From Talos, with Love

"With great power comes great responsibility. A shame they never mentioned a nocked arrow or a dagger dipped in poison, because I'm not taking responsibility for any of that."

Chapter 8—Thief-Khan

8-8

"Filthy ash hoppers," I curse under my breath, unstopping a flask and bringing it to Galsa's lips. "Drink."

She sniffs the neck of the flask make a disgusted face. Still, she drinks it empty. A Cure Disease should solve any unpredictable problems, so I grab her hands and check every inch of her. Legs, back, front, neck, face. I even run my fingers through her hair, looking for anything out of place.

I find nothing, but I unstop a flask of regeneration all the same and have her drink it empty—better paranoid than sorry.

"Alma! Those things didn't even come near me!" Talare complains, getting much the same treatment from Ane and Vy. I can't tell which of the two is inspecting the little girl closer.

Lady Luck was kind to us tonight. So what say we don't tempt her to change her mind during this trip?

I stuff the empty flasks back into my satchel, to refill later, and take Galsa into my arms again. She's all too willing to hold me and never let me go, so it works out for both of us.

"Those things. The aradra. They would have burned your home to the ground," I say, standing with Galsa clinging to me. "And the ash hoppers. They would have killed your reavers before you even got close."

I turn to the Velothi gathered on the wreck's upper deck. Children cling to their mothers, and mothers—pregnant or otherwise—gather their babies, young and old, to them. The reavers make a clear line between me and their noncombatants, but really they know they have no hope of defeating us. Not when my people defeated everything that would have killed them to a man.

"So, let's cut right to the chase. When I leave, odds are, whatever is out there that wants you dead will come back. And they will not fail a second time."

The children burst into tears, only to be held a little tighter by their families. The women, they hide it well, but their fear is just as evident to me.

"So who among you will accept me as your new khan? Who will come with me to a new home where the ash doesn't choke you in your sleep? Who would give themselves and their children to me, to mold you into something greater than you are now?"

I stand and wait.

No one moves.

"As you wish. Three blessings upon you. You'll need them." I turn. "Come. I'm tired, and it's a long walk b—"

"Take me with you!" The first caves before I take three steps. "Please, Silvarkhan! My children and I! We'll serve you! Anything you wish!"

Silvarkhan? Star-khan? Of all the…

"Pack only what you cannot live without. All else will be provided," I say, taking another step. The night is filled with a flurry of motion. Footfalls on hollowed wood, shouts to 'grab that'. Bags are clutched, bedrolls packed, food stowed.

There isn't a woman here that even considers not leaving with me, it would seem. Ten mothers, each with at least one child, though on average three—the majority of which are already of age. Good. Now I just need to get them to Faldar's Tooth in one piece, and I'll have the people I need to truly start working my way up in the world.

And once I have my people grow strong, Frey. You will know the fear you instilled in me that night.

8-8

We make it back to Raven Rock without incident, though the guards are leery and deny us entrance—or deny the new faces, but to me that's the same. Still, when none of my people draw steel, they agree to summon Morvayn.

On his arrival, he only stares with low-hanging jaw. His eyes take in the group I brought. The children, the packs they all carry, the men who seem quite nervous and leery of his guards.

"By the way. You had quite the ash hopper infestation," Scarlet informs him. She doesn't at all sound smug—not in the least. "And there were some weird ash things we were attacked by as well. They call them the 'ash death'?"

That makes even the guards nervous. Though their armors cover everything, their shoulders slacken and droop slightly, and they look to one another as if to confirm they truly hear what is being said.

"I'm beginning to see why you only need two days," Morvayn eventually manages. "Guards. These are Reydaserjo's people. They are to be treated with the same respect as all citizens of Raven Rock, do I make myself clear?"

I bow as well as I can, but Galsa still refuses to not hold me, so the best I can do is nod. We're let in without issue this time, though the Second Councilor—what's-his-face that sort of greeted us by the dock earlier—stares with distrust in his eyes. He isn't important, not to me, so forget him.

I lead my people down to the dock, and address the captain directly. Well, Scarlet does. "Captain Salt-Sage. Would it be acceptable if our people were to rest on your ship until departure?"

"Well." The man eyes the size of the group, and the clear bandit signs. "Provided you pay passage and keep them outta trouble? Shouldn't be a problem."

Scarlet fishes out another two-hundred and fifty septims, paying the man on the spot. We're led to the same cabin as before, and we pour into it.

