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 9—of Life and Death

8-8

Our first stop. Of all the places on Nirn, Ivarstead is the first stop on the way out of The Rift. I right my silver and sapphire circlet, my leather gloves feeling warm against my forehead.

"We stay at the inn for the night." I look at the still brightly lit sky, wondering about this. "We take the pass through the mountain at first light. Don't nobody wanna be caught on that pass in the dark. No sirree."

Vilvyni and Scarlet help me down from the wagon, and we stroll over to the Vilemyr Inn, with Lynly singing and strumming her lute. Dovyn opens the door, walking in and holding it open for me—Vy escorts me in like I'm some sort of royalty. Wilhelm takes one look at us, at me, and grumbles for us to have a seat, that someone'll come by to take our order.

Either that oaf doesn't bother to look, or I look so different that none would look past my outfit to see if there's a familiar face lurking behind it.

Or is it that they just didn't bother to know me in the first place? Who knows, or cares.

Our supper is ordered just as the door swings open. Wide-arm walks in, her axe slung over her shoulder, per the norm. She takes one look at us, skins up her nose and walks over to a different table.

I see. The woman I used to be…she no longer exists. A snuffed out candle, with little more than smoke to mark her passing.

Didn't like it here anyway.

8-8

The carriage rocks gently to and fro to the thocking of hoof on dirt. The trees have gone from the light-bark birch of the Rift and Whiterun to the snow-clad dark-bark cedars of Haafingar. All through this trip, I've been gathering my ingredients. We just need an adept at pottery, to make all the pots we'll need for planting—continually buying them will get expensive sooner rather than later.

Vy and Dovyn discarded any notion of 'I can handle this', so while Sofie is playing some kind of hand-clapping game with Talare to the cheering of Galsa, they are surrounded by my usual three, four of our chitin-clad archers, and two bonemold-clad greatsword-wielders. With me, that makes ten. Ten warriors—I hope it'll be enough for one necromancer.

What can I do but sigh and continue spying the plethora of ingredients I can telekinetically pluck from my perch.

Ooh, juniper berries!

I cast Telekinesis and pluck as many of them as I can see, stuffing them in my already three quarter full knapsack.

"Alma?" I stuff the last berry in and turn my full attention to Galsa. She rubs her eye with one hand, holding her doll a little tight to not drop her. I scoop her up and plop her in my lap, pressing a kiss to her brow.

A mighty yawn escapes her as she continues rubbing her eye.

"Os daelhag ohn, alma," she murmurs and plops her head against my chest.

"I love you, Galsa," I murmur right back, kissing her crown repeatedly and wrapping her nice and snug in my arms. She lets loose a sniffled sigh, rubbing her nose against my jacket. "Sweet dreams."

Hmm. The sun is low on the horizon. We'll probably stop soon.

We continue on for another half hour, before the driver calls out that we'll be stopping for the night. We pull off the road near a bridge, the lights of a town in the distance becoming more and more obvious as the light dims.

"I was 'oping to reach Dragon Bridge by now." The driver's words reek of fear, though for the life of me I can't figure out why. The bridge is pretty small, so this obviously isn't the bridge he means. Not that it matters.

Though Solitude is a half-day's travel yet, I can see it nestled against the mountain in the distance. The walls are all lit up, and the Blue Palace even more so—peeking up over a cairn, as if the landmark was set for that purpose.

How strange. The worst thing I've ever suffered through—being kidnapped and held against my will—consistently leads to the most fulfilling things I've ever experienced. I swear, if Cylben were here with me, I wouldn't even care about Frey and his petulance.

And I really need to get Galsa into a healthy rhythm. She and the others have already been through so much. Well. Mehra has orders to scout the area for needed resources and to put our miners to work. And the stonemasons are meant to present a proposal for the renovation of Faldar's Tooth—including a village to house everyone while the fort is made unlivable. With a little luck, things should be well under way by the time we get back from Blacklight.

"Silvarkhan?" I smile for my handmaiden, accepting the jerked meat and half loaf of bread she offers. It takes some effort, but I wake Galsa and we share in our meagre meal. Once we've both eaten our fill, the tea we'd steeped before leaving Riften is poured for everyone, as chilled as the air around us.

It's horrid. The bread is a bit stale, the meat is tough and salty and bland, and the tea is purposely too weak. Ane was quite insistent on every detail of it, for some reason.

We'd best restock in Solitude before heading back. And we really need to come up with a better plan for the trip to Blacklight. I'm not sure I can stomach this for that long.

8-8

A scream. I jerk awake to the sound of bows thwanging and arrows lodged into armour. Galsa holds me tight, her tears burning into my skin in the worst way—I hate how she trembles, how she fears.

"Nock!" Scarlet orders, our warriors nock a new arrow just as I stand in the wagon. "Draw!" More silhouettes cross the river down the way, hunched down as if simple beasts. "Loose!" Eight arrows fly, finding home in the silhouettes.

