Though the Queen has returned to the Summerset Isles, her work is not yet done. Indeed, since Queen Ayrenn had returned from Valenwood and Elsweyr, and announced the formation of the Aldmeri Dominion, her subjects have risen with hundreds of questions and protests, eager for answers from their sovereign or the newly-appointed Proxy Queen. Leaving the Court of Alinor in Alwinarwe's capable hands, Ayrenn has traveled to Sunhold, where she will convene with the reigning Kinhouse to win their favour – and in turn, the support of Summerset's vaunted navy.
As in Alinor, the nobles of Sunhold assemble daily in the castle, where Ayrenn tends to their concerns. On occasion, Sielaire's had the chance to witness these 'discussions' herself, and she is glad that her place is not in the throne. The nobles clamour over one another for Ayrenn's attention, and barely give her enough time to speak before another voices their opinion. It is quite a madhouse in there, of such a level of chaos Sielaire had never once seen in King Hidellith's reign. It makes her worry for the Queen – though not as much as she pities the free spirit that is Ayrenn. To be trapped in a stagnant position with little progress must be maddening for her.
Despite the thought, Sielaire can't help but smile subtly to herself, gazing at the castle from where she stands at the docks. Ayrenn had seemed on the verge on punching the wall last night, while venting her frustrations behind closed doors, but stopped herself with a brief punch on her temples instead. Sielaire had grabbed her wrists out of reflex, drawing an amused chuckle from Ayrenn. Then she slipped her hands smoothly to Sielaire's head, and matters of state were left to rest for the night.
Sielaire wonders how Ayrenn is holding up in the castle, before she's distracted by the approach of one captain from Sunhold's navy. She looks to him in silent question, and is satisfied by his nod and the sheaf of papers he hands to her – documents approving the deployment of troops to mainland Dominion territories by sea, Sielaire's dragoons included. If anything, this demonstrates the navy's willingness to follow the Queen, even if the aristocrats want to play a round of politics first.
Returning the captain's salute, Sielaire tucks the documents into the scroll case on her belt, and winds her way towards the castle. Though it's a little early, Sielaire is gratified to find her soldiers already gathered at the courtyard, ready to receive the Queen when she emerges from the morning session. She takes time to chat quietly with Earilas, then checks some of her new recruits over, before the Queen walks through the polished double doors of the castle. The soldiers snap a sharp salute in unison, though the Queen is still engaged in conversation with the Kinlady. Sielaire gestures for the soldiers to relax, and waits while Ayrenn bids farewell to the Kinlady for the moment.
She moves up, ready to fall in behind the Queen as Ayrenn walks down the marble stairs, but her plan to escort the Queen to her quarters is thrown for a loop when Ayrenn speaks to her.
"I wish to take a stroll outside the city – with a light guard."
Her tenderness for Ayrenn is shot through with momentary protest – which she doesn't voice. A 'light guard' means Ayrenn wishes to be alone, with as few soldiers following her as possible. Sielaire takes a breath and sighs discretely.
"Yes, Your Grace," Sielaire says, receiving a knowing smile in response. Ayrenn is well aware of how Sielaire feels about her whims, and seems to take much pleasure in ruffling her trusted battlereeve's feathers.
Biting down a burgeoning smile of her own, Sielaire turns away and motions curtly for a reduced guard to follow her, while the rest take up lookout positions around the city. As her soldiers disperse, Sielaire bows her head to the Queen, and follows Ayrenn as she takes a side path to the northern gates of the city, entering the tamed wilds of the outskirts. Ayrenn heads into the woods just beside Sunhold's walls, and her guards spread with another gesture from their commander, leaving Sielaire to accompany Ayrenn.
The Queen walks with hands clasped behind her back, then slows down to be at Sielaire's side. "Tell me," Ayrenn says. "What are the people's true feelings towards the Dominion?" When Sielaire cocks her head, Ayrenn adds, "What do they say about it when they feel safe from the Queen's ears?"
"Ah." Sielaire ponders her answer. "They are as divided as the voices in your court, though they lack the power to do much."
"Hm." Ayrenn lets out a breath. "Do you think they'll come around?"
"Given time, yes. Until then, obedience will have to suffice."
Ayrenn laughs quietly. "A blunt answer. Thank you." She raises her eyes towards the sparse canopy in thought. "What about you, Sielaire? How do you feel about it? Will the Dominion work?"
