Arc 1—Chapter 4:

It was our longest trip to date, ten days. On returning, we entered the city gate as the twilight faded in the west.

Adrianne was closing down her shop for the night when she saw the tired and extremely dusty pair trudging up to her. We asked if she still had time to transact one more deal that evening. She agreed, reluctantly, but then I think she turned bright red when she finally realized it was us a few moments later. Neither of us was wearing the same armor we'd been wearing when we left town.

After a bath and a good night's sleep, it was late the next morning when I sat down on the bench under the big dead tree in front of the temple. I'd picked up a couple of books in my travels, so one was open in my hands and I was reading slowly as I kept watch around me.

With no helmet to block my view, I saw her approaching, cautiously, out of the corner of my eye. She stopped about six feet away and cleared her throat.

"Mister? Thank you for the apple."

I smiled and looked over at her. "You're quite welcome; it was the least I could do. Besides, you looked like you needed it more than I did."

"Are you the one who's been helping me with Miss Hulda and Mila's mom?"

"Hmm? What's that about?"

"Oh, please don't tease me. Are you?"

"Yes, dear."

"Oh, thank you! May the Divines bless you always." She paused as she looked at me questioningly before finally getting up the courage to ask, "Why are you helping me, though?"

I avoided the urge to laugh at her little expression, and decided that I'd give it to her straight.

"People need help sometimes, and somebody has to do it or it won't get done. I found that out recently in my own line of work when I tried really hard to put off doing what needed to be done with that. It turned out that my delay hurt some people and now I'm going to have to go away again soon to keep a lot more people from getting hurt or maybe even killed. Say, do you want to have a seat? I'm straining my neck looking up at you."

"I not that tall," she said as she sat down on the bench with a huff. She folded her arms defensively.

I crossed mine in a decent imitation of her display, giving a little huff similar to her own. She resisted a smile at first and then tried, unsuccessfully, to stop a giggle.

"Okay, now that we have that out of the way, tell me, child, why are you begging? Why do you need help anyway?"

Sadness swept back over her face. "It's what my friend told me to do. Well, other than you...and Miss Hulda...and Mila's mom, he's the only one who's been nice to me since..."

"It's okay, dear. Take your time. What happened?"

"Since my mama died. My aunt and uncle took over our farm after that; they kicked me out since they said I wasn't good for anything. I didn't know where to go, but I ended up here and now I don't know what to do next. I miss my mama so much..." Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Anger was rising within me, but I knew I had to control it for the good of the girl. I looked forward to dealing with those two later, but for now, she was more important than anything, so I paused for a few moments to keep from sounding upset when I spoke.

"First, child, it's okay to be sad. You've been through a lot, so you can cry if you wish. Your mother, on the other hand, is happy in Sovngarde, though I'm sure she misses you. A lot."

"But Mama said only valiant people go to Sovngarde."

I hadn't expected that, so formulating what I hoped would be the right reply took a few moments. "That's true. But I know of few people more valiant than a mother who sacrifices and does all she can for her child. I'd bet anything your mother was like that. Right?"

She sniffled but gave me a little smile as she nodded.

"Next, you said your aunt and uncle said some bad things. I want you to listen and listen closely. You, dear, are still a child. Don't ever believe anyone who tells a child they're not good for anything. Children need time to grow into whatever it is that they're good at."

She gave this some thought. She looked at me as if studying me for a moment before asking, "What about you? What are you good at?"

"Hmm. I'm not sure. Ask me again when I finish growing up."

This got another giggle. We were making progress.

"So, where's your farm? Can you tell me that?"

"It's outside of Whiterun. Mama used to tell people that it was on the road to Markarth."

"Is it far?"

"A few miles, I think. Mila's mom knows. She used to buy some of Mama's vegetables."

"Okay, thanks. I have to go away for awhile, but until then, here's what I think we should do."

I went over my idea and she seemed to understand and agree to it. She thanked me and, smiling, ran off to find her friends Mila and Lars.

It was only when I stood up to leave that I realized I'd forgotten to ask her name.

~ESV~

Over a month passed before we returned, making a little detour on our journey back by way of the Markarth road. I'd been looking forward to meeting the little girl's evil aunt and uncle. I was more battle-hardened as a result of our journey, and, likewise, my heart had grown hard toward them. In fact, a number of scenarios had played out in my mind during our adventures of how I'd make them pay, but none were to come to pass. The farmhouses and fields in the area had been burned to the ground by a dragon. The few bones that we found were quickly buried and we made the rest of our journey to Whiterun, arriving after dark.

Entering the house, it was pitch black, so Lydia lit a lamp while I stowed our packs; we were so tired we figured we would unload the next morning. Putting a finger to my lips, I took the lamp and tiptoed upstairs to peek into my bedroom. Holding the lamp high, I could see a little mop of brown hair just visible above the top edge of the covers.

Lydia sighed quietly and shook her head. When the door was closed, she whispered with a look of concern, "You let her stay here while we were gone?"

"Yeah, with Adrianne checking in on her from time to time. At least she said she would."

Lydia laughed and shook her head. "I think you're going to have to reconsider the use of the storage room downstairs." Smiling, she added, "I think I may have told you that you might fit a bed in there?"

