Hands resting on the window sill, Ayrenn gazes at the orchards before the cottage, just barely making out shapes of individual apple trees under the dim moonlight. The workers have long retired to their quarters for the night, but her sharp eyes follow an indistinct figure still moving among the trees – Sielaire's younger brother, she suspects. Sure enough, Virano emerges from his beloved orchard soon after, smoothing back his blond hair as he steps into the light of the streetlamps lining the main road.

A huff passes her lips as he enters the cottage. Virano spends much of his time occupied with the orchards, and it's a favourite complaint of Sielaire's – that her brother has somehow been captivated by that which had driven her from home in the beginning. She doesn't mean it, of course; the three siblings make a hobby of picking on one another's chosen careers, and seem to enjoy bickering over it. Honestly, Ayrenn enjoys watching them as well – Sielaire, in particular. Her wife adopts a carefree and youthful mien with her siblings, so much unlike the stoic and grave battlereeve who'd accompanied the Queen in her campaign across Tamriel. It sets Ayrenn's heart at ease – the war hasn't taken so much from the battlereeve that she has lost touch with who she truly is, deep down, unmarred by suffering.

Taking a breath, Ayrenn exhales slowly and pushes away from the window sill. She turns around to look over Sielaire's spacious bedroom, and strolls to the shelves set by the study desk. One is a bookshelf filled with tomes that have barely seen use for years, while the other two have glass display windows for its upper shelves. Ayrenn peers in, looking with interest at the magnificent model of a swan ship on the top shelf, complete with miniature sailors dressed in the colours of Summerset's navy. Her eyes rove over the intricate details carved into the ship, admiring its stunning accuracy, before turning to the rest of the collection.

Ayrenn can guess where a few items came from, like the short sword with the Fighters Guild emblem embossed on its sheath, magically-preserved roses from Archon's Grove which Sielaire is fond of, and the lacquered feathers Virano has given Sielaire over the years – two of which have found its way onto her hair tie, a reminder of home that she'd worn throughout the war.

The rest of the items, though, are not as telling. There is a book of poems, a fine ruby necklace, and an untouched bottle of perfume which matches the green of Sielaire's eyes. There are a few figurines of cats – in wood, glass, silver – and Ayrenn is just pondering the life-like amethyst eyes of a glass cat when the door swings open. Sielaire walks in with a towel hung around her neck, and she reaches for the back of her head, letting her hair down from its messy knot. She sighs softly as she tosses the towel onto a chair, and looks into the mirror of her dresser, touching idly the scar on her mouth before she realises Ayrenn is watching her.

She cocks her head, and Ayrenn merely smiles in reply, turning back to the display shelves.

"You can open them, you know," Sielaire says, walking over.

"Well, I don't know how particular you are about them." Ayrenn steps back to let Sielaire unlatch and open the glass windows. "You've quite a collection here."

Sielaire shrugs. "Just some stuff I've picked up over time. Some are gifts." She follows Ayrenn's gaze as it lands on the ship model, then takes a miniature sailor between her fingertips. "My grandmother gave this to me. Whenever we visited her in Sunhold, I'd always slip away to the docks and spend so much time staring at the ships… She gave me this so I wouldn't have to go to the docks all the time."

"That's sweet."

"I suppose." Sielaire lapses into thought as Ayrenn fiddles with the toy sailors as well. "Here, let me show you." She takes the sailors and lines them into a specific formation on the deck. Ayrenn's eyes grow wide when an ocean-blue glow envelopes and lifts the ship, which hovers in place while emitting the faintest hum which mimics the wash of waves on the hull. Light from the enchantment plays across the polished hull and its sailors, imitating the reflection of sunlight from the sea. "Nice, huh?"

"Yes, it is." Ayrenn leans closer with a smile. "She must've spent a small fortune on this."

"She did. Though I never understood why…" Sielaire's voice drifts away, before it returns as she taps one sailor on the head, a smile curving her lips. "I used to imagine I was one of them. Sailing across the waters, fighting sea monsters, rescuing ladies and cats in distress..."

Ayrenn laughs. "Cats?"

Sielaire's smile turns sheepish. "They hate water."

"Ah, of course." Ayrenn indulges in a few more laughs, then calms herself down with a deep breath. "Did you ever want to be in the navy?"

Sielaire cocks her head. "For a time. Then I realised I'd be stuck on a ship, staring at the same scenery day after day. I couldn't bear the thought of it."

"Shame. You would've looked fantastic in a captain's coat."