"I suspect true cohesion will not occur for a long while yet. But it's a noble goal, and worth working towards."
Ayrenn smiles. "And your less official answer would be?"
Sielaire winces. She has tried to be honest, though not enough for Ayrenn's taste, it seems. A slight moment of hesitation, then she replies, "I'd like to believe in it, that it shall succeed. But…"
"Many things are still uncertain," Ayrenn finishes for her, and she nods. "I understand. The Dominion is a gamble, but one we must take nonetheless. We are too few to stand alone, and with a goal like the Ruby Throne...we need every resource we can acquire. I just hope we can keep it together until the end."
"It will take much, but I think you can make it work."
Ayrenn turns her eyes to Sielaire in silent scrutiny. "I'm not so naive to think I can hold it together by myself. But with more like you and Alwin, perhaps."
The sentiment gives Sielaire pause, and as she parts her lips, Ayrenn clasps her hand briefly, grazing a thumb over her fingers. She stares back into the soft gaze, and squeezes Ayrenn in return before the Queen releases her. Sielaire laments the parting, feeling the loss of her lover's warmth, but doesn't reach for Ayrenn. After all, they are not quite alone.
Turning back to the front, Ayrenn continues walking with the battlereeve at her side. "There's so much more to do, Sielaire. But for now, will you walk with me?"
"As always, Your Grace."
If there is anything Ayrenn cherishes, it is the company of the people she trusts. It's evident in her openness around Alwinarwe, even though her cousin possesses a more stoic and solemn nature. It's in her ease around Razum-dar, a trusted confidant whom she does argue with frequently. For Sielaire, it's the private moments Ayrenn steals to be with her, and the standing invitation for Sielaire to visit at night, be it for companionship or more intimate pleasure. Sielaire reads it in the softness of Ayrenn's caress, the fingers twined with her own as her lover falls asleep.
That is a reason why, with doubt still dogging her thoughts, Sielaire shows up at Ayrenn's quarters almost every night, if only to share quiet company.
Sielaire looks up from her clipboard, quill coming to a stop in her hand as she watches Ayrenn working at the desk, with her head resting in one hand, fingers threaded through blonde hair in frustration. The quill in Ayrenn's grip scratches sharply in a straight line, then continues inking the draft of a document below. Sielaire moves her gaze from the quill to Ayrenn's frown, looking ever more severe under the flickering light of the lamp, and she resists the urge to kiss it away. Ayrenn doesn't need the distraction for now, she knows, and turns back to the clipboard resting on her lap.
Leaning further into the sofa's plump cushions, Sielaire returns to the letter she's penning for her family. With Ayrenn occupied by last minute issues, Sielaire had tried to entertain herself with the books in Castle Sunhold's study, but found their subjects utterly dreary. So she decided to tackle one task which she has held off for the longest time.
Tapping the quill's feather on the parchment, Sielaire struggles to find the words which seem to come with much difficulty. It always has. After all, how does one justify a prolonged, willing absence? Her mother has always lamented her distance, even though Lirinwe knows Sielaire's heart is in the right place. Guilt makes it hard to craft explanations, so does Sielaire's reluctance, but the proximity of a certain other is a bigger distraction indeed.
Sielaire's lips curve in a smile when Ayrenn comes to sit with her, bringing Sielaire's half-hearted writing to a stop. Cupping Sielaire's face, Ayrenn first kisses her cheek, then her lips. Sielaire returns the kiss gladly, and winds an arm around Ayrenn's shoulders as her partner snuggles up to her. She sets the clipboard face-down on the couch, but not before Ayrenn catches a glimpse of the neat, though scant few script on the parchment.
"What are you writing?"
"A letter home."
"Ah. Missing your family?"
Sielaire shrugs. "It's been a while. Just thought I'd let them know I'm still around."
"How practical," Ayrenn laughs. "How long has it been since you've gone home?"
She counts the months in her head. "Over a year… Close to two."
Ayrenn's eyes grow distant in thought. "Just before my coronation."
"Yes."
"Is it because of me, Sielaire?" Ayrenn asks, half in jest. "Have I been keeping you from home?"
"It's...my schedule." Sielaire tries to skirt around the truth. It has been due to Ayrenn's coronation and her subsequent travels, that Sielaire's had to postpone her visit home. Not that she minds, but still.
"Me, then."
"Not just you," Sielaire says sheepishly. "I do tend to...forget to go home once in a while."