We start organizing. Everyone unpacks bedrolls, and soft lullabies are sung to settle the children down for the night. The women keep to one side, away from the men—I'm not sure why, but I have my suspicions. The children, even the older ones, all keep close to the woman I suspect is their mother.

Dovyn and Vy come to me. But only she whispers. "We have more camps to clear out. We'll handle it, if Scarlet and Ane don't leave your side."

"I don't want you two going without me."

"And neither of us wants Ane and the girls going," she counters. I sigh, conceding her point. "We need this, Ser. Trust that we'll come back to you in good health."

"Take my satchel." I practically shove it into her hand, the rattling of flasks almost being drowned out by the surrounding din. "And tuck your girls in before you go."

She pulls back, her cheeks decidedly red as she turns to look at Ane and Talare settling into a single bedroll at the foot of the bunks. She can deny it all she wants—to me, to Dovyn, even to herself—but she wants those two to be hers, for life.

With a nod, my chap'thiil does as I ask.

8-8

I lie in bed, but I do not sleep. It's only a matter of time before one of the boys is dumb enough to pull a stunt. Suspicious and perhaps paranoid of me, but I'm not dying for any fool's ambition.

A sword unsheathes. I kick my legs off the bunk and sit up, facing him. His eyes are wide, but quickly narrow as he squares his jaw. I conjure my bow and nock an arrow, aiming for the fool halfway between me and the boys—all sleep save us two.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my tone sickeningly sweet. He moves to sheathe, but I draw and loose the arrow, burying the head deep into his thigh.

He suffers the pain in silence, but that isn't what this is about. I nock another arrow.

"Wake the boys," I order. He tries pulling out the arrow instead. "Do it, or I loose another arrow."

The poor fool stumbles and drags his leg over to the boys, kicking them to wake them. There's some grumbling, until they see the ethereal arrow still stuck in the idiot's leg.

"What have you done?" Each in turn asks the scapegoat only this question, over and over. The questioner then looks to me, finding me sitting in my bunk and facing them with a blank face. They eye the bow and the nocked arrow.

Once the nine are awakened and facing me, I turn my attention to the scapegoat. "Explain to them what you've done and why. Lie, and you get another arrow."

He stutters through his words, but he tells them he planned on killing me, Ane, and Scarlet, and taking our coin and our things so he could be the new kahn. Shortsighted, arrogant. But mostly predictable—and that will cost him.

"Good. Now all of you will go without your weapons. And you have this n'wah to thank for it." I loosen my focus on the bow, cast Telekinesis, and disarm all of them, setting their weapons into the knapsack I had ready and waiting for this moment.

The boys glare at the fool, their anger and disappointment more potent than days-long lectures condensed into mere seconds.

Once the last of the weapons are stowed, I continue with the dressing-down. "Now, wake your wife."

The fool drops to his knees, begging and pleading for anything but that. I only conjure my bow and nock an arrow.

"It's alright, Silvarkhan," a voice tears through the silent room, cutting into the fool deeper than the arrow. "I do not sleep, but I am his wife no longer. No one fool enough to attack our khan will share my bed. Nor will he father or raise my children."

The pain in his thigh is no doubt nothing compared to this. His own people turn against him, his wife disowns him. And thus, the example is set.

As if that isn't enough, the woman wakes her children, all four of them. And she painstakingly explains to them what the scapegoat has done, and how 'Silvarkhan' is rightly upset with him for it. The eldest, a man about my age, comes to me, stopping well outside my comfort zone—not even nearing Ane and Talare where they sleep—and he takes the knee.

"Silvarkhan. You are rightly upset with this man. Please. Allow me to cleanse my family's honor with his blood."

"No need. He is of your family no longer. His sins do not stain your standing, your honor, or your future," I say, leaving nothing to interpretation. I stand and pick up the greatsword the fool would have slain me with, if he could.

I walk to the warrior that sees the new hierarchy and accepts it.

"As proof of your family's honor, accept this sword, and guard your family well." I offer the sheathed blade. He reaches up, accepts his family's blade, and taps the wooden floor with the tip as if to draw the attention of their watching ancestors to bear witness that he is now the rightful head of his family. "Know that come morning, I may no longer speak in your presence. Not for the exile's deeds, but rather because I see you as a man. Until reunited, I may speak before no man that would not serve my muthsera unto death."