"Hold on tight. Mama wants her baby right here with her, okay?" I walk to the end of the wagon, with Galsa holding on so tight I don't even have to hold her. I craft Telekinesis, jerking limbs forward and tripping the silhouettes up in their dash for my people. Vy and Dovyn almost fly to me, bows in hand and glowing in the night.

"Nock!" Scarlet keeps up her role, and our warriors follow command without fail. But they aren't marksmen, not by any stretch. I conjure my bow, take a ready stance, and nock my arrow. I loose, nock, and draw.

Over and over and over, every time a silhouette moves, I treat it to an arrow of its very own. When no more movement catches my eye, I cast Detect life, finding only retreating reds, with a curious blue and screams to be saved.

"Serjo! They have Ane and Talare!" Scarlet gives me the worst news of my life.

Vy helps me down onto the dirt. Her eyes are drawn, no doubt in tears for not protecting them. I cup her cheek, unsurprised with the moisture I find. I cast Detect life, seeing the reds moving further and further away.

So much bullshit for such a short trip.

I stroll out into the night, unsurprised all our warriors follow. I pace myself, not wanting to be winded when we get there.

We move, cross the river, through an unoccupied camp. Each time I cast Detect Life, I find more and more reds up ahead. The growling and howling tells me there are bears—perhaps two or three.

I conjure my bow, but don't nock as yet. Further and further into the unforgiving night.

Movement.

I case Detect Life. Spiders.

Nock, draw, and loose, the dying screech assaults the silence, and suddenly a dozen spiders, each as large as me, are in a frenzy. A grizzled howl, the bears don't like the action in their territory, so they come as well. Stupid bears.

A glob of fire flashes out into the night, lighting up the scene. Three pairs of glowing eyes, and five asshole spiders with their multifaceted shitfaces. Taking full advantage, I loose arrow after arrow, using the light as best I can. Vilvyni fires another glob of fire when the first explodes in a bear's face, obviously noticing I could use the light.

I just keep loosing and loosing and loosing. Not one of our warriors gets off a shot before the last of the assholes is in their death throes. And we just keep on moving, not even breaking stride.

Detect Life. The red silhouette of whatever took my people retreats, the blue of Ane and Talare still with them. They're too far. If I loose an arrow, I risk hitting my own. So we follow. Right up into a cave's mouth, the air in there stinking of spiders and stale water and death.

One foot in front of the other, into a cave no one would want to enter. I keep following the blue, my precious people.

Down a corridor with ankle-high still waters. There's no movement to be seen, but every time the spell casts, I see the retreating blue and the provisionally breathing reds taking them. Talare's screaming echoes, grating on my every nerve—how fucking dare those shits take her from us.

More spiders come, but they barely notice us before they get a taste of my arrows.

A wide cavern. There's dozens of glowing mushrooms here, lending an eerie glow to the place. I see one of the bastards up on a ledge, and lodge an arrow in its face. A war-grunt goes up, and the other reds come flooding back towards us.

They jump down trying to get to us faster, spiders coming at us all the same. Unfortunately for them, the glow is enough.

Enough that I see their sickly pale faces, their helmets covering their eyes, their mouths open as they point their malformed blades at us.

"Vy. Dovyn. Focus on the spiders. I'll deal with them." Galsa holds me even tighter as I nock another arrow and lodge it in the nearest asshat's mouth.

The cavern is filled with the thwang of arrowfire, as more and more of those…things come rushing us. They know they will die, that means they guard whatever is back there—their home, no doubt.

It takes less than a minute before silence returns. Detect life reveals only two blues just a little deeper in. "Vy. Your girls await."

Not needing to be told twice, my chap'thiil dashes ahead, with Dovyn hot on her heels. I take my time, sauntering behind them and just holding Galsa, peppering her with kisses to show she's perfectly safe.

My warriors form a barrier around me, Scarlet at my side, her eyes smiling ever brighter. It's but a moment later that my chap'thil are before me, Vy holding Talare and Ane like she'd never see them again.

"I'm sorry, Serjo, I—"

"You've done nothing wrong," I say, my tone as soothing as possible given I'm still plenty pissed. "Vilvyni. Your girls are safe, but our vengeance is but half meted out. You and Dovyn will take half our warriors with you. Do as your darker impulses would demand."

"What about you, Ser?" Dovyn asks.

"I'm going back to the wagon. Scarlet and the others will come with me. I will tolerate not so much as a scratch on any of you. And if you find slaves, you're permitted to claim them in my name."

The siblings grin, their eyes glowing with vindication.

"And Vy." I turn, ready to leave. "Ensure that you tuck your girls in properly when you get back. They've had a horrid night, they do not need to worry for your safety on top of it all."

8-8

Breakfast the next morning finds us in a much happier mood. Talare clings to her mothers, unwilling to not have one of them holding her at all times, but everyone is far more at ease. Our warriors, all Dunmeri women, go out of their way to dote on me and Galsa. They no doubt realized that all people under my command are under my protection—and they've seen firsthand just what that really means.

