few hurried gasps of air, sweat rolling down his face. "Your Majesty, please forgive my rude intrusion," he says between breaths, more coherent now. "My lord Ciryendur's Kinhouse is under attack, and our estate was still under siege when he dispatched me to Alinor. He requests aid, for Lillandril's guard is unable to support our defenses. Please," he nearly sobs. "The situation is desperate, Your Majesty. We're barely holding on."
"I understand." Ayrenn looks to Sielaire, sharing her panic in but a single glance.
"I will lead the Wings to Lillandril." Sielaire rises quickly from her chair, and gestures at the scout still kneeling on the floor. "Follow me," she commands, sweeping out of the room without backward glance.
Sielaire's military uniform has been redesigned since her coronation – its thick cloths replaced by full leathers, supplemented with sturdy quicksilver armour over her limbs and shoulders, which still bear her distinctive heavy bracer and winged pauldron. And, of course, a single scarf around the neck, which can be drawn over the head as a hood.
Though her new uniform has quite a few more pieces than the former, and she's only worn it sparingly over the past century, Sielaire dons her combat gear with disciplined speed; and she has gone to the stables to retrieve her horse, when Ayrenn hurries in with a worried expression.
"Sie, remember: the family is priority. And the baby, especially."
"Of course," Sielaire replies, checking the horse's saddle is secure, before she turns to face her wife, who's wringing her hands unconsciously. "Don't worry, Renn. I'll handle this."
Ayrenn nods as Sielaire cups her face, reassuring her with a kiss. "Stay safe, beloved," Ayrenn murmurs. "Auri-El's light guide your steps."
The Kinhouse of Lord Ciryendur is a large castle estate, over an hour's travel from the city of Lillandril. Though majority of the Kinship are scattered about the Isles and Tamriel on business, the Kinlord still maintains a sizeable residence for his extended family, as well as the loyal vassals in his service. Their estate is well-fortified against both land and naval attacks – due to its proximity to the coast – and just their solid stone walls alone are able to make Sielaire feel safe during her visits to the estate.
That's why she is surprised to arrive at the Lillandril guard's camp outside the kinhouse, only to discover that the invaders have seized full control of the estate, expelling all the Kinship's soldiers so they can focus their efforts on breaching its interior.
The attack was sudden, says the Kinhouse's ranking officer, and their attackers poured through select weak points in the estate to overwhelm their defenses easily. He suspects an inside job, and Sielaire is inclined to agree – though she instructs them to leave the guesswork for another day. They have a more important mission to accomplish.
After poring through a drafted map of the estate and all the damage it suffered, Sielaire weighs the officer's guess at their enemies' numbers, and decides on a direct approach to their problem. With Earilas at her side, she gathers the full contingent of Wings and marches on the main path up to the estate, with the tired and depleted Kinhouse guards following behind them, bolstered by a small force from Lillandril.
As they draw close, Sielaire can spot the numerous fighters posted along the walls, and she brings her troops to a halt, conjuring a large barrier to block the initial flurry of arrows and spells aimed at them.
"Did they really think that would work?" Earilas deadpans beside her, drawing his sword.
"They're testing us. Barriers, up!" Sielaire barks, and their mages conjure a barrier to replace hers, as Earilas commands their infantry to move up, forming the forward lines of their contingent. "March!"
The soldiers march as one around Sielaire and Earilas, their barrier holding up perfectly against increasingly urgent fire from their foes. Gathering her own magicka, Sielaire shouts, "Archers, shields, at ready! On my command – barriers, down!"
The mages drop their barriers as the infantry heft their shields up, to protect the archers launching their first volley of arrows towards the walls. Only a few of their enemies fall under the attack, while the rest duck behind cover – but that's just what Sielaire has intended.
She summons even more power from her reservoir of magicka, and when their foes rise to answer with another wave of spells and arrows, she lets loose. A lightning storm surges from her hands, splitting the air with a sharp crackle as it meets the first bodies on the wall, then jumps from target to target, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. When it has dissipated, nothing rises from the destructive onslaught; a certain silence falls over their troops.