"Then I will be that man. I swear on my ancestors, I will serve your beloved to my last breath." His mother's eyes shine with pride, as do his younger siblings'.

A second and third come, his sisters, no doubt. They appear about the same age, perhaps seventeen or eighteen. "Silvarkhan." They take the knee beside their brother.

"I will not observe more vows this night," I cut them off before they begin. "Warrior. You will mind the exile. When my chap'thil return, you will explain to them what he's done. Vilvyni will decide his fate."

The siblings nod. The eldest moves to the scapegoat, grabbing the arrow still very much stuck in his thigh, and using it to move him against the far wall, near the door. With that done, the sisters sit beside Ane's bedroll, one to the foot the other to the head, and they hold vigil.

Their mother and I share a look—she's nervous her daughters toe the line, but proud of her children all the same. I nod to show I'm in no way upset and she relaxes, hugging her youngest, a boy perhaps six years old.

I dig out two swords in sheath, handing them to the sisters with a nod. They nod in thanks, sharing a look. There's a wordless exchange between them, before they settle in, sitting cross-legged with the sword lain in their lap.

No one will be fool enough to try something again. Not tonight, at least.

8-8

Vilvyni and Dovyn return just in time for breakfast. The first of my warriors painstakingly explains every detail to Vy, including how the exile would have killed Ane and me if successful.

Vy comes to me, laying a full knapsack at my feet and murmuring in my ear. "We cleared out three of the camps. We have enough chitin armor to suit everyone up, and enough Elven blades and bows to arm them."

"No injuries?"

"None, Ser. I want to bring him with us on our next hunt. He might be just what we need."

"That's your call to make. I'm fine with it. But he isn't to return."

She nods, her eyes lit up with what seems like vindication.

"Have you reported progress to the councilor?"

She nods. "The bonemold armours are in the bag. Four full sets, including shield."

"Good. Eat and rest. Ane slept poorly, so you two can cuddle up if you want. I have things to handle, I'll take Scarlet with me."

"We can rest on the way back."

"Ane needs her rest. And she'll rest easier with you here."

"She'll rest easier with both of us here."

"She can also hear you both perfectly fine," Ane chimes in, smiling as she tears a piece of her bread and hands it to Talare. "We leave tomorrow. I can manage until then."

Vilvyni sighs, not liking it but unwilling to argue.

"Come, Vilvyni. You and Talare need to eat." Ane beckons to my chap'thiil, no doubt wanting them to eat together.

But curiously, my first warrior, he stands beside Dovyn, the pair of them in a heated—if whispered—debate. His two sisters sit near Ane and Vy, eating and drinking quietly, their eyes darting back and forth, as if scanning their own people for plausible threats.

Interesting.

Dovyn comes to me, offering an apothecary satchel. He leans in, murmuring into my ear, "We spotted Mehra. She seemed annoyed. Likely no takers. How do you wish to handle that?"

"You and Vy need to focus on your task. Let me worry about Mehra." He nods, moving over to his sister and accepting the simple breakfast Ane offers him.

I break another piece of my bread, offering it to Galsa. She takes it, slinks into my lap, and lays her head against my chest.

Life keeps changing on me. Sigh. Best not to worry about it.

8-8

My warriors, men and women alike. They stand before me, their spines ramrod straight, their shoulders tucked back. Of the fifty-two Velothi I claimed as my own, fifteen are without child of their own and of the right age to be properly trained. Not bad, all things considered.

I hold the final bow, offering it to my warrior as reverently as the situation dictates. She accepts it, bowing low before moving back to line-up alongside her fellows.

"This day," I begin, my eyes roaming over the ten chitin-clad archers and the five bonemold-clad and shield-bearing tanks. Each of them is covered from head to toe, showing no skin whatsoever. "This day, your training truly begins. You are now our warriors. You are now tasked with guarding our people."

Though nothing changes visually, I can almost feel the pride of my warriors, the pride of their families.

"This day, you offer yourselves to me to make you more than you once were. You will have many teachers. You will have many spells and skills to master. You have a long road before you." Galsa comes running, wrapping her arms around my leg. I pick her up, kissing her brow and holding her close to me. "May you always remember this day as the day you make your ancestors proud. And may wealth beyond measure be ever within your grasp."

The families cheer, their voices filling our cabin, filling our warriors with the hopes and dreams of a bright future.