A Dunmerii silverette, in her teens from the look of her, keeps staring at me, her eyes wide with fear. Vy informed me everything else with a pulse in that place is no longer counted among the living—she seemed quite pleased when she told me there were a few Aldmerii down there. And she was even more pleased when she said she gutted them as they screamed and begged to serve me. I need to do something nice for her.

Even Sofie is so much more at ease, for some reason.

"What's your name?" Sofie asks the new addition. The silverette opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. "It's alright. If you're here, that means you're under Serjo's protection. So no one's gonna hurt you, I promise." Sofie hands the girl some jerked pork, and a goblet with tea.

The silverette stares at her hands, at the food and drink she's offered. "Iv…Iveri," she manages. "My name is. Iveri."

"Well, Iveri. Eat up," Sofie says, smiling even as she bites into her breakfast.

We set out not a half hour later, after everyone's seen to their needs—under full guard this time, not willing to take any more risks. I love how Vy and Scarlet insist on 'full guard', when they've not let me do much of anything without at least six fully armed warriors within a hair's breadth of me.

The gentle rocking of the wagon almost sets me back to sleep, but Ane keeps prodding me, trying to start a conversation.

"Really, Serjo. This is important." I shake myself awake, or as awake as my situation will allow. "You need a nursemaid. And Sofie isn't against it."

I roll my eyes, knowing just what that is supposed to mean—Sofie would be charged with making me climax on a daily basis. Or as needed, seeing as my body's been craving it. She's a child, though. Children shouldn't be given tasks like that, no matter how willing.

"You need someone to help raise Galsa, don't you?"

I blink, and cock an eyebrow.

"Serjo, really. You need someone to hold her if you're firing your bow? Or if you're casting spells? Or if you just want to get some sleep? Sleep is something you desperately need, isn't it?"

I laugh, throwing my head back as the absurdity hits me. She simply has no idea how things really work, does she.

8-8

"Only one may enter the temple." Meridia is, once again, being an absolute dick. You'd think with the beautiful view of the snow-clad mountains and forest around us, with the perfectly chiselled stone forming the most gorgeous statue and her beacon's receptacle glowing bright as the white-ish gem besets it once again, someone as vast and wise as a Daedric Prince would chill the fuck out. But then, Meridia's been nothing if not consistent with me.

"You said you want this necromancer dead," I deadpan.

"Yes. And only one powerful enough stands a chance. Your people are weak, unfitting. Only the strong may serve me."

"Alright. How about this. Convince my chap'thil that I'm going without them, and I'll agree."

"They answer to you, I do not. You will enter alone, or you will not enter."

"Well. I tried," I say, shrug, and turn heel, walking away from the altar of her oversized ego.

A sigh follows me. "Reyda. I am trying to save their lives. Not one of them is strong enough to withstand the might of that foul demon."

"And just your luck, I'm pregnant. What are the odds of me battling that strong a foe and remaining so?"

"Because I will safeguard your child."

"Strong enough to keep my child safe, not strong enough to purge her own temple."

"I am more than…" Another sigh. "Reyda. Has it ever occurred to your limitless ignorance that there is more going on here than you know?"

"Has it occurred to you that I agree solely for the sake of my child?"

"When those wretches stole your servant from you." I freeze. "When you entered the cave. Who was the protector? Them? Or you?"

"You miss the point."

"Do I? Or is it you who misses the point? I sense their power, their potential. Beside you, they are as candles lit at mid-summer's noon. They wouldn't even be able to power my beacons inside, which would amplify my power to keep you safe. If they enter with you, it is them who endanger your child."

"Give me one good reason."

"One. Aiding me now will grant you Dawnbreaker. A symbol of power that you need to prove yourself to your muthsera's house."

Sigh.

"Two. In wielding Dawnbreaker, your telekinetic potential is brought to the surface and magnified. Meaning you would possess a power even they would respect."

My face goes slack.

"Three. I would guide him to you. Ensure you are reunited before you give birth to a healthy baby girl."

My hand rubs my abdomen, right where my baby grows inside me.

"Do as I ask, Reyda."

The shit I go through for that man. "Everyone. Wait here. I'll be back soon." I veer off to the left, not even looking back as I make my way down the path, round the building, to two large stone doors I somehow knew would be here.

Sigh. Hands on either side of the divide.

This is for Cylben.

This is for our daughter.

This is for the future I never dared dream of.

I push.

8-8

I'm gonna die.

I'm sooooo gonna fucking die.

I don't get it. Everything up until this last room was simplicity itself. The supposed puzzle to get to each beacon? Child's play. Those ghost-like things? Sniped them off before they even spotted me. Hell, even the asshole standing in there was easy to snipe, since I saw him before he saw me.

The one thing I didn't expect? The one fucking thing. Was necro-asshole somehow resurrecting himself, and his fucking wraith spamming those ice blasts like I spam arrows.