"But I would've had the coat...and not you."

Ayrenn smiles. "Oh, Sie. If I saw you in that coat, I'd insist on traveling by ship everywhere."

Sielaire laughs, clutching her arms and pulling her close. "That would make things inconvenient, Your Grace."

"I'm sure you would've found a way, my dear Battlereeve," Ayrenn croons, pecking her on the lips.

"Perhaps," Sielaire humours her, kissing her once more before letting her go. She glances at the ship again, then turns away with a shrug. "But I have all I want now, and that's enough for me."

Ayrenn's heart grows so soft she nearly trembles, and she wonders how she's still standing with both feet swept unexpectedly from beneath her. She watches as Sielaire flops onto her bed with a loud sigh, a small grin parting her lips as she lies atop the covers she's obviously missed. As Sielaire's eyes flutter shut in contentment, Ayrenn moves over and falls on top of her without ceremony. Sielaire breaks into a breathless laugh, wrapping an arm around Ayrenn as she presses a kiss atop blonde locks.

"I love you, Renn," Sielaire sighs.

"Love you too," Ayrenn murmurs, nestling her head in the curve of Sielaire's neck. She takes a breath of her beloved's floral-tinted scent, and knows Sielaire is right. This is more than enough.

"Ah, thank you, Lirinwe." Ayrenn accepts the cup of tea handed to her. "Or should I say, 'Mother'?"

Lirinwe's shoulders jerk as she tries and fails to hide a scandalised gasp. "Oh no, please. I am not your mother,"

"But I am marrying your daughter," Ayrenn points out, biting down a laugh.

"Yes, but I'll not risk having your mother roll in her grave, bless her soul." Lirinwe gestures in brief prayer as if to ward off bad luck, before pouring her own cup of tea and sitting with Ayrenn at the table. "Just Lirinwe, please."

"As you wish," Ayrenn replies gently, taking a sip of tea while Lirinwe recomposes herself. They're sitting in the parlour, sharing a pot of tea while the rest of the family is away. Erelmir and Virano have gone to Shimmerene on business, while Sielaire and Rilenya have hitched a ride with their father and brother, heading into the city for a walk. Ayrenn, for once, has passed up the chance to stretch her legs – but for good reason.

Lirinwe takes two slow sips of tea. "Sielaire tells me you'll travel before returning to Alinor?"

"Yes. We'll enjoy our freedom before the coronation." Ayrenn smiles when the reminder sinks into Lirinwe, bringing them closer to the subject she wishes to discuss.

"I suppose this is the only chance you'll have," Lirinwe concurs. She indulges in more tea – mostly to soothe her nerves, Ayrenn observes in the stiff manner she drinks. "Then...after coronation, Sielaire will be…"

"She will be officially recognised as my consort, yes."

Lirinwe stares at her, though this time her gaze is a tad sharper, and Ayrenn readies the answers she has prepared. "Ayrenn, I don't want to seem rude, or negative. But are you sure–?"

"Yes," Ayrenn replies without hesitation. "But I understand that you may have concerns."

"I do. I mean, it's a fact that Sielaire is not of the aristocracy. I don't see how she will be accepted as your consort by the Court. And, even if she is, you will be expected to produce an heir of the old blood, royal blood – which Sielaire cannot give you. You risk breaking the line of succession if..."

"Both questions that have troubled me so," Ayrenn says, keeping a smile on her lips. "But you can rest assured, Lirinwe. I have made plans to overcome these obstacles."

"They will make things...unnecessarily difficult."

"They do," Ayrenn admits with a sigh. "Nevertheless, I won't allow them to stand between me and Sielaire." She falls silent after that, to gauge Lirinwe's reaction. But when the matron adopts a stoic expression so much alike her daughter's, one difficult to read, Ayrenn continues, "I love Sielaire, Lirinwe. She has stood by me for all these difficult years, and I cannot imagine a future without her. Not one where my heart is whole, anyway."

Ayrenn smiles when Lirinwe breaks into a soft laugh. "And, to be perfectly blunt with you, I don't care what stands between us. I will be with Sielaire, one way or another. Anyone who disapproves can kiss my...shoe," Ayrenn corrects herself at the last second, but it seems unneeded, as Lirinwe bursts into a hearty laugh.

"Oh," Lirinwe says, calming herself down with much effort. "Just where have I heard that before?"

Ayrenn can't help but chuckle along with Lirinwe's apparent amusement. "Where?"