There's a knock at the door, but the din doesn't ebb. Vy and Dovyn enter, each carrying two full knapsacks of yet more loot.

Two non-combatants come, accepting their burdens and start organizing our things there. Ane starts dishing out orders—the produce goes in that sack, the weapons into this chest, the armours into that chest—all the while holding a grumpy Talare in her arms.

"Ane. You're in charge while we're out. Start teaching our warriors the basics. Conjuration, Bound Dagger and Bound Bow."

"Understood," she murmurs, asking Talare to bring her the bag with books, and to be careful because it's heavy.

"Vy. Dovyn. Scarlet. You're coming with me. It's time to see what Mehra's been up to."

8-8

Down the dozens of stairs, into the underbelly of the tavern; retching netch, strangest name ever.

The sun has already set, so the townsfolk are here in droves, hoping to drown their woes in greef—or whatever their poison is. Mehra is talking to someone by the bar, a woman, but the closed posture and how she has her body turned away from Mehra, it's clear that isn't going anywhere positive.

Disappointed but not yet deterred, Mehra heads over to a table of miners, the six of them sip and offer no more than one or two word answers.

She isn't getting anywhere, because she isn't a people person, or maybe her past works against her.

I walk over to the bar, nodding politely to the barkeep. "Good evening, sera," Scarlet says, bobbing her head. "How's the greef flowing?"

The barkeep, a Dunmerii with faded red hair and a stern look, sighs and shakes his head. "About the same as ever."

One bottle to a table, and everyone sips to make their drink last longer. Purses are too tight for them to truly enjoy their evening.

"Looks to me like everyone's purse is too tight to get drunk," Scarlet says, looking to me to see what I want to do.

"Mehra. How unpleasant to see you! It hasn't been nearly long enough, fetcher!" The whole tavern is filled with laughter and jeers aimed at the head of my guard. That just won't do.

I tap Scarlet's shoulder and we walk over to Mehra and the rude little shit talking down to her.

Mehra's eyes go wide when she spots us, her grey cheeks flushing and her lips pulled tight. "Serjo, I—"

My raised hand quiets her, though all the tavern's patrons go equally silent.

Scarlet comes to my side, leaning in.

"Serjo would hear why insulting the head of her guard is acceptable." Scarlet's voice reverberates through the spacious, subterranean room.

A full minute goes by, the silence growing more and more oppressive with each second.

"Serjo comes with the offer of work and paid passage for you and your families. With the promise of shelter and three square meals a day for you and your families, even if only one of you were to work for her. And this is how you treat Serjo's messenger?"

Most shift in their seats, staring at their drinks.

"Make no mistake. If you were to agree to work for Reydaserjo, you would depend on Mehra Alvos and her sons for your protection. They are the ones in charge of training our spellswords, of safeguarding our people. And frankly, Mehra has earned more of Serjo's trust than every other person in this tavern combined."

Vy elbows me, her eyebrow cocked.

"Other than her chap'thil and myself, of course," Scarlet conveys my words, laughter in her voice. "So. Heedless of what may have been relayed before now. We have need for only four miners, two carpenters, and four stonemasons. You will have to convince Mehra why she should risk her life and the lives of her sons to guard you while in Serjo's employ. And be quick about it. Passage has been booked for first light. And we have no issue leaving without hiring so much as one of you."

With my message properly communicated, I turn and walk right back out, my chap'thil and Scarlet hot on my heels.

As my foot lands on the top stair, "Hey, Mehra! Let me buy you a drink!"

"Your son, is he single? My daughter's quite the beauty, you know!" I smirk, shaking my head.

8-8

"Halt, blacksmith," Scarlet says, motioning for everyone to calm down. The idiot Breton just stormed onto the ship after us, calling out that he needs a word with me. Needless to say, no one took well to his presence or his being so familiar with me.

Every warrior has either a blade unsheathed or an arrow nocked. And my chap'thil have both conjured their daggers, ready to carve the fool a new breathing hole. More interesting, is how Scarlet stands right in the Breton's way. How she balls her fists around the haft of her warhammer, ready to cave in a skull or two.

All non-combatants visibly relax, even the ten families Mehra just barely brought on board. The sailors don't look impressed, but most shrug it off and get back to what they were doing.

"State your business." Scarlet's words are backed by every spellsword-in-training under my command. The night does little to dampen or hide the animosity.