If I didn't slip into a nook in the corridor, just barely large enough to fit me, I'd have died from the first blast—and that was almost a half hour ago.

Meridia was right about one thing—none of my people would have survived this. Not one. Even if Galsa was here, frostbite would have fucked her up by now.

And those fucking blasts! Every other second! Every. Other. Damned. Second. Constantly. For the last half hour. Does he have an unlimited supply of magicka? What the actual fuck!

Another blast, the air around me so cold I'm breathing smoke. I cast Detect Life, finding nothing. Uh, right—he's no longer alive. The asshole.

I sigh as another blast blazes past.

I reach into my dress, grabbing the pendant Cylben gave me. "Cylben." His name rolls off the tongue, even now. Especially now.

Another blast.

"I dunno if I'll get through this, Cylben."

Three blasts back to back. This asshole just doesn't run out of magicka.

"Cylben." Over and over, I keep muttering his name. Tears run down my face, knowing that one misstep right now would cost me my baby, maybe even my life. "Cylben."

Light. A warmth fills me as my magicka pours into the amulet. A silhouette appears before me, with scarlet eyes and a deep scowl. I clasp the amulet tighter, my free hand over my womb to protect my baby best I can.

Those eyes, they follow my hand, stare at my belly. And the silhouette lets loose an enraged cry like I've never heard, storming towards the necromancer.

Claps of thunder and huffs of spellflame fill the air, the bursts of cold suddenly halted.

Detect Life shows nothing. Whatever it is, there's no life near me. And yet, not a minute later, the same silhouette comes back, stops right in front of me.

Those eyes. A gaze the seeps into my very bones. Dunmerii, no doubt in my mind, but what does this one want with me? Why is that gaze so focused on my hand, on my baby?

Hands raise, palms seemingly empty to show they mean no harm. A step closer. I can't back up any more, I should be panicked. But there's something about this one, something familiar.

The silhouette…the nightmarishly familiar silhouette taps the amulet Cylben gave me.

He leans in, so close our noses touch. His beet red eyes light up with a thousand different emotions—all vying to steal the air from my lungs. He looks like he wants to kiss me, to start me up once again.

He flicks my nose.

No.

No…

No. No. No no no no nonononononono.

Rivers flow down my cheeks, down my trembling jaw.

"Cyl…"

"Serjo!"

"Ser! Where in Oblivion is she?"

The silhouette evaporates, sucked into the amulet, taking my ability to stand right along with it.

"Cylben."

Thundering footsteps, like a stampede. A flash of blues. Red eyes, wide with shock. Warm hands cupping my cheek, drying my tears.

I stand, eyes out of focus as I stumble down the corridor. Into the room, where the necromancer lies. To the back of the room is a pedestal, with a glowing light.

My hand wraps around it, feeling the warmth of life teeming within. Pull. Up, up, and out of the pedestal. It's a sword, I think.

"And so, our contract is complete. Do with Dawnbreaker as you please."

The temptation to drive this fucking blade through my own heart sears in my skull. Arms are around my middle before I blink, holding me, steadying me. "Reyda. Reyda. Please, say something, Reydaserjo."

"Cyl…Cylben…my Cylben."

8-8

A dark corner. The room is full of people. A plate of food sits before me. We're in some tavern, in some city. Somewhere.

Somewhere.

"Serjo. You need to eat." My nose points at the speaker, but my eyes just won't focus. "Come on, think of the—Ow! What was that for?"

My baby. My Galsa and my baby. They need me to eat, to grow strong.

I blink, the chowder comes into focus. I take the wooden spoon and—

"Alma?" Little hands tug at my sleeve. A mess of silver hair. Bright little eyes weighed down and teary. I scoop her up, set her on my lap. She fusses and wriggles, moving around so she faces me and cup my cheeks. "Don't cry, alma."

My cheeks puff up, trying to pill my lips up into a smile.

I grab the spoon, ladle what I can stomach into my mouth and chew. Over and over, until I scrape the bottom of the wooden bowl. Someone takes the spoon from me, obviously deeming me a complete fuckwit.

"Here." My hand is wrapped around a goblet. I point my nose at the speaker, quirking my lips up into as much of a smile as I can offer. I bring cup to lips, slurping in the cold tea as best I can. When empty, it's taken from me.

Taken, just like—

I stand, holding Galsa against me so she doesn't risk falling and hurting herself. Vy and Scarlet are quick to guide me to our room for the night.

"Are you…alright, Serjo?" Ane asks the second the door closes behind us, her eyes worried.

"I'm fine. Just…No. I'm fine. My muthsera's fine—he has to be." I shake my head to clear the cobwebs, pressing a dry kiss to Galsa's brow. My baby girl…my girls. I sit on the bed and let Galsa hold me for as long as she wants, as tight as she wants."Meridia said we're having a daughter. I mean, she lied about that, so maybe this's also a lie. But what do you think about Mireli?"

Ane and Vy share a look, their brows furrowed as they regard me. "It's a lovely name, Ser," Ane says, her smile a bit strained.