"Beloved? Are you in here?" The knock and my wife's voice interrupt my writing and my thoughts.

"Yes, dear. Come in." I put down my quill and stand up to meet her, taking her in my arms and kissing her once more as I've done so many times and so happily over our nearly twenty years together. When I don't seem interested in stopping, she gently pushes me away.

"Now, now, Aerik, enough of that. The jarls will be arriving soon for the meeting and our grandson's birthday party."

"Imagine that. Arranging for the annual gathering of the jarls to be held on our grandson's birthday. How so like your mother. To ruin a perfectly good party by inviting all of them." I grin at her.

She grins back. "Technically, my husband—since I'm sure you don't remember it—Andres' birthday isn't until day after tomorrow, but Samor and Lucia agreed to allow us to celebrate it tonight and again with just our family on Loredas. And you're quite correct about my mother. She was ever and always watchful of anything that could be used to her advantage with the other jarls, including her gift. How else do you think she took advantage of your great popularity among our people to have me elected High Queen?"

Teasingly, I ask, "Do you think that my having declined the kingship had anything to do with that?"

"Of course, my love, it had everything to do with it. She knew you well enough by then to know that you'd never, ever, accept it. Even if she hadn't seen it in her vision, she knew that by offering me as a substitute with you by my side as my consort, the other jarls would get most of what they wanted and have no choice but to accept me." She gives me that endearing, but occasionally frustrating, cock of her head that I get when she knows she's right before continuing. "She knew, too, that she'd trained me well enough that once I had the job, you wouldn't have to step in and take over like most of them expected." She pats my cheek and gives me a soft kiss on the lips. "Mother was no fool, my love, and I hope you'll agree that she and my father didn't raise one either."

"Of course not, my dear, but they sure raised a beauty." Seeing that she'd closed the door on entering and that we are alone, I slide my hands down and give her behind a squeeze, causing her eyes to widen and her mouth to drop open as she bobs up on her tiptoes.

"Aerik Dovahkiin! You keep..." Glancing back at the door of my office and seeing it still closed, she grins, and says, "Well, you keep that for later tonight and we'll pick up then." Escaping my embrace, she kisses me once more then moves to the door. "Hurry up, my love, and come on down."

"Yes, my Queen. I have just a few more lines and I'll be right down."

Turning back to the page, I think of the next line, of how I'd planned to sleep on the floor so little Lucia could remain warm and cozy in my bed, but how Lydia would not hear of it. We shared her bed and our body heat that night, platonically as always, but perhaps my daughter—and my dear wife—would prefer that little tidbit be left out of my grandson's present. Therefore, I sit thinking for a little while before finally dipping the quill back in the inkwell. There is so much more to say, and so little time before the jarls arrive.

Grandson, I adopted your mother the very next day after speaking to the jarl's steward about it and cleaning out the storage room. I sent Lydia to purchase some furniture, some clothes, and a little doll for her while I was doing it.

When I asked her that evening if she'd consider becoming my daughter, I'm not sure which of us was happiest, her for hearing my question, or me for hearing her say "Yes!" and calling me "Pa" for the very first time.

Another knock on the door, coming even sooner than expected, causes me to look up and say, "Enter."

The captain of the guard enters. As one of my oldest friends and since most of the streaks of gray in her hair can probably be rightly attributed to me, I am forced to forgive the look of good-humored derision that she gives me for not only not being ready but not even having finished writing.

"Thane, my Lady the Queen, sends me with word that, if you haven't done so already, you are to put down that letter at once and venture downstairs to the main hall to await our guests, the jarls, and their retinues. Sam, Lady Lucia, little Master Andres, and the rest of your family have already joined her and they eagerly await your arrival."

"And Vilkas and your boys? Are they in attendance?"

"Of course, Thane." She smiles. "Unlike some, when have you ever known my dear husband to be late?"

"Alright, alright," I grouse. "Give me a minute."

Huffing but trying to avoid laughing, I put on my doublet, button it, and straighten my outfit to her approving nod. My fingers run through my hair to tidy it, too, and I then rub my clean-shaven face. I spot her grin at that, too. Perhaps it has to do with the condition he once had, but her husband has always been more enamored with his short stubble than with the straightrazor she gave him some time after I introduced them.

Fighting off my own grin at that thought, I turn to the stack of books and papers on the desk where I've been working.

"Uh, Captain, would you mind helping me carry all of this downstairs?"

She rolls her eyes at me. "Thane, forever am I sworn to carry your burdens."

Unable to control the urge, I break down and give her a smile before saying, "Yes, dear friend. I know."

End of Arc 1

Author's Note:

Thanks so much for reading this story; I hope you've enjoyed it. If so, please let me know with your reviews, comments, favorites, or follows. Many thanks, too, to all those who have already favorited and followed the story or left a review. I really appreciate that.

Finally, most have probably noticed but I must admit that this story was written with the Dovahkiin and all of the people of Skyrim having free will with respect to their romantic interests (i.e., not being limited to only those possible spouses in the game). The few lines of in-game dialogue have been altered slightly due to the Dovahkiin's memory those 20-something years later, to avoid possible copyright issues, and to better reflect the slightly altered events in this story. Thank you for your understanding on me taking the literary license with this.