"Glover Mallory's the name," he says, taking a healthy step back and putting his hands up. "I'm the only blacksmith worth a damn in Raven Rock. And I—"

"We have a blacksmith," Scarlet cuts him off.

"That ain't what this is about." Mallory seems annoyed, but really. What was he expecting? "We produce top notch netch leather and chitin plates. I'm aiming to setup a trade agreement."

Scarlet comes to me.

It's an interesting offer, to be sure. But now isn't the time for promises. "Send his offer to Riften."

"Serjo appreciates your offer, but is tired from travel and her duties. Please, if you truly are interested in trade, send your offer to—"

I walk off, knowing he'll get the totality of my message, just as I know he'll be shown off the ship. Besides. It'd be nice to just curl up in bed with Galsa.

8-8

Lying in bed, under the pelts. Vilvyni, Ane, Talare, Galsa, and me, curled up into a tussle of arms going every which way. A cabin fit for four, filled with nearly a hundred. Not to mention the loot and the dozens of bags filled with ash Ane sent a few of our warriors out to collect.

It should feel stifling, constricting in the worst way. All I really care about is Galsa's gentle snoring, and how Dovyn and Scarlet make themselves right at home to my bedside, ready to guard me from everyone.

Tired as I am, sleep just won't come. The rocking has gotten more noticeable in the last minutes. We've launched—or whatever you call leaving port on a boat.

Cylben will come looking for me—I know he will. I just need to make sure there are clues for him to find. Raven Rock has clues. I'll need to figure out a way for Windhelm to have a clue or two as well. Maybe a trip to Blacklight?

Sigh. What I wouldn't give for him to find me.

"Can't sleep?" Vy keeps her voice down, but I hear the concern all the same.

I shake my head, no.

"You're thinking about him."

I nod, tears welling up in my eyes.

"He's the real reason we came to Solstheim?"

I nod. No point in denying it. No matter what else I accomplished…

"So. Next trip is Blacklight, huh."

My shoulders and chest shiver, no matter how I hold back my laughter.

"I was thinking." She snakes an arm around me, tugging me so I lay my head on her shoulder. "Since Ane wants to study Restoration? Would you be okay with taking her as your Healer?"

"Hmm." I smile, letting her hear that I like the idea and nodding anyway.

"I'll make arrangements for her when we get back."

I nod, agreeing that she should.

"I… may have pestered Scarlet to get mostly Restoration spells… maybe."

I giggle, shaking my head. "Good. Have Ane teach those spells to our non-combatants."

"Will do. We'll handle everyone's training. So I want you to rest."

A yawn catches me by surprise, teasing a chuckle from Vy.

"See. You're tired." She presses a kiss to my brow. "Sleep. I'll wake you."

8-8

Walking around on deck, I see the most curious of sights. Vy casts a fireball out at the sea, and ten archers rain arrows down on it, trying to turn the spell into a pincushion.

I blink.

Vy casts another fireball, and the archers scramble to loose their ethereal arrows at it.

I blink.

Vy casts another.

That's one way to maximize training.

"Alma?" I look down, smiling at Galsa as she peers up at me. She raises her hands, wordlessly asking me to pick her up. I beam, scooping her up and kissing her. "Are you gonna leave me?"

I jerk back, as if struck by her words.

"Do you want me to?" I ask, tears stinging my eyes.

She shakes her head violently, no.

"Do you want to stay with me?"

She nods, tearing up.

"I want you to stay with me, too." I kiss her again, gently nudging her to lay her head on my shoulder. She buries her little face in the nape of my neck, her breath warm against the icy chill of the salty air. "I love you, Galsa. And alma will always take care of you, okay?"

She nods, her warm tears streaking down my neck.

8-8

Stepping up onto the docks of Windhelm, I find only grey skies and busy deckhands about. The trip was pretty uneventful—I slept through most of it.

Now? Now my people are in motion, and attracting quite a few curious glances as we unload our goods. Everyone holds a bag, though some of the men pair up and stack chests atop each other, and grab the lowest one by the handles, hoisting them up onto the dock.

Like Ane and me, all the mothers gather their children, holding the youngest in our arms, and we all make our way up—Scarlet and Vy holding me to steady me.

I make sure to bow to the captain, to thank him—he bows in kind, his eyes lit up for some reason.

"It was a pleasure to have you aboard the Northern Maiden, Lady Reyda. I do hope you'll sail with us again someday."