"I think so," I say, looking down at Galsa. Something about the indulgence in their eyes rubs me the wrong way. It shouldn't—nothing's the matter, after all. But it's just too much all the same.

"Alma?" Galsa pulls back, her eyes wide and teary. "Don't cry, alma. Please don't cry." Her little hands cup my cheeks and wipe my tears away. Why am I crying? Nothing's wrong. Nothing. Nothing's wrong.

"It's alright, baby. Alma's just tired. Do you think alma should take a nap?" Galsa nods.

8-8

Sleep doesn't come. No matter how tired I am, no matter how Galsa's snoring lulls me. Sleep hates me.

Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is that silhouette. The form of my Cylben, his eyes, his mannerisms. His protectiveness of me—even though I could kick his ass.

But no. It can't be. It has to have been Meridia playing tricks on me. Meridia must be tricking me. After all, she knows of what happened in the cave—even though I didn't know those were Falmer…

No, she's wrong. She's wrong. She has to be wrong. Cylben wouldn't leave me, not when I need him most.

"Can't sleep, Ser?" My eyes flutter open, finding—what's her name? The silverette.

"No. Sleep seems to hate me," I say, biting back a sigh. My fingers comb through Galsa's hair, her gentle snores soothing me. Iveri, that's her name. Iveri…something. "What about you?"

Iveri sits in a chair, in the corner, away from us. Her ruby eyes staring at nothing in particular. "I…Thank you, Reydaserjo. If not for you, I…"

"You have nightmares." My words come out cold, lifeless. "Scenes that plague you every time you close your eyes."

Vy stands at the door, staring at nothing in particular.

"Does," Iveri clutches her dress, bunching the fabric and wrinkling it, "it get easier?"

Figuring sleep won't come, and that company is always more preferable, I sit up and ease back against the headboard. "The first time I saw a wolf I was," hmm, it was long ago, "young. Don't remember how young. All I had on me was a dagger, and here comes this wild beast. No one around to save me. Just me and her."

"Her?"

"Mm. A mother and two pups. She must have decided I was the perfect prey to teach how to hunt, or something." Galsa turns, her legs flopping into my lap and her hands clapping Ane's face, waking her—poor thing. I cast Telekinesis, tumbling Galsa into my lap, and she curls up into a ball. "Don't remember how I survived, but I remember those nightmares well. Seeing the mother and her two pups that I killed."

I snort, shaking my head. "It sounds trivial now, but at the time, it was," shaking my head, I chase the familiar demons, "it was too much. It didn't stop bothering me until I talked to a friend about it. And that took months."

Iveri chuckles, dry and lifeless. "Talk about it? What good would…?" She shakes her head, her face slack and her eyes fearful. "Forgive me, Serjo, I—"

A yawn catches me by surprise. "Mm." My eyelids feel heavy for some reason. "Maybe it'll help you. Maybe it won't. The true question? What harm could come from speaking of it to someone you trust?"

8-8

There's no need to feel guilty, Reyda. You've done nothing wrong. At all. Cylben's fine, after all. So why feel guilty for wanting to take a few hours in Solitude to shop around?

Iveri packs the sets of fine clothes, fine gloves, and fine boots into the knapsack atop the range of children's clothing we already bought, while Scarlet pays the…clerk. If there were any other clothier in Solitude, we certainly would have gone there—the n'wahs.

At any rate, we have what we need and we no longer need to interact with those fetchers. Once outside, and no longer in their unbearable stink, the hubbub of the city washes over me. Children squealing and running around, no doubt playing tag. The city guard patrol, giving us constant side-long glances, as if only waiting a reason to be the asses they clearly are.

The buildings are so tall here, with the castle dour looming higher still. The plastered stone so smooth, you'd think it silk. This place is as paradise compared to everything I know of the Rift.

Vy offers Ane and I her elbows, to escort us. I shake my head, no. Vy's eyes narrow as her head jerks back ever so slightly—the unasked 'why' made all the more obvious with the slightly cocked eyebrow.

My gaze flickers to Talare, who's just tugging Ane's hand and looking up with that oh so trusting gaze.

"Alma?" Galsa tugs my sleeve, lifting her hands up even as she rubs her eye. I scoop my baby girl up, holding her close to me. She only snuggles closer and murmurs into my ear as if telling me a secret, "Daelhag ohn."

"Love you," I whisper right back and kiss her cheek and brow and hair and wherever my lips land. A tiny nose rubs against my neck, little arms snake around my neck, and the disquiet in me stills.

Don't know why I felt anxious. Cylben's fine.

8-8

Rocking along in the wagon, the driver continues chatting with Scarlet about something or other. Dunno what, don't much care.

All I care about is how my people surround me, how Iveri and Sofie lay wolf pelts on the floor so I can get comfortable and sleep whenever it suits me. Interestingly, Dovyn ordered Iveri to act as my pillow. Not complaining about that—even though I really should point out that Dovyn isn't so high on the food chain that he can order everyone around. Still, I won't complain in front of the driver.