But Sielaire readies her soldiers as they march onward, drawing her own sword as the castle gates part, their enemies flooding through with spears and swords at ready. Lifting her blade to the air, Sielaire roars, "Charge!"
With a howled battle cry, the troops rush at the castle's gates, barely slowing down as Sielaire and the mages rain spells upon the enemy's ranks, weakening them to allow the infantry an easy charge through their defenses. Under Sielaire's direction, the Wings push the enemy into the courtyard, where they are driven into a corner and cut down despite their fierce resistance.
But even with the courtyard secured, the mission has not yet ended. Sielaire splits her troops to perform sweeps across the vast estate, searching for survivors from the kinship, and to remove all invaders still standing on kinhouse grounds. Sielaire and Earilas tackle the main castle from the west and east wings respectively, clearing each floor of foes, until they've successfully cornered the invaders' commander in the castle's great chamber. They dispatch his lackeys easily, but Sielaire makes sure to leave the commander alive, taking him prisoner. He merely answers her questions with a gob of bloodied spittle on the floor, and Sielaire rolls her eyes, ordering her soldiers to toss him into the dungeons until further notice.
Then, it's only a matter of waiting for her troops to report their success, while she digs through the documents in the chamber, looking for clues as to why the Kinhouse has been attacked in the first place. But her search is cut short when Earilas – who had gone to check on the Wings personally – returns and requests her urgent attention. He leads her down the east wing towards the temple, and her heart leaps at the sound of a baby's cry.
They enter the temple to find bodies lying on the floor, wearing both kinship colours and the invaders' mercenary uniforms. But they hold little interest for Sielaire, who kneels beside the Kinlady's body, uttering a short prayer as she closes the woman's eyes. Then she rises to her feet, and focuses on the bundle lying at the foot of the shrine to Auri-El, the baby within wailing hoarsely.
Astaire.
She is just within reach of the soldiers standing around the shrine, but there is one significant problem – the shimmering barrier that separates the child from them.
"We've tried breaching the barrier, but it stands firm against weapons and magic alike," Earilas explains. "Marshal, the kinhouse was besieged for days. There's no telling when the baby was last fed. It'll be dangerous for her if we don't get her out soon."
Sielaire frowns and approaches the barrier herself. She looks at the baby, noticing the faint glow beneath her blanket, wondering if that's the source of the barrier. Then she raises a hand cautiously, resting her fingertips on the barrier, then pressing her palm fully against it, feeling the mute hum of magic against her skin. Sielaire starts to summon her own magicka to try overpowering the barrier, but she's given pause when the barrier beneath her fingers begins to glow. The royal signet ring on Sielaire's finger grows warm, and the gleam from the baby's blanket grows brighter, as the glow from Sielaire's hand spreads and encompasses the barrier in its entirety. The glow intensifies to a blinding golden radiance, then dissipates along with the barrier.
Sielaire doesn't wait to ponder the barrier's workings, moving forward to pick Astaire up from the floor. The baby is squirming mightily, face screwed up as she continues to cry her heart out. Sielaire casts a restoration spell to soothe any discomfort Astaire may be feeling, and the girl's wails slowly fade into sobs, as she gazes up at Sielaire through wet eyes. Astaire grabs onto Sielaire's little finger as she reaches into the blanket, pulling out a folded note along with the pendant hung around baby's neck, bearing the Kinship's winged emblem.
She unfolds the small parchment and reads, 'Only those of the blood, old and true, shall lay their hands on the last of our line.'
A sob distracts Sielaire, and she looks up to find Astaire's features scrunched up again, on the verge of another cry. So she picks a trick from Ayrenn's book, and summons a swirl of twinkling stars about her hand – an illusion that her wife loves to use while playing with the child. Astaire is taken in by the display as always, her little fingers twitching towards the stars as if to touch them.
Sielaire smiles wanly at the girl, and cradles Astaire close to her chest, carrying the child away from the place of violence that was her home.