Touched as I am, a bow is all he gets from me.

It's slow going, but we lug our things up nearly a hundred stone stairs, up to the city proper, but we don't linger—not yet. We travel over snow-clad stone, between row after row of chiselled houses of all sizes.

The crowd—mostly Nords—stare. Some with contempt, accompanied by murmurs of 'elf' and other slangs and slings. Others with confusion—whether for the sheer number, the children traveling with us, or that my group makes a clear barrier around me, thereby marking me as the leader.

But it's the Dunmeri that draw my attention, and my curiosity. Their gazes drink in those around me, the chitin and bonemold armours, the elven blades, even how Vy and Dovyn shadow me. A few of the Dunmeri women stare at Galsa, who decides to hide her little face in my neck, obviously hating the attention.

A soft kiss, pressed to Galsa's temple. My hand massages her little back, to set her at ease. Still, her grip on me tells me she doesn't want me to let her go.

"Our group is too large to fit on the carriage." Scarlet's words send a shockwave through the crowd. Apparently, to even consider paying for travel is a luxury. "By Mehra's estimation, it would take at least three trips. What do you wish to do, Serjo?"

Day and a half to get here. Two days to, two days on, and two days from Solstheim. We need to make it to Riften in a day and a half, max. That's our nine day budget. It's too early in the game to show Frey that we can use Mark and Recall, so we need to all head out together. Damn, and I was hoping to leave clues.

"Time is against us. We load our things and the children onto the carriage, everyone that cannot fit, walks behind it."

"Perhaps we could inquire about buying a few horses as well?" Scarlet asks. A bit extravagant, but it certainly has the crowd scraping their jaws up out of the snow.

Hmm. This trip has been expensive beyond belief, and while we will need horses regardless, it's just not something I can justify as yet.

I shake my head, no. "Funds better spent on renovations."

With little more than a nod, Scarlet heads off over to Mehra, no doubt to start making plans.

Through the doors we go, over the almost comically oversized bridge—if there were a drawbridge, it would at least have defensible reasoning. As is, this is little more than a statement of power.

Over to the stable and the carriage for hire parked a stone's throw from it. Mehra starts negotiating something with the driver, whose eyes roam over the sizable crowd. This is a different one from last time, not surprisingly.

"Alright! Chests and bags up onto the wagon!" Mehra belts out, jumping up onto the simple, open air carriage. Everyone starts handing her their bags and she stacks them best she can. Once our things are stowed, she starts calling for the children, with their mothers.

"Serjo." Scarlet beckons to me. I roll my eyes, but don't fight her. She and Vy help me up into the carriage, and help me settle in comfortably. Ane is seated beside me—the only one close enough to accidently touch me.

It's a bit of a squeeze, but we make the most of it.

"It's alright, Ser," Ane murmurs, gently tugging my head towards her shoulder. "Rest. I'll be sure to wake you."

8-8

"How long has she been like this?"

"Few weeks. And it's been steadily getting worse."

"I see."

"Please do not speak your suspicions. She is under winolalvios, and she will not take the news well."

"How long could she remain oblivious, sera?"

"I…don't know."

"She has a handmaiden?"

"She isn't the type to let anyone do everything for her. We have enough trouble keeping her out of combat."

"Then it is time she starts thinking about her Galsa."

"She'd just bring her into the thick of it, and believe she could fight her way out regardless."

"That…"

"She was shot by an arrow and didn't even notice."

"I believe it."

"What if…hey. You're an experienced mother, right?"

"Provided my children stay with me, I will gladly serve Silvarkhan wherever she goes."

"Good."

8-8

We arrive at the gates to Riften going on noon. It's day nine. As long as we make it to Riftweald Manor by sunset, it's a win in my eyes.

Scarlet and Ane thank the driver profusely, while Mehra starts organizing our…My people. My warriors, my workers, and my citizens.

Galsa mumbles something incoherent as she slumbers, her nose rubbing against my neck and her grip tightening for no apparent reason. I kiss her and murmur that I love her and sweet dreams.

With short, jerky steps, I work out the kinks of sitting uncomfortably for the last day and a half. Vy and Ane flank me, for some reason, with each having a hand on my side to steady me. Dovyn waits at the foot of the carriage with Scarlet, and together they help me down.

Once steady on my feet, we gather everyone and everything over to one side, so the driver can leave if he so desires. Mehra comes to me, questions in her eyes.