"Has Sielaire ever told you about my marriage to Erelmir?"

"Vaguely." Ayrenn shrugs. "Apparently you married down, and it strained relations with your family."

"Yes, that's it. They wanted me to marry into this Kinhouse with holdings all across Summerset, and bring more prestige to the family. But no, I was in love with the most handsome, charming apple farmer, and wanted no one else but him."

"But Erelmir has made a name for himself," Ayrenn says. "And every profession is honourable with the right amount of dedication."

"Yes, but see. He was a nobody back then. Compared to my prospective suitor, Erelmir was lacking. Very lacking. My family tried so hard to keep him away, but I declared I would marry him, and they could…kiss my shoe if they were unhappy about it." Lirinwe laughs, softer this time, and gazes out the nearest window. "It got so tense, even Erelmir tried to back out. He said even if we couldn't be together, he would still love me from afar. Can you believe that man? I told him, he could either marry me, or give up any thoughts of me for the rest of his life. So he got down on one knee."

Lirinwe shakes her head, as if still in disbelief, then looks at Ayrenn when the younger mer starts laughing by herself.

"Sie takes after her father then. She told me the same thing – that she'll love me from afar – but I talked her into wearing the ring."

Lirinwe smiles, then bites on her lip. She rests a hand over Ayrenn's. "It will be difficult, Ayrenn. Even more so in your station. You do understand that?"

"Yes, I do." Ayrenn clasps onto Lirinwe in return. "But I will see us through. And I'll keep Sielaire safe, no matter what comes of this. This I swear to you." She holds Lirinwe's gaze steadily, until the matron nods in satisfaction. As Lirinwe leans back in her seat, Ayrenn says, "Now, about the Queen marrying 'down'...I plan to solve that issue soon. How do you feel about being nobility once more?"

Lirinwe chokes on her tea.

Though Shimmerene's port is smaller than Sunhold's, it sees an equivalent amount of traffic on its docks, owing to its direct sea route to Skywatch in Auridon. Instead of official navy activity, Shimmerene receives mostly merchant vessels seeking to trade in Summerset's most open market, or the occasional outlander who seeks permission to stay and make a life among the Altmer. As a result, Shimmerene's population is the most diverse in the Summerset Isle, which has in turn influenced the types of goods sold in its market, even if the insular culture of local Altmer remains untouched.

It is the reason why Ayrenn likes Shimmerene most of all – nowhere else in Summerset can she find her favourite Khajiiti wine, even though any trace of moon sugar has been regulated out of the port by strict Summerset laws. Even so, Ayrenn is glad to spot bottles of the wine at a stall, and she drifts away from Sielaire to purchase a bottle. She greets the merchant in Ta'agra, taking him aback, and they draw curious glances from passing Altmer as they engage in light-hearted bargaining in the Khajiit tongue. Ayrenn impresses the merchant enough that she ends up with one bottle at a discount, and two free cakes in a paper bag.

Restraining the urge to eat one cake while walking, Ayrenn steps back and looks around the market for her wife. It takes a bit of searching, as the market is slightly crowded, but Ayrenn soon spots the dark red hair of her wife, who has opted to go without disguise. She takes two steps, then slows down with a frown. Sielaire is standing in a quiet corner of the market, speaking with another Altmer under the shade of a blossom tree. The stranger stands so close to Sielaire that it borders on personal space, which she obviously doesn't care about, as her fingertips are ghosting over Sielaire's arm with an intimacy that makes Ayrenn want to swat her away. And Sielaire, though standing straight and respectable, makes no move to break away. In fact, Sielaire wears a comfortable smile as the private conversation goes on.

It sparks a hint of frustration in Ayrenn, but she composes herself. With deliberate steps, Ayrenn strolls over to the pair, and is the picture of casual curiosity as she winds an arm around Sielaire's – forcing the stranger to break away.

"I've been looking for you, darling. Who is this?" Ayrenn asks with a smile, meeting the stranger's pale golden eyes.

"Carilure, this is Aralinwe, my partner." Sielaire's hand rests on Ayrenn's, unknowingly soothing her wife. "Ara, Carilure. We...knew each other."

"Very well," Carilure adds, looking Sielaire over slowly, before doing the same to Ayrenn. "A pleasure to meet you, Aralinwe."

"The pleasure is all mine," Ayrenn replies amiably, though she'd find greater pleasure in pushing Carilure off the docks. With a smile plastered on her face, Ayrenn scrutinises Carilure's countenance, and admits that she is disarmingly beautiful. Alluring, with pale wavy hair to match her eyes, and full lips which seem seductive even in a simple smile.