Galsa sits in my lap as I lean back into Iveri's warmth, and holds an elaborate conversation with her doll, cradling her, holding her up to the sky, whispering to her how beautiful she is, how precious she is, and how wise and strong she will be. The whole time, my fingers dance through her hair, combing and braiding for her to look her best.

The wagon pulls over, stopping alongside the road. A city looms in the distance, its bright stone and white-washed houses unfamiliar to me.

"Whiterun," the driver says, sounding relieved. "Should make it to Riverwood by sundown."

Not sure what to make of him, but the last trip meant stopping over in Ivarstead—that was awkward. Maybe it was the silver and sapphire circlet, maybe it was the exquisite clothing, or how my people were so protective of me. Maybe I just didn't matter. Maybe I don't—

"Serjo?" Iveri nudges me. "Come. We don't have long."

They help me down and out the wagon, and Galsa comes for me to scoop her up. We wander a bit off the way, behind a thicket of bushes where Vy and Scarlet check it's safe—and stand guard to boot. Galsa and I quickly relieve ourselves, and I stand watch so the others can take their turn—though they'd argue Iveri stands watch and I'm just minding Galsa.

"Ser?" Iveri seems to have something to say, though I mostly keep sniffing and scanning around to see if anything poses a threat. "Scarlet tells me we head for Blacklight?"

I nod. What else is there to do? I need to find…I nod repeatedly and scoop up Galsa and hold her just a little tighter—my baby is as eager to hold me as I am her.

Vy's gaze burns into my skin, Scarlet's soon follows.

8-8

We make it to Riverwood about an hour before sunset. The driver parks the wagon opposite the tavern—the 'sleeping giant inn'. What is it with the weird tavern names? Still. Either here or Ivarstead, and I doubt we'd make it through the mountain pass before dark. Not sure why stopping in Helgen isn't an option—that doesn't bother me half as much as it should.

The sleepy little town has a grand total of two children, accompanied by the town's sole dog as they run through the street. Yes, street. This place is as tiny as Ivarstead, has a lumber mill like Ivarstead, but somehow has a blacksmith and trader as well—even with a comparable population.

Wooden buildings are of a different style than I'm used to. Ivarstead has an almost 'if I have to' feel about the buildings with Klimmek's and Vilemyr Inn being the only exceptions, but these seem to be built by at least competent craftsmen.

The blacksmith hammers away on his anvil under a wooden canopy. A Bosmerii delivers some firewood, no doubt to keep the forge burning.

We pile out of the wagon and stretch to work out the kinks.

"Hey, Serjo?" Scarlet looks almost pleading as she comes to me. "We need to talk." She and Vy steal my elbows and all but drag me into the inn. Scarlet quickly pays for the room, and I'm 'not' dragged into it, with two of our warriors standing watch outside the door and Dovyn minding Talare and Galsa—or at least, he's the one to shoo me into the room…?

I'm not really sure what's going on. Ane, Sofie, Iveri, and two of my handmaids busy themselves…with something. The door opens and Dovyn hands my maid a bucket of clean water and some wash rags, before the door is shut once again.

"Reyda." Vy turns me around and helps me out of my dress. Even with two of my handmaidens here, Vy suddenly figures it's her duty to bathe me—forgetting I can do that my just fine on my own, thank you. "Would you agree that it's my duty to see that you are tended to at all times?"

"No. As chap'thiil my safety is your primary concern." Somehow, this feels different. I'm surrounded by women, true, but normally while bathing we're all at least partially naked. Instead, everyone's busying themselves around me, and only I wear my birthday suit.

"True, but seeing as I currently represent your muthsera…?"

Sigh. "In essence, yes."

Not another word is spoken. Vy carefully, thoroughly, bathes me and swats my hand away each time I attempt to take over. She dries me and my handmaids hug me, essentially sandwiching me in to keep me warm.

"Getting dressed is more efficient." I cock an eyebrow, wordlessly asking Vy for an explanation.

"What you're doing is bad for Mireli." Tears pour down, betraying my self-control. Such simple words; so why do they feel like a punch to the gut? "So we've discussed the matter at length. The best solution we've come up with, to ensure your House never questions your loyalty to your Muthsera, is to have a woman tend to your needs. Each of us is more than willing to make love to you, Reyda. Over and over. We're even more than happy to share you among us. But you need this. And you're too stubborn to get out of your own way."

Hands cup my cheeks, drying my tears even as they so freely offer me their warmth.

"I'm offering you a chance to select her for yourself. If you won't decide, I'll have no choice but to choose for you." My eyes force shut. "You need this, Reyda. Mireli needs you to be at ease, now more than ever. Please. Say a name and I'll bathe her for you."

Sigh. "I can't do that," I say, eyes forced shut to keep my emotions in check. "Even if you never speak of it, I'll know. I could never hurt…"

"I'm sorry, Reyda. Dovyn and I can't allow for you to hurt Mireli and Galsa like this. Iveri. You'll be her lover until our Muthsera returns."