Ayrenn chuckles, patting her on the chest. "Then I shall let you go when we're passing through Shimmerene. I'll linger for a few more days, give you some time to–"
"No!" Sielaire protests immediately, then catches herself. "No, that's not necessary."
Ayrenn gazes at her mute, pleading expression, then relents with a huff. She taps Sielaire on the nose, and rests her head on her lover's shoulder. Her fingers trail down to Sielaire's, which curl around hers instinctively, a warmth embracing the chill in Ayrenn's skin.
"You've talked so little about yourself, Sie," Ayrenn murmurs. "Tell me more. You grew up in Shimmerene? How big is your family?"
"Not really in Shimmerene, but a homestead near it." Sielaire strokes Ayrenn's hair with her fingertips, relishing in her lover's warmth resting against her.
She relaxes, and starts talking – of her parents, of her siblings, of the years she spent wandering alone and with compatriots. She speaks of the adventures she's had, the decisions she'd made which led to her enlistment in the royal army, and eventually to Ayrenn.
The Queen spends over a week in Sunhold, and has garnered tentative support which may be discussed in Alinor's halls again. Despite what seems like a delicate rapport, all involved seem to find the outcome satisfactory, and Ayrenn isn't besieged by challenges in her last days of visiting Sunhold. Instead, the Kinlord and Kinlady showed their Queen the hospitality she deserves, and nearly gave Sielaire a heart attack when they jokingly offered Ayrenn a ride on the city's beloved gryphon. Ayrenn had turned the offer down with a laugh, then glanced at Sielaire with a smile, the battlereeve sighing just visibly enough for the Queen to see.
On Ayrenn's last day in Sunhold, the Kinlord appears with his family to send the Queen off. They present rich gifts to the Queen in farewell, and though the items attract second glances from many in Ayrenn's entourage, Sielaire pays them no mind. In fact, Sielaire's attention is focused on one person only – the son of the Kinlord who bows smoothly to Ayrenn, with an easy smile on his lips.
"It has been an honour to have your gentle presence grace our humble halls, Your Majesty," the tall mer says. "If I may return the favour, and perhaps pay a visit to Alinor soon?"
The subtlety of Summerset nobility – Sielaire has long been accustomed to it, but this one display nearly makes her lips curl. One hand tightens over her own wrist behind her back, as Sielaire watches Ayrenn smile and accept his subtle compliment. Her heart nearly stops when Ayrenn parts her lips, but resumes beating upon hearing the reply.
"I would be glad for your visit, but I am afraid that chances are, you will find the Proxy Queen in my stead."
The mer receives the rejection with grace. "When luck is in my favour, then. I thank you, my Queen."
Sielaire breathes a discrete sigh, looking him over. He's surely younger than Sielaire, but among the long-lived mer, it is hard to tell apart a thirty or a hundred-and-twenty year old. Even so, he is the first to have dared…
She is shaken out of her brooding when Ayrenn turns around and catches her eye. Ayrenn raises a brow at her, and Sielaire stares back, confused at first, until she's aware of her own frown. She takes a breath to recompose herself, ignoring the heat gathering about her neck, and jerks her gaze away from Ayrenn. Sielaire bows slightly, then leads Ayrenn to her horse, helping the Queen onto her steed. Taking care not to meet Ayrenn's eyes, Sielaire walks away to mount her own horse.
At the Queen's command, the entourage starts down the main road leading away from Sunhold. Sielaire trails a distance behind Ayrenn, staring at the blue-and-gold clad back. She is shaken, and bothered that she is. The Kinlord's son had been a reminder, and Sielaire wonders just how she has let herself slip so. Ayrenn is the Queen, for Auri-El's sake. Royalty sitting at the very top of Summerset's hierarchy. And Sielaire, sitting in the warmth of Ayrenn's shadow, has allowed herself to forget her own status. Ayrenn has responsibilities to bear, and there are those above who are more...fit to share the Queen's burdens.
A vice clamps about her heart, and Sielaire has to take a deep breath, wrenching her eyes away from Ayrenn. You've reached too far.
Sielaire rides along in subdued silence, the murmurs and occasional laughs of her comrades barely making a dent in her consciousness. Though she tries to distract herself by listening to Earilas, the effort barely succeeds, and fails completely when Ayrenn turns around on her saddle, and waves Sielaire over.
"I wish to stop by Sil-Var-Woad for a few days," Ayrenn says when Sielaire reaches her. "To visit Lotus."