"The plan is simple," I begin, murmuring to only those closest to me can hear—and so Galsa won't wake up before she's ready. "Vilvyni and Dovyn have selected extra guards. You will take all others to Faldar's Tooth, along with our haul. We will come tomorrow to start organizing. Until then, you are personally in charge of getting everyone settled in."

"As you command, Serjo." Mehra bows, heading off to see to our people. Curiously, six of our warriors are standing at attention nearby—along with their mothers, and younger siblings. I now have three handmaidens, it would seem.

Everyone meant to head to Faldar's Tooth turn to face me, bowing low. I nod, smiling brightly for them.

With little else to do, we head into Riften. The guards take one look at us, before their eyes go wide at the sight of the Dunmeri armours of our new guards. They eye my people's elven weaponry, the full quivers of elven arrows.

Still, they let us in and we head Riftweald's rear entrance. We head right upstairs, and put our knapsacks—you know, the ones I'm suddenly forbidden to carry—in our room, along with the extra bedrolls we scored.

Sofie and Ulen go out of their way to welcome me back, and Sofie squeals at being introduced to Talare and a still sleeping Galsa.

Cute as it all is, I need something confirmed. I'm tired of my curiosity not being sated. "Scarlet. I need you to go to the Maran temple. Talk to Dinya. I need a private meeting as soon as possible."

Everyone looks nervous. I nod, having suspected as much.

"No way! Serjo's gonna have a baby!" Sofie has no tact. I groan, rolling my eyes up to the heavens. "Best! Day! Ever!"

8-8

Staring dead ahead, eyes out of focus. Words are spoken, though none seep through the haze.

Two words loop through my whole world.

Congratulations.

Pregnant.

I'm. I'm pregnant. I'm with child. Cylben's baby grows inside me. I'm going to be a mother…

That heartless fetcher! I'm gonna kill him! Getting me fucking pregnant and then leaving me alone for…

No. It's Frey I need to kill. There's no way in Oblivion I'm letting him hold me or my babies…

And what about Meridia? I need to…

But I need…

Fuck.

FUCK!

FU~UUUUUUUCK!

Arms wrap around me. I'm scooped up and carefully sat in a chair. More words are spoken. Warmth against my face, my cheeks are cupped.

"Fuck."

"It's alright, Ser." Arms wrap around me. "It's alright. I've got you."

"Fuck."

"Shh shh shh shh shh. Just let it out."

"Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck."

"Well. That too, I guess."

"Fuck you."

Vy laughs, holding me a little tighter. "I know it doesn't feel like it, not right now. But I promise you, Reyda. It's gonna be alright. We're gonna make this alright. For you, for Sofie, for Galsa, and for your baby."

I hold her so tight, my whole world quaking.

"Fuck."

"It's alright, ser. I've got you. We're not leaving you. You're not going to be alone through this. I swear it on my ancestors."

Cylben might not even find me before…"Fuck."

8-8

Before the hearth. Tongues of flame dance to the fire's crackles. Galsa asleep in my arms. Ane seated beside me, Talare asleep in hers.

With the official confirmation in hand, Vy and Dovyn sent word to Faldar's Tooth. Suddenly, six extra guards aren't enough. As I understand it, there are two stationed by the front door, two by the back door, two by the front balcony, two by the back balcony, and four outside my bedroom door.

As if that isn't enough, there are an additional ten in house so they can take shifts. All women, too. 'So there is nothing to complain about,' being the exact wording of my chap'thil.

There are also now eight handmaidens going about every room and seeing to every little thing. Ulen has been assigned as the butler, so he's in charge of keeping the entire manor in top shape at all times.

And what's more? Everyone other than Talare and Galsa is armed to the teeth—Dovyn's first order of business, of course.

The room is filled with the snores of my people and the waxing and waning of the footfalls of the guard keeping every iota of the manor under surveillance.

It's odd. Surrounded by virtual strangers, I am more at ease.

A knock at the door. "Serjo? You have a guest. Thane Mercer Frey. Ulen says you may be willing to see this one."

"See him in," I say and the footsteps retreat. Not a minute later, the door is opened, and Frey enters. His eyes are narrowed and his shoulders tense. "Forgive the break in tradition. The guards are not yet accustomed to their roles. I shall see that they are made aware of your position."

"…" His eyes widen as he works his mouth, but the words do not come.