The Wings set up camp in the estate's barracks, while they gather the bodies of fallen kinsmen and preserve them for a proper funeral later. Most of her soldiers are tasked with clean-up duty – aided by the extra personnel sent by Lillandril's canonreeve – while a select few scour the castle's rooms for documents which may reveal the motive of the attack, or even its source. Information has been scarce so far, but some of Ayrenn's Eyes had arrived the very evening they'd retaken the kinhouse, and set to work immediately.
For Sielaire, most of her responsibilities involve the estate's logistics, as well as communication with the canonreeve and the Empress herself. She is in the barracks office, writing up a single comprehensive report on the events that have transpired and the investigation after, when there is a knock on the door.
"Come in," Sielaire says, looking up only when the door has been shut, and is surprised by the Proxy Queen standing before her. "Alwin." She rises from her chair, clasping Alwinarwe's hands.
"It is good to find you unharmed," Alwin says with a gentle smile, her gaze moving to the cradle near Sielaire's desk. "Ah, and the princess as well." She approaches the cradle and peers in, patting Astaire gently while she sleeps. "Why is she here with you? What of her family? I'd left Alinor just after the first reports came in, so I…"
Sielaire shakes her head. "They're all dead. We found her father and brother's bodies among the soldiers. Her mother was with her, but fell while trying to protect her."
A frown creases Alwin's forehead. "A tragedy," she laments. "And at such a young age." Alwin falls silent in a moment of grief.
Sielaire allows her some time to herself, then asks, "Why are you here, Alwin?"
"To help smooth things over, of course." Alwin takes a breath and straightens herself, moving away from the crib. "I'll stay here and put the estate back in order, while you bring this one good news back to Alinor."
"Ah. How are things back home?"
Alwin lets out a tired huff. "How can they be? Ayrenn is furious. The entire palace is treading on eggshells around her. The sooner you return with Astaire, the better."
"I understand." Sielaire sinks heavily back into her seat, pulling another chair over for Alwin. "She could get…intense during our expedition in Cyrodiil as well. When she's angry, the whole camp acts as if there's a hungry tiger in our midst."
"Really." Alwin regards her quietly, then raises a brow. "Should I even ask if you liked it?"
Sielaire wonders at Alwin's question, then becomes aware of the faint smile on her own lips. She drops it immediately, holding an impassive expression…that is broken within moments by another, sheepish smile.
Sielaire stays at the kinhouse for a few more days, helping Alwin settle a few critical matters before she travels to Alinor with only half of her Wings – leaving the rest behind as Alwin's personal guard, in case anything happens while she's there.
They make quick time to the capital, and within three days, Sielaire is striding down the palace's halls with the princess cradled in her arms. Astaire is awake, and though she glances up at Sielaire from time to time, she's mostly interested in Sielaire's scarf clutched tightly in her hand. She sticks the end of the scarf into her mouth, then giggles through the clean fabric when she receives tickles on her stomach. Sielaire smiles down at the four-month-old, but the joy she feels is dampened when she reaches the door of Ayrenn's office.
She waits for the guard to knock and announce her arrival, then enters the room to find Ayrenn engaged in a discussion with Cariel – the new commander of the Queen's Eyes, after Razum-dar had retired and passed at a ripe old age. Ayrenn glances at Sielaire, then issues the last orders to her trusted Eye – "Continue your investigations. I want every last one of them hunted down and in our custody."
Cariel salutes, then bows to Sielaire before leaving the office. When the door is shut, Sielaire moves forward and hands the baby over to Ayrenn.
"Have you found who's responsible?"
"No," Ayrenn says tersely. "We only know their targets were the family…and Astaire. They're a coordinated group, and have covered their tracks well. Too well." She sighs sharply and shakes her head, calming herself down with considerable effort. Ayrenn smiles down at Astaire, planting a kiss on the girl's forehead, and another on her wife's lips. "Thank you, love. Only you could've resolved this so efficiently."
"Not quickly enough," Sielaire replies.
"You did your best. The rest…was just fate." Ayrenn lets out a slow breath, pacing a short circuit before her desk, as she rocks Astaire gently in her arms. "Sielaire, I've been thinking. Alwin will instate a new Kinlord in Lillandril soon, but…" Her expression turns mournful as she gazes at Astaire, who's grasping clumsily at her turquoise pendant. "I feel that I should…"
Ayrenn seems to lose her breath, closing her eyes briefly before looking up at Sielaire. "I would like raise Astaire as my own – as our daughter. Would you be willing?"