Sielaire cocks her head. "Lotus?"
"My indrik." Ayrenn smiles. "My father gave her to me, and I played with her so much when I was young." Her voice trails off in wistful recollection. "Do you think she'll recognise me after all these years?"
She waits for an answer, then frowns slightly when Sielaire's only reply is a distracted nod. "Sielaire? Are you alright?"
Sielaire blinks, realising her mind has wandered. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Ayrenn looks at her, unconvinced. "Are you sure? You seem...troubled."
"It's–, no. I'm not, Your Grace. Thank you," she adds, almost an afterthought. Sielaire meets Ayrenn's eyes, and feels a sudden urge to flee amid the awkward silence, her hand gripping the horse's reins tighter. "With your leave?"
Ayrenn stares at her longer, then nods.
Sielaire turns her horse around and returns to where Earilas had been riding beside her. He fixes her with a curious gaze, but before he can voice a question in concern, she interrupts.
"Plan for a detour to Sil-Var-Woad. Send half the Wings to Shimmerene to secure the roads and city. You will lead them."
"Yes, ma'am," Earilas replies dutifully.
Ayrenn doesn't let the matter rest, not that Sielaire has expected anything else. When they set up camp at night, a note finds its way into Sielaire's hand, just before she leaves to have a private walk in the nearby woods. She reads it, heart sinking at the fact that Ayrenn deems this note necessary, then destroys it with a simple flame spell. Waiting for a suitable lull in camp, when most are drowsy and inattentive, Sielaire skirts around the tents and slips into the Queen's quarters. Ayrenn is standing at her desk and looks up with what may be surprise, and Sielaire puzzles over her lover's expression as Ayrenn walks over, drawing her into a gentle kiss.
"Wine?"
Sielaire's surprised when Ayrenn says not what she has expected. But she takes comfort where she can and nods, accepting the glass which Ayrenn pours for her. She spends the night watching the Queen's face, half in admiration, half in dread, all in attentiveness. Sielaire speaks little, content to let Ayrenn lead, though her mild discomfort remains. Only when they've dressed down, Sielaire sitting in Ayrenn's open bedroll, waiting for her lover to join her, does Ayrenn voice the one issue hanging in the air.
"Something is troubling you," Ayrenn says as she sits by Sielaire. "I can tell."
"It's not important."
"I'm here to listen."
Sielaire argues with herself, then settles for, "Thank you."
She doesn't speak further, and regrets when disappointment flits across Ayrenn's features. Sielaire averts her eyes, ready to make excuses to leave, reaching for her jerkin when a hand cups her cheek. She looks up, and meets the kiss Ayrenn presses to her lips. The familiar intimacy unravels her, and Sielaire kisses back, wondering how long this will last. If there will be a last. And she knows she never wants there to be a last.
Gods above, is she falling in love? Has she thrown every bit of sense into the void, and dared lay claim on that which cannot be hers?
Ayrenn pulls away, and Sielaire ghosts her lips before looking up. She holds still under silent scrutiny, growing aware of each breath she takes, as Ayrenn's hand slides beneath the hem of her shirt. Sielaire merely stares the longer Ayrenn's gaze rests on her, and when the burning question has subsided, Ayrenn admits defeat. She leans forward to catch Sielaire's lips again, her partner responding in kind, reaching up to entwine her fingers with loose blonde tresses.
The tip of Ayrenn's tongue prods, then slips into Sielaire, and she surrenders. She yields to her Queen, to the hand pushing her down by the shoulder. Sielaire gazes up at Ayrenn, and with an ache in her chest, allows the Queen to take all of her in the next kiss.
Their journey through south-western Summerset is smooth, even peaceful. After a brief visit to Sil-Var-Woad, the entourage makes its way north, towards Shimmerene. It is in the city where the Queen lodges, and Sielaire takes time to finish her letter, passing it to a courier who will deliver it to her family's orchards, which is an hour's journey from the city. With her personal task complete, and official duties taken care of, Sielaire sets to wandering her hometown, strolling through the streets she would often take before. One thing interrupts her reminiscence though – and it's Razum-dar, who bumps into her as they round the same corner.
He appears ruffled – quite literally, as his fur is decidedly unsleek, red hair unkempt – but he greets Sielaire amicably and invites her for a drink, to her surprise. They're not quite familiar with each other yet, despite having travelled with Ayrenn together, though they do respect each other as the Queen's agents. So Sielaire accepts his offer, and decides to follow the Khajiit through the city, where he earns a few glances from its Altmer inhabitants as he strolls down towards the docks, and buys two bottles of beer from a stall.