"I fear things have changed drastically. It is why I've asked you here with such haste."

His eyes narrow, studying Vy and Dovyn standing behind me, and Scarlet sitting on our bed reading a new spellbook.

"Dinya Balu, the priestess of Mara, has confirmed that I am…I'm pregnant." My voice breaks, no matter how I try to stifle the emotions. "As such, my chap'thil demand a proper guard for me."

Frey closes his eyes, seemingly thinking about it.

"There's more, I'm afraid. Two conflicting traditions are now in play." I focus on the dancing flames, no longer caring what his reaction is or will be. "Under winolalvios I am forbidden to contact my muthsera's family for any reason. However, my pregnancy demands I make peace with any gods I might have angered, and gather his sisters to me so that house traditions may be observed."

"I see." No, you don't. You don't have a clue just how utterly fucked my life has become.

Sigh. "That means I must make amends with the Deadric Prince Meridia, see that her temple is purged without fail. And I must make haste to Blacklight to track down my muthsera's sisters, though preferably his mother as well." Sigh. The timing of all this is fucking with everything.

"As I understand it. Meridia's temple is near Solitude. That's two days travel away. We should be gone for no more than five days dealing with that. Seeing as Riften is closer to Morrowind and has the best trade route, we'll need to come back here and prepare for that trip. It's a week and a half one-way to Blacklight. I should find what we seek within a week of being there."

"Is that so?"

"Mm." I nod. "I've spoken to Riftkhan. Informed her of the trade proposals that should start coming in from Solstheim. She guarantees me that if I were to arrange such a potent trade deal with Blacklight, the title of thane is assured."

"The one thing Maven can't do." His laughter fills the room. "For all her connections in Cyrodiil, Morrowind is it?"

I see. So he means to humiliate Black-Briar. That's why he needs me as thane.

"Oh my dear, sweet Reyda." My lip twitches up into a sneer. "This is almost too perfect for words."

Tongues of flame dance to the beat of the crackling fire. Once again, the room is filled only with snoring and the waxing and waning footfalls of my people on patrol. Frey doesn't even notice none in this house are loyal to him, or he doesn't care.

My hand rubs Galsa's little back in slow, deliberate circles to calm me down.

"I'm curious how you'll spin this to your advantage. The five days to Solitude, granted. And I'll agree to a three-month return trip to Blacklight, provided you have at least one healer here."

"It will be done."

"As well." I frown. It's never enough. For a thief like you, enough is never enough, is it. "You must return with a symbol of power. Something uniquely Dunmer. Something that will show of your status within the Dunmer community."

"Hmm." What would he know about that? I could return with a lump of coal and tell tall tales about it, he wouldn't have much of a choice but to believe me. "Something Riftkhan would believe symbolizes status, or the Dunmeri of the Rift?"

"Both." Of course. He turns and leaves. My guard shakes her head, muttering about disrespectful n'wahs as she closes the door.

8-8

Step by step, ever upwards, ever towards a migraine I'd rather never deal with. My feet thud against the uncaring stone, the staccato mixing with those that follow me.

Sofie decided she'd rather chew stones that remain in Riftweald—I haven't the heart to blame her. Doubly so, since Ane and I both refuse to stay there, and we refuse to let Galsa and Talare out of our sight.

We make it up to the highest floor of the tallest tower. And over to the chest that contains the one thing I wish we'd never found.

With a creak and a groan, the gem comes into view once again.

No point in delaying the inevitable. I reach in, grabbing the chunk of a gem.

"So you finally noticed, mortal."

"It's nice to see you, too."

A snort ripples through my skull. "You lie as well as you take orders."

"So. Mount Kilkreath. Temple. Necro you need dead. I assume you will leave my child out of your scheming for this?"

"I am the Lady of Life, not death. I wouldn't have harmed your child regardless."

"So Daedric Princes don't get petty when the mood suits them?"

"I do not. If you had—"

"Obeyed like a good little slave?" She sighs. "What you Daedra forget is that it doesn't matter what kills us. Death adds up to the same thing in the end."

"And what you forget, is that who you serve in life dictates which realm of death you will be allotted."

"We're going to have these little debates a lot. Aren't we."

"The thought has crossed my mind, yes. But that will come in time. Now shoo, and take my beacon with you."

8-8

End Chapter 8

8-8

A/N: This is where things get...complicated.