My eyes flutter open, fearing what I'll find. Iveri's beaming smile disarms me. She stands there, fearless as Ane and Vilvyni help her out of her dress and undergarments, as they wash her ashen skin. Curiously, Ane keeps sneaking little kisses to my chap'thiil, and they seem most careful to ensure Iveri faces me as they move around her.

Little glimpses of her bare breasts, of silvery pubic patch, interspersed with Ane and Vy continually touching and teasing each other, as if setting the mood for us. But there's a look in Iveri's eyes, something I hadn't thought to expect.

Lust. Even as Ane runs a comb through her hair, even as Vy runs a damp cloth between her thighs. Iveri's gaze never fails to meet mine, the building desire never fails to shine through her otherwise blank look.

Ane comes to me, steals me from the warmth of my handmaidens, and lays me out on the room's sole bed. None of them vacate the room.

I meet Vy's gaze, pleading with her. A smirk is all I get, before Vy lays Ane beside me. It's a bit cramped, but Ane takes my hand and smiles to set me at ease.

A kiss on my shin hitches my breathing. Ane's skirt hikes up as Vy works her way up, carefully showing Iveri what to do. My heart thrashes in my chest as the scent of my arousal fills the room.

What is this? Why am I so nervous? Why do I fear meeting Iveri's gaze, even as I feel her looking up at me? What does any of this mean? I was eager to lose my maidenhood, eager to entice him into round after round of lovemaking.

"Ah!" Whether I want to or not, when Iveri kisses my moist centre, my gaze snaps to her. When her tongue slithers out and delves into my depths, I find I couldn't look away if I wanted to.

No matter how needful this is, Iveri doesn't show a soulless devotion to the action itself. Instead, she props my leg up and drapes it over her shoulder, and she explores me. Her gaze wanders up and down my every nook and cranny, but she never tastes of me without fearlessly looking up—as if she seeks to find the thing that pleases me most.

She's slow. Teasingly slow. Every little lick, no matter how it excites me, is interspersed with kisses to my thigh and attention divested to her hand reaching up and dragging her fingertips along my abdomen.

I swat Iveri, giving her a dirty look that only seems to amuse her. Tongue lashes out, assaulting the most sensitive part of me. I cover my mouth, trying to stifle the moans leaping up.

This is just…uh…needful. Yes, for Mireli's sake. That's all this is. To ensure Mireli and Galsa get nothing but the best of me.

Even as my fingers comb through Iveri's hair and my thighs clamp down to keep her from retreating from her ministrations, her only response is to suck in my most tender bit and continue her tongue-lashing inside her mouth.

8-8

Walking out of the inn the next morning, I find myself shivering. That Delphine has an odd air about her, like she expects war to break out any second. At least Iveri is looking more presentable—and Vy was kind enough to trim her hair to make her look nicer.

Vy and Scarlet help me up into the wagon once again, for the last leg of the trip, and I'm given no choice but to cuddle up with Galsa—the horror, I have to cuddle. Iveri sits on the wolf pelts beckoning for me to come join her. I barely sit between her thighs before Galsa is asked to sit with Talare, so they can play a game. Three bedrolls are spread out over me and Iveri, covering us up to our throats, and Iveri's arms snake around my middle.

"Rest, Ser." Iveri's hushed whisper sends her hot breath down my neck. "I know how poorly you've been sleeping, but you are safe here. I swear it on my ancestors."

The long, lumbering trail down from Riverwood is uneventful; the incline up the mountain pass equally so. The kids play a hand-clapping game, Ane and Sofie take turns singing songs. Mostly it's Vy and Dovyn that set me at ease, how their watchful eyes are ever on the world around us. Those two are comforting to have around.

Iveri keeps smoothing my face and nudging my chin, no doubt meaning for me to lay my head against her. After her fifth try, Vy gives me a pointed glare and a cocked eyebrow. I roll my eyes, leaning more into Iveri and rubbing my nose in her neck. Even after last night, Vy's still this insistent.

Blue mountain flowers. She smells of blue mountain flowers and of sitting by the hearth. And of the vegetable soup we had for breakfast.

But there's something else. Something I can't put my finger on. A scent I can only describe as warm, like sitting by the fire during a snowstorm.

Time trickles by, glacial as these stupid trips always are. Between the rhythmic rocking and the gentle staccato of the trotting horse, I find myself easing into a kind of stupor—like nothing bothers me.

Fingers comb through my hair, constantly knocking into my circlet. "Come, Ser. You cannot expect to rest wearing that," Iveri announces she's been patient enough. She slips my circlet up off my brow, giving that, my ring, and my gloves to Vy.

Her touch is different this time, softer, more curious. Fingertips explore my scalp, from the base of my neck up to the top of my head. Her other hand isn't idle, roaming my abdomen in a fluid but dizzied motion.