Razum-dar hands one bottle to Sielaire, but nods his head towards the side – they're not done walking yet. She follows him to the beach beside the docks, which is quite popular for a night-out among citizens seeking some quiet away from the city. Razum-dar meanders to the grass bank lining the sand and plops himself down, taking a long swig of beer as Sielaire settles beside him.
"Raz will be honest and direct now, because he is too tired from chasing geese for the whole day," he rumbles. "Truth is, he has been waiting to speak with you for a long time. About Ayrenn," he adds, when Sielaire tilts her head.
She freezes, but forces herself to relax. Of course Razum-dar will know – he is Ayrenn's best spy, and her close friend. In turn, it means he will keep the affair secret as well.
"Yes?"
"The Queen is very dear to this one's heart. She is like a sister to Raz. If you dare hurt her in anyway, Raz will not hesitate to cut you down. Understand?" Razum-dar's gaze is uncharacteristically serious, but then an impish glint appears in his eyes. "Aside from the…little arguments, whatever. Catch his drift?"
"Yes. I will never hurt her," Sielaire replies. For one, she is relieved to know Ayrenn has someone else looking out for her – out of love. For another… "Has she said anything? Recently?"
"Oh, no. But Raz can read people very well. And that kitten? Especially well." He takes another draught of beer, while Sielaire drinks a mouthful to soothe her nerves. "She's had her eye on you for the longest time. And he doesn't think she'll be looking away any time soon."
Sielaire glances at him, a hint of doubt keeping her from accepting that affirmation. "You mean…"
Razum-dar cocks a brow at her. "She cares for you. Surely you can see that?"
"I–, well–"
"Oh, right," he drawls, leaning back on one hand. "Raz forgets. Altmer are the densest of all mer. Forgive his lapse, battlereeve." He chuckles when Sielaire clicks her tongue at him. "But – he is being serious now – do not take her feelings lightly. When she has chosen, she has chosen."
"She can choose much better," Sielaire lets slip, and regrets it the second after, wishing to bury her head in the beach's sands.
Razum-dar falls silent for a moment, then shakes his head. "Let's just say this – Ayrenn tends to make choices which are...for good. Yes, she may make some decisions brashly. But she makes them with a heart most true. And what she chooses, will stay as her chosen. Understand?"
"This...won't serve her best."
"Maybe, maybe not." Razum-dar shrugs. "But there is no swaying her from anything. And if Raz guesses correctly, there will be no swaying her from this – ever."
Arguments rise to Sielaire's throat, but remain unspoken as she stares back at Razum-dar. Her heart is slowly tearing itself in two from indecision, and she nearly cries a note of frustration, when reprieve is delivered in the approach of a young Altmer child. No more than five, Sielaire guesses as the girl walks up to them, with a basket of flowers in hand.
"Flowers for you, sir?" the girl asks, holding the basket out to Razum-dar, then to Sielaire. "Or your lady?"
Sielaire chokes on the air she breathes, and quickly hides her reaction behind one hand, while Razum-dar belts out a deep laugh.
"Oh, she is no lady of mine, dear girl," Razum-dar says. "But, all ladies do deserve to be pampered. How much for the whole basket?"
The girl's eyes grow round, before she stutters, "Thirty gold."
Razum-dar reaches for his belt pouch and retrieves a large handful of coins, putting it into the basket. But when she holds the basket up to him, he merely peers in with a thoughtful hum, then takes half of the stalks.
"The rest are for you, little lady." Razum-dar winks, and a smile sits on his face as the girl gives her thanks and skips away. Then he turns to Sielaire, handing the flowers over. "Here, Ayrenn likes these."
"What?" Sielaire clutches at the flowers when Razum-dar thrusts them into her hands. "I–"
"She likes them, so give them to her. Trust Raz. He will never lead you astray." He pats at his chest, then rises to his feet. "If you feel embarrassed, just say Raz gives them to her. But only as a last resort, alright?"
Sielaire grumbles under her breath, drawing another chuckle from Razum-dar, before he strolls off with his tail swaying behind him.
And she does give Ayrenn the flowers that night, the smile on her lover's face well-worth her slight embarrassment in front of Razum-dar, many times over.