DISCLAIMER: I do not own Skyrim. I own only the characters Ophelia Millais and Theldyn Mehra, among other OCs.
Sorry for my long absence! My laptop needs replacing and I've been bouncing all over the country for mission trips and annual mountain climbing expeditions with my family... etcetera etcetera... but! I'm back now, and I hope to update this story much more often. I spent quite a deal of time trying to make these chapters quite longer. In fact, they're almost long enough to be parts all in themselves. Anyway. I know it won't make up for my absence but I hope it will help a little!
Also, I completed my cover image for the story. Looks kind of nice, actually. Well, for an old version of Photoshop anyway. Oh, I wish I still had SAI...! Well, now you know what Ophelia and Theldyn look like. Yay!
Many thanks to all of you who read and a thousand thanks to those who take the time to leave a review.
Part Three: Prelude
Chapter Seven: Dark Waters
"No!" I shrieked, desperately trying to wrest myself out of the strong arms that held me back. "Please! He's innocent!" I jerked, pulled, and twisted to no avail; the soldiers holding me would not let go. Realizing the hopelessness of the situation, my attempts to free myself slowed and soon stopped altogether. I sagged to my knees and hung my head. There was no escape from the inevitable. My worst nightmare had become reality: the man whom I loved most was going to die.
With tear-filled eyes, I gazed up through my blood-matted hair at the platform on which he was to be executed. The sun, even on such a damnable and hellish moment, shone gaily and sent down its late summer rays upon the cheering crowd. It seemed that the rest of the world delighted at the cost of another's misery, and was not afraid to flaunt that jubilation in the most flamboyant of ways. I knelt upon the cold stone in chains and rags, as did the man at the headman's block, the others around me cheered and danced as though a great villain had been finally vanquished.
They did not know the man who was to be executed, the man I knew so very well. Did they know about his hopes, dreams, and fears? About those whom he cared about, or about who he really was? No, they knew only of the falsities and lies he had been wrongfully accused of. Whether or not he was truly innocent mattered not. Hate and bloodlust dictated his fate now. I knew with a heavy heart that these were not merciful masters and that they would stop at nothing to see his head roll. No matter how much I loved him, no matter how much I wished to take his place, the ignorant and bloodthirsty crowd would see to it that he would die.
It was summer, but everything around me was like a bitter winter night. An unshakeable darkness seemed to loom even in the bright sun, and an unbearable weight seemed to crush me to the stone beneath me. With what little strength I managed to muster, I kept my head up to see his last moments.
A silver boot kicked him to the ground and held him down at the block. An axe was raised and shone like a blazing star in the harsh sun. He turned his head towards me to gaze at me with his bright blue eyes and smile warmly as if to comfort me.
"No, please!" I screamed, ripping myself from the soldier's arms, "Don't do this!"
Then the axe fell.
"Papa!" I cried, jolting upright from my cot. For a moment or two I sat in darkness, my body drenched in sweat and tears. As I looked around me and saw that I was not in the streets of Markarth, my frantic breathing slowed. I was back in the Darkwater Crossing farmhouse, where Ralof and Sonja had taken us earlier in the day. The execution had only been a nightmare, nothing more.
A flash of light broke the darkness; a candle had been lit. The unfamiliar face of a Nord stared at me through tired, bloodshot eyes. "Ophelia," he whispered weakly, "what's wrong?" The heavily bandaged man lay in a cot not too far away from where I was. His hand lay limp upon the bedside table, an extinguished match nestled in his palm. "Are you okay?" I did not recognize him. Seeing this, he tugged at part of his bandages to reveal a pinkish, circular scar just above his heart. "It's me. Theldyn."
"Theldyn..." I let out a sigh of relief. I still wasn't used to him disguised as a Nord. "It was nothing, Theldyn. Go back to sleep. You need it." I got out of my cot and walked to put out the candle. Before I could snuff the little flame out, Theldyn grabbed my wrist. He said nothing and only kept me from extinguishing the light. I could tell he had hardly the strength to do even that, for his hand shook and it was not long at all before his grip loosened almost completely. I bit my lip. "Theldyn, please don't ask. I already feel bad for giving you so much pain. I mean, I healed you up wrong in that cave. The healer had to rip you back open just to fix what I messed up. You don't need to add my pain to your own."
Theldyn sighed and withdrew his hand, wincing as it pulled at his wounds. "If you wish," he said rather mechanically, turning his face from me to the ceiling. I half-wanted him to ask further, to see if he was genuinely worried about me or if the marque had forced him to ask about my well-being. After all, he had only ever been kind to me in the first place because he thought I would make a good master. Was he really my friend who genuinely cared about me? Or, as I suspected, was he just acting the part of my loyal servant? With the marque, I couldn't tell. I awaited something more from him, but received only silence in return.
After a minute or two of waiting hopefully for him to show any emotion or further concern, I changed the subject. "Did Verner and Annekke wake?" I asked as quietly as possible.
"No," he answered, "But I'm not surprised. There aren't many things that can wake a sleeping Nord." He turned his eyes up to me, almost accusingly. "Even a bloodcurdling scream in the dead of night."