Sie knows how to pick them, Ayrenn thinks drily.

The two mer hold each other's gazes long enough to make Sielaire tilt her head, before Carilure turns back to her. "Will you be staying in Shimmerene for long, Sie?"

"No, we're just visiting. Maybe another week or two, then we'll be back on the roads."

"Ah. You still have that wandering soul, then." Carilure smiles sweetly. "Are you traveling around Summerset?"

"First, yes. Then wherever the roads lead us."

"I see." Carilure's eyes flicker to Ayrenn, and a smirk lifts the corner of her lips. "Are you planning to make a trip by Lillandril before you depart? I remember those caves that were...perfect for a rendezvous," she purrs, and her eyes rake over Sielaire again.

It takes every bit of Ayrenn's will to keep smiling when Carilure looks back at her, and they stare at each other with empty smiles in silent battle. But Ayrenn is distracted first, breaking eye contact when Sielaire's arm shifts beneath her fingers. She glances at Sielaire, noticing the tell-tale twitch in her wife's eye, then becomes aware of her nails digging hard into Sielaire's arm, causing her to flinch subtly. Gaze turning apologetic, Ayrenn lifts her nails and rubs at Sielaire's arm through her sleeve.

"It's been nice chatting with you, Carilure," Sielaire says, turning her gaze from Ayrenn. "But I'm afraid we'll have to take our leave now."

"Of course. I've some business of my own to attend. But if you ever have the time – you're always welcome for a visit at my place, hm?"

Over my dead body. Ayrenn watches as Sielaire smiles, bowing her head in farewell when Carilure finally moves away. Ayrenn's eyes are fixed on that annoying sway in Carilure's hips, before Sielaire leads her off in the opposite direction, walking down the marble-white steps to an empty pier. Ayrenn heaves a sigh, frowning at the deep blue waters before Sielaire's curious gaze catches her attention.

"You seem tense," Sielaire remarks.

"That's one way to put it," Ayrenn growls.

Sielaire laughs under her breath. "Don't take her seriously, Renn. She's just...like that."

Ayrenn scoffs, then tries to calm down with a deep breath...which fails. She casts her eyes around for a distraction, but can't seem to take her mind off the encounter. "So, the caves in Lillandril?"

"On the shore leading south from the city, actually," Sielaire clarifies. "It's a favourite meeting spot for young couples."

"Oh? Why?"

"It's dark...spacious. Has many private corners." Sielaire trails off in reminiscence. "Not...very soundproof, though."

Ayrenn coughs to hide a laugh when Sielaire looks a bit embarrassed. "Did you go there often?"

"I went...enough."

"Oh?' Ayrenn hums. "Maybe you should bring me there to have a look, hm?"

Sielaire's gaze snaps to her, frozen for a second, before she notices the impish smile on Ayrenn's lips. She huffs and relaxes. "Are you jealous, Renn?"

"No," Ayrenn says. "...Maybe."

She blinks when Sielaire comes to an abrupt halt beside her. Ayrenn stops as well, and Sielaire's fingers cup her chin, tilting her head up for a soft kiss.

"There's no need," Sielaire murmurs. "You know I'm yours."

"I know," Ayrenn replies, breathless under Sielaire's fond gaze. Though Sielaire has wound an arm around her waist, Ayrenn clutches onto her wife's shirt, just in case her weak knees fail her. "Still. I should find a way to mark you…"

Sielaire sighs, rolling her eyes. "Maybe you'll find one in Lillandril, then."

Though the fear of boredom and routine in mundane safety was what drove Sielaire to seek adventure, and she does find immeasurable comfort in her homestead, despite voicing flyaway complaints to make her brother's ears twitch. It's what she has needed for a long time, she'd realised after spending the first night at home. To have been away for so long, to serve in the Queen's service, to fight and bleed and dance with death in the battlefields of war, Sielaire has nearly forgotten that caution is not the default state of being. Not to be on alert, muscles always tensed for the next battle. But to be happy, lazy, immature, carefree – all that were a luxury in war, are free for her to indulge once more.

Sielaire glances to her side, where Ayrenn walks hand-in-hand with her. Blue eyes catch her gaze, and Ayrenn cocks her head in curiosity. Sielaire replies with a smile, tugging her wife closer to wrap an arm around her waist.