"Of course," Sielaire says gently. "Do you even have to ask?"
Ayrenn smiles, and presses a kiss to her cheek. She adjusts her hold on Astaire when the girl squirms, then offers her fingers for Astaire to play with. "To think, we've been planning to have a child together… Only to have one dropped into our lap, just like that."
Her smile falls away despite her words, and she bites on her downturned lip. Sielaire embraces her, Ayrenn leaning into her warmth gratefully while Astaire burbles between them, blissfully unaware of the sombre air around her.
Reclining in the bathtub with a sigh, Sielaire closes her eyes as she soaks in warm water infused with scented bath salts – a much-needed luxury after a long day filled with intermittent headaches. The tension in her muscles melts away, and Sielaire's heavy head drifts into drowsiness, on the brink of falling asleep when she hears the door opening.
She forces her eyes open to watch Ayrenn walk in, and sit on the stool by the tub without a word. Sielaire waits for Ayrenn to say something, or even raise her eyes for some sort of contact, but Ayrenn stays motionless.
"Darling?" Sielaire tries, and is met with silence. When Ayrenn rests a hand on the edge of the tub, Sielaire covers it with her own, fingers curling over Ayrenn's. "Renn? Is…Astaire asleep?" She tries to make light conversation, and Ayrenn responds with a nod this time.
"Tried to stay awake for a while, but she's sleeping now." Ayrenn's voice is flat, and she stares at the floor longer, before raising her gaze to meet Sielaire's. "I made a mistake."
"Renn–"
"I shouldn't have announced Astaire's status so quickly. I was just so…eager, I didn't give a thought to the consequences."
"That's nonsense, and you know it," Sielaire says, worried but unsurprised that Ayrenn is still conflicted, two weeks after the attack. Her wife has been subdued since then, and refused to speak of her troubles until now. "Renn, listen to me. You and I have discussed this extensively with Ciryendur. We have prepared for the consequences. We just…didn't expect such an extreme."
"But I should have," Ayrenn replies, obviously refusing to listen. "Even Alwin–, she tried to tell me to wait, but I didn't listen to her when I should have." She rests her head in one hand, while the other tightens its grip over Sielaire's fingers. "I'm so rash, Sie. Even after a century, I'm still too rash. And now, I've brought harm upon my family again."
"Renn, beloved. Listen." Sielaire grasps Ayrenn's chin to raise her wife's gaze – her hand is still dripping wet, but she stays in place nonetheless. "If they were this bold to openly assault the Kinhouse, your timing wouldn't matter. You could announce it a year, or a decade from now, and they would still have done the same. I know you feel guilt over Astaire's family – I do, too. But you cannot blame yourself for everything that has happened."
Tears fall from Ayrenn's eyes, and she wipes at them roughly. "It doesn't matter now, does it?" Ayrenn says bitterly. "All I have to do is pick up the pieces again."
"Yes," Sielaire whispers, helpless when Ayrenn's troubled expression lingers. "You will learn, and you will rebuild. And I'll be here with you, every step of the way."
"As always." Ayrenn smiles, sniffing thickly. "Astaire… I'll make it up to her."
"We both will."
"Look, Astaire," Ayrenn croons to the child in her arms, and Astaire's eyes whip over to Ayrenn at the mention of her name, bringing a smile to her mother's lips. "Not me, darling. See?" Ayrenn turns on the spot, so Astaire can look at the monarch butterfly without turning her head too much. "That's a butterfly. Isn't it beautiful?"
"Bah," Astaire coos, as she reaches out with a chubby little hand, grasping at the air in her attempts to catch the butterfly. It flaps around them in circles, then lands on top of Astaire's blonde locks, before it's scared away by the girl's excited squeal.
"Ah, ah. Careful now." Ayrenn hugs the girl more securely to her chest, when Astaire tries leaning out farther. She grins when the girl hugs about her neck in return, and she pecks Astaire on the cheek.