I sighed. He wanted to know, but his marque forbade him from disobeying my order not to ask further. Alluding to it was the best he could do. I might as well tell him; there was no point being bound together for all eternity if we did not know who the other was.
Then again, would he think the same of me after learning who Ophelia Millais really was? Would he regret his decision in choosing me as his new master? Well, maybe he would, and maybe he wouldn't. I would've had to tell him about myself sooner or later.
"I dreamt of my father's execution. I was there when he was beheaded. His... blood splashed all over me. It's kind of hard to forget." I could see he was surprised and felt genuinely sorry for me, but his curiosity had been peaked. He wanted to know more. "Okay. I'll tell you, but it's a long story. I'd have to start at the beginning. Are you sure you don't want to sleep? You had surgery this morning. You should really get sleep." I was answered with the very slightest of nods. It really would be quite a lengthy tale, so I pulled up chair for myself. "Well, are you familiar with the Forsworn situation in Markarth?"
"No, not really. Bandits don't really care for politics."
"Mm-kay. Until twenty years ago, the Reach was ruled by the Reachmen, Bretons who had lived in the Reach for centuries. The Nords, led by Ulfric Stormcloak, chased away and slaughtered these indigenous people and claimed Markarth for their own. However, they did not kill all of the Reachmen. Some assimilated into the new Nord society, others were imprisoned or executed. My mother and father were among the lucky few who were spared. My father Théo became a bard after escaping a dismal fate of working at the smelter, found love when he met my mother, Mhari, who worked as a barmaid in the local tavern. My father often told me he loved my mother very much, but I never knew her since she died giving birth to me.
"So my father raised me on his own in the Warrens. Oh, that's the slum for the Natives. I've heard about the Gray Quarter. That sounds positively divine compared to the stony cold of the Warrens. We got by for a few years on my father's meager earnings as a bard..." I chuckled, remembering my father's singing. "... I don't know how he managed to make any money at all. He was positively awful. Well. Anyway. One day, I woke up and my youthful father seemed to have aged centuries since the day before. He coughed up blood and he couldn't move very well. I think it was ataxia; I'm not sure. I was thirteen, old enough to become a bride. I had been dreaming of having a family of my own for some time, but with my father dreadfully ill and immobile, I couldn't dream of leaving him.
"Since I had nothing to sell and no trade of my own, I became an Agent of Dibella in order to buy tonics and potions for my father. It wasn't that uncommon for young girls to sell themselves as Agents, but I started early, the priestesses said. That made me sell well, I think. Innocence and purity... something or other. Whatever it was I probably don't have it anymore. Other Reachmen still faithful to the old ways scorned me, but I made money enough to keep my father alive for another year. I prayed to the Nine every day after I became an Agent for him to get better, and he did a little bit. I think it was after I discovered a child in my belly that my father spoke to me -"
Theldyn grabbed my hand suddenly. "What? Herbjørn's... is not your first child?"
My heart stung. "Yes and no. I lost the first child in Cidhna Mine." Theldyn's grip loosened. "She was a pretty little thing, a daughter of one of the Silver-Blood clan no less, but she would be and is much happier in Aetherius. Life is hard in the city of silver and blood. She may be happier but, well, she never saw her mother." I found myself staring at my hands. "She never opened her eyes and never took her first breath." I clenched my hands into fists. "Well, 'tis good she never had to live in that hell of a prison."
"Cidhna Mine! By Oblivion! What were you doing there?"
I looked up at him, surprised by his expression. It was actually plainly evident that he was stunned. "W-well, I'm getting to that." I cleared my throat. "My father spoke to me after a few months, and he said he was ashamed at what I had had to do. He said he had wanted a better life for me, a 'life worth living', I think. I told him a life without him was no life at all... and when I said that he cried. Then he said he didn't deserve such a wonderful daughter, and that I should just let him die. But how could I let him die? So I hushed him and told him not to worry and that everything would turn out okay. The last thing he ever said to me was 'Don't become like me.'"
"Well, things only went from bad to worse from there. A few months after my father spoke to me, soldiers came into the Warrens and said that both me and my father were to be executed for being Forsworn conspirators... by murdering eight noblemen and women in cold blood. They didn't care that he couldn't have possibly killed anyone in his condition; they needed to kill someone. And they would imprison me for being his accomplice. Apparently, it wouldn't have been decent to kill a young girl late in her pregnancy. I begged my father to tell the guards that they had the wrong person and that he was innocent, but he told them that he had done everything he had been accused of. With a smile on his face, even.
"So the guards dragged us off to the headsman's block. Before executing us, they gave us quite a thrashing and threw us in chains. My father was killed then, with a smile on his face, as if he was inviting death. It was almost immediately after the execution that they threw me into Cidhna Mine. For life." I tried to stop my tale, but my heart wouldn't have it. I now felt the need to tell Theldyn everything. "There, I discovered that Madanach, the old king of the Reach, was still alive. The imprisoned Forsworn tolerated me. When I gave birth to a dead daughter at age fourteen, Madanach and his men took pity on me and adopted me into the Forsworn. The men there began teaching me how to fight, which I relished. I hungered to avenge my father and my child, and kill every Imperial soldier that I could get my hands on. I learned the old ways, the old religion, and how much the Nords of the Reach had really oppressed my people.