I look up at the grey and drab skies, wondering at how comfortable I am having a complete stranger touching me so intimately. Perhaps it's that I trust a woman with my body, perhaps it's that said body craves to be touched. Perhaps it's how my ears ache to hear someone telling me I matter.

"Do you want me to stop?" Her hot breath kisses my neck. Or is that her nose I feel? I shake my head, no, feeling her nose tap against my earlobe.

No, it's her lips I feel against my neck, against my suddenly sensitive skin.

"I swear it, Serjo. If I do anything you do not desire, you need only say 'no' and I'll stop." I nod, understanding. Her lips press against my neck, her searing breath shooting right through me, settling in the pit of my tummy.

"I want to thank you." Her tone seems sincere, but I am far more interested in the nubs poking into my back—curiously hard among the soft flesh of her breasts. "For saving me. For treating me like I matter."

She kisses my neck again, soft and tender and oh so warm.

"That's why." She takes my hand, laying my palm flat on her naked inner thigh. "That's why." Her fingers comb through my hair as her teeth graze my skin. "Anything you need of me. Anything you want of me. I'll gladly give that and more."

My hand slides down her thigh, my touch feather light. Her heart is as a drum, thumping against my back and curiously matching mine. Curious, that she doesn't even attempt to stop me, no matter where my fingers wander.

A thought bubbles up, watching Vy and Ane take turns pleasing each other. Iveri was so diligent in sating my needs. Would it be so horrid to return the favour?

8-8

We make it to Riften about an hour after sunset, an uneventful leg of the journey. The guards take one look at me, and quickly decide they don't need any trouble. The streets are poorly lit, but no one troubles us all the same.

We don't even bother with the rear entrance, since my people guard all doors now. They open the door without hesitation at seeing us, welcoming us back. Iveri seems most impressed, seeing the Dunmeri armours they bear—though them welcoming us in Dunmeris certainly isn't hurting things.

"Ah, Reydaserjo, welcome home," Ulen greets us. "Should I see to supper for you?"

I nod, smiling for him.

"As you wish, Ser." Ulen turns to the handmaidens already greeting us. Orders fly this way and that—from drawing a bath for me, to arranging bedding for the new faces. Ulen is effective at what he does.

Vy closes the door behind us, just as Dovyn tosses extra firewood into the hearth.

"It's good to be back," Vy says. The kids whine about being hungry, but don't much seem to care where we are.

It isn't more than a minute later that there's a knock at the door and three maids enter, bearing bathing jugs and fresh linens to dry us. Dovyn excuses himself, no doubt meaning to stand guard outside while we freshen up.

When the door shuts, everyone starts fishing out a fresh change of clothes stacking them on the bed. I can't help but smile when our warriors start helping each other out of their armour—the first time in almost a week they get to take it off.

We take our time, washing ourselves and the kids. Everyone's just happy to be able to have a proper fucking bath. I do make sure Iveri washes up properly.

"Serjo?" One of our warriors stands nods to my sword. "Would it please you if I should have Dawnbreaker cleaned and sharpened?"

I smile. "Be warned, warrior. While I am quite easygoing, my Muthsera might not be. Protocol would demand you bring any such desire to Vilvyni's attention, given she is my chap'thiil."

The woman bows, sorrow in her eyes for putting me in such a position.

"Do not fret. I do not blame you for not knowing things I haven't explained. Please, ensure that everyone knows that all things martial pertaining to me must be discussed with Vilvyni. All things domestic must be discussed with Ulen. Should either deem it worthy of my attention, they will ask that you speak to me directly."

"Of course. A thousand pardons, Reydakhan."

"Now that you mention it. Vy. Dovyn. It's time you both started training my personal guard. Each of you should best select three, for now. And Scarlet. Your training will double. You will be my muscle, and you'll need to start earning that kind of reputation."

They grin, obviously liking the sound of things to come.

"Ane. You'll start your training with Dinya. I'll continue your alchemy lessons at night. You as well, Sofie."

"Ser?" Ane wraps a simple housedress around her, tying it with a cloth belt. "Should I include Laily?"

I furrow my brow, trying to figure out who 'Laily' even is. Ane tugs one of my handmaids, who's still drying herself off. Ah, that's who she means.

"Yes, and please ensure all our non-combatants have Healing training. Scarlet. I need a meeting with Mehra." Scarlet nods, scrubbing under her breasts. "We need to discuss plans for Faldar's Tooth, the trip to Blacklight, and a few projects I've been considering."

Iveri comes, wearing a much nicer dress and jacket—I'm glad she let me pick that out for her. She combs my hair for me, grabbing my circlet.

"Not tonight. We expect no visitors," I say. She nods, setting it and my ring into the closet, and brings Dawnbreaker, helping me to strap it to my belt.

8-8

End Chapter 9

8-8

A/N: Okay, it took longer than I anticipated to get this chapter done. I have a good bit written and plotted, but sometimes little things need to change, and those changes wreak utter havoc later down. So, yeah. This just happened.