It's only been two months, but Ayrenn already finds herself utterly devoted to the child. She's never thought it possible to love someone so completely, in such a short span of time, but Astaire has proven her wrong. Her daughter's smiles and laughs never fail to brighten even the hardest days, and to have Astaire reaching out for her with that happy gaze, is perhaps one of the greatest rewards that Ayrenn will cherish forever.
"Come, dear," Ayrenn says. "Let's go back inside, see if mama's done making dinner."
"Mah," Astaire repeats, twirling Ayrenn's hair around her fingers as her mother walks up the grass slope to their house, Ayrenn hugging her tighter to keep her warm amid the island's stronger winds.
Once inside, Ayrenn's mouth starts to water from the aroma wafting from the kitchen, and she hears Astaire sniff at the air as well. So she carries the girl into the kitchen, where Astaire's excited burble attracts a glance from Sielaire.
"There's my little Star," Sielaire croons as they join her by the stove. She kisses Astaire on the nose, getting a giggle from the child. "Enjoyed your walk?"
Ayrenn smiles to herself as Sielaire tickles under Astaire's chin, causing the girl's hands to flail in glee. Sielaire has taken to motherhood with much more ease than Ayrenn expected – in fact, she was more adept than Ayrenn in the beginning. Sielaire's had more experience with babies, having cared for her infant brother and sister years ago, and she always knows what to do whenever Astaire kicks up a fuss and refuses to settle down. Of course, there are times when Astaire confounds Sielaire as well, but she and Ayrenn are always quick to learn and adapt to their daughter's needs. It's safe to say that Astaire has been nothing but happy in their care, so far – a fact that Ayrenn takes pride in.
"Here, I've finished with your apple mash." Sielaire scoops up a small serving of mash with the baby spoon, and brings it up to Astaire's mouth. "Ah."
"Ah!" Astaire opens her mouth wide and chomps onto the spoon, clamping her lips on it playfully, until her mothers are able to coax her into freeing the spoon.
"You naughty little girl." Sielaire tweaks her nose, getting a toothless smile from Astaire.
"Need any help, love?" Ayrenn asks.
"No, just have a seat. I'll be done soon." Sielaire waves her away, turning back to the stove.
So Ayrenn moves to the dining table, where she lowers Astaire into the highchair, and gives her a wooden spoon to play with – which naturally finds its way into her mouth. Astaire's been showing signs of teething, and has developed a penchant for sucking or biting on anything she can get her hands on – so they've gathered a collection of clean toys for the girl to do just so, the wooden spoon being one of them.
Ayrenn chuckles when Astaire accidentally drops the spoon onto her small table, and it's just then that Sielaire appears with their food – a bowl of apple mash and a bottle of milk for Astaire, and two plates of baked fish and vegetables for the adults. When it becomes apparent that Astaire has more interest in the mash, Sielaire takes the baby spoon to feed her, so that Ayrenn can start eating first.
But she doesn't – not immediately. She watches as Sielaire plays 'catch the bird' with Astaire, flying the spoon around before she lets Astaire 'catch' it in her mouth. Sielaire feeds her slowly, despite Astaire's constant babbles for more while her mouth is still full, and she makes sure to wipe off any food caught on Astaire's face after each spoonful. Sielaire's quite engrossed in the task at hand – at least, until she notices Ayrenn's gaze, and her untouched plate.
"Aren't you hungry?" Sielaire asks, feeding Astaire another spoonful before Ayrenn grasps her chin, and pulls her in for a kiss.
"I love you," Ayrenn murmurs.
Sielaire tilts her head. "It's not because I cook for you, is it," she deadpans – a favourite tease through the years.
"Partly, yes," Ayrenn replies.
Sielaire huffs, lips parting in a smile as she meets Ayrenn in another gentle kiss. "I love you too."
A/N: Yep, major timeskip because I want Astaire's age young enough that she can inherit the throne at just the right age. (Though it's just detail-picking on my part and probably won't matter much anyway LMAO cough) The rest of 'Aldmeri' will continue from here.
And…I'm very sorry about catman plsforgive