She places a kiss on Ayrenn's temple. "It's been four days. Country life still not too boring for you?"

Ayrenn mirrors her soft smile. "No."

"Not yet."

Her wife laughs, a beautiful resonance in the quiet night air. "You know me well, love."

"All too well," Sielaire repeats drily. "I'll have to enjoy this peace and quiet before you start pulling me into all sorts of trouble again."

Ayrenn pinches her nose. "Come now, Sie. Be more positive about our honeymoon! It'll be fun. An adventure!"

"I am positive it will be…" Sielaire considers her words when Ayrenn raises her brows pointedly. "...interesting."

"To say the least," Ayrenn humours her.

Sielaire sighs, merely shooting her wife an exasperated look. But she softens when Ayrenn caresses the back of her hand with gentle fingertips, and Sielaire remembers why she'd suggested this night-out. She presses her fingers just a tad firmer against Ayrenn, feeling her wife's warmth through the thin shirt, as they stroll down the river near the orchards. They walk in comfortable silence all the way to Virano's cabin by the river, where they are greeted by two cats heading out for a night hunt. The cats chirrup in greeting when Sielaire rubs her foot against them, but otherwise ignore the mer as they stalk into the woods, and will no doubt leave an offering at the door in the morning.

The cabin is well-kept as always, and empty – as Sielaire has intended. She locks the door behind her quietly while Ayrenn lights the fireplace with a lick of magic, then closes the distance, gripping her wife's arm and pulling her close. Ayrenn looks up at her in surprise, but a crooked grin parts her lips just before Sielaire catches her in a kiss – hard enough to make Ayrenn groan in satisfaction. Sielaire's lick and bite on Ayrenn's bottom lip make her intent clear as they part.

"Someone's frisky," Ayrenn purrs, slinging both arms around Sielaire's neck.

"Someone wants to make a point," Sielaire says. She takes a step forward, making Ayrenn move backwards as well. "I can't believe how you were today."

Ayrenn chuckles. "She was coming on rather strong…"

"She was," Sielaire admits with a laugh. "But still, you know how I feel."

"Of course I do, darling," Ayrenn replies, tongue flicking between her teeth. "But I think we'd both prefer a demonstration now, don't we?"

Another laugh deep in Sielaire's throat, and she closes the distance once more. Ayrenn's back hits the dresser as Sielaire kisses her, teasing and nipping until Ayrenn's fingers grip into her hair, forcing her to delve deeper. Sielaire relents, slipping into Ayrenn's mouth, then draws a whine when she pulls away all too quickly. She smiles at Ayrenn's pout, and sates her with another kiss before drawing her down to the floor, pushing her back onto the cushions laid out by the fire. Sielaire covers Ayrenn's lips with her own, hand slipping beneath the hem of her wife's shirt, traveling ever slowly up soft and scarred skin, until a tug on her hair forces her to pull back and look down at Ayrenn.

"Won't your brother–?"

"I told them to stay away," Sielaire replies disinterestedly, pressing her lips to Ayrenn's flesh, this time trailing down her jaw and neck with exaggerated slowness.

"So you planned for this?" Ayrenn laughs.

"I've been waiting since we came here," Sielaire says, a devilish curve on her lips. She lifts her head, catching Ayrenn in another kiss. "Do you have any idea how difficult it was to keep my hands off you in my own bedroom?"

"Why were you even holding back?" Ayrenn breathes.

Sielaire smirks, and doesn't answer. Instead she lavishes Ayrenn with kisses, trailing her warm hands over Ayrenn's flesh, divesting her wife of her clothes. Only when Ayrenn lies bare beneath her, does Sielaire pull her own shirt off, taking pleasure in Ayrenn's hungry gaze fixed on her muscular physique. She trails her fingers along Ayrenn's jaw, caresses her lips, then dips into her mouth where a slick tongue welcomes her. She lets Ayrenn suck on her digits for a while, before pulling out.

"Truth is, Renn," Sielaire says, voice dipping to a lower timbre as she massages between Ayrenn's legs with damp fingers, and slips in with ease. "We are going to Lillandril."

She thrusts languidly, thumb rubbing against Ayrenn with a familiar pressure which makes her grow ever slicker around Sielaire's fingers. When Ayrenn's eyes have fluttered half-shut, Sielaire leans down to Ayrenn's ear, so close that her lips brush over sensitive skin as she speaks.

"And we need to practice," Sielaire purrs, low and hot. "Where only I can hear you scream."