"Madanach, impressed with my resolve and touched by my dedication and undying loyalty to him, allowed me to escape with him and his men. After we escaped Markarth, we went to a place called Druadach Redoubt. There, I made myself useful as a healer since I was too young and weak to fight. I became an expert of Restoration, and healed more brave Reachmen and women than I could ever count. It was after I had worked my way up the ladder that Madanach took a shine to me. I was more than honored to be noticed by him, as I was but a healer girl. He saw potential in me, he told me. So he put me under the care of the Hagravens. I was so special, he said, I could very well become one."
Theldyn stared incredulously. "Hagravens? You... becoming a hagraven? I don't understand."
"Oh. Hagravens are revered by the Forsworn. In a way, they're the Forsworn matriarchs. Looking back on it, it's quite a foolish notion... anyway. Madanach gave me to the Hagravens. I entered this perverse 'training' with two others. They were sisters, Petra and Melka. We learned more of the old ways, of sacrificing Spriggans and how to transform a warrior into a mindless fighting machine. I remember Petra and Melka taking the best fighter in the whole Redoubt, a man named Connell and granted upon him the greatest honor a man could receive from the Hags. I watched in horror as they carved out his still-beating heart and replaced it with what we called a Briarheart. It is, of sorts, a... a clump of... thorny plant material laced with magic to keep the soulless husk alive and fighting until the body is torn limb from limb." I blinked back tears, almost seeing the demented event before my eyes. The shadows in the room seemed to twist into the faces I had gotten to know in the Redoubt. People I had loved that had been made evil murderers through hate. I had been one of those people. I wanted to scream and terror and run for my life, but I was frozen in the chair, telling my story in a near trance. "I knew Connell. I had healed him once - his arm had nearly been sawed clean off - and afterwards he was dead set on courting me and drowning me in lavish gifts. He was a sweet, kind boy, but don't get me wrong, he was deadly with a blade and even more so with his magic. Not a day went by without him proclaiming his undying love for me and trying to steal a kiss from me. I didn't mind his attentions, he was a handsome lad and the best warrior in the Forsworn. Quite a catch, he would have been." I laughed, but it quickly died. "But that was before he became a Briarheart.
"Connell wasn't the same after he became a Briarheart. I don't think he even was Connell anymore. No, he wasn't even alive. After all, they never patched up his chest; there was a hollow in his chest where his briar was. He was a mindless fighting machine, a few skirmishes he returned from should've left him dead. But he came walking back with this emotionless face even when his innards were spilling out of him... he ordered me to put them back in place and send him back into battle. And I had to. He was a higher rank than I, I had to obey or he had the right to kill me. So I healed him up as best I could and sent him back into the fray. He never came back after that. After Connell died, I don't think I felt the same about the Forsworn cause. And finally, when Petra and Melka captured a travelling merchant and murdered her as a sacrifice, I saw them become Hagravens. Right before my eyes. Twisting, convulsing... I watched as their humanity fell away. The girls I had become friends with no longer existed. That was when I realized I no longer wanted to be a Forsworn. I hated the cause. I hated Madanach.
"I also realized that it had not been the Imperials that had killed my father, but the Forsworn. He had been used as a scapegoat to allow one of Madanach's outside agents to stay on the prowl. I decided I would indeed carry out my revenge... by assassinating Madanach and the Hagravens. I didn't know how I would do it, but I would do it. I had to. Then it hit me. I didn't have to kill him myself; after all, there was always the Black Sacrament. Before I could perfrom it though, Madanach found out. I'm not sure how he learned of my plot, but he did. He had me brought to him for punishment. I expected to die for my treachery. I didn't mind dying then, really, since I would see my father and daughter in Aetherius. But Madanach knew this. He was a smart man, a very smart man, and he knew that I welcomed death. So he sold me as a prostitute. I'm not sure where I was headed, but your bandit gang intercepted my delivery. You know the rest."
After I finished, I felt as if an unbearable weight had been removed from my shoulders. It felt good to finally tell someone what I had kept bottled up inside of me for so long. However, I had not planned on telling him so much. Would he hate me for being part of so many wretched things? Would he realize what a hateful person I really was, and wholly regret his choice in me? I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the worst.
But nothing ever came. Confused, I looked up to see Theldyn fast asleep. Evidently, he had fallen asleep sometime as I was relating who I really was to him. Maybe, just maybe, he hadn't heard of my murderous intentions. Maybe there was still hope of him seeing me as the kind master he wanted me to be. I didn't want him to know that I had once done evil and demonic things that rivaled the wickedness of his marque. Relief washed over me and I found myself smiling joyously.
"Thank you, Theldyn," I whispered, and kissed his forehead gently. "Thank you." I pinched out the light of the candle and returned to my own bed.
Chapter Eight: Of Love and Lies
Darkwater Crossing would have been a beautiful place if not for the damnable smelter that stained the world black. Nestled right next to a waterfall pool beneath the shelter of large pine trees, it seemed to be a little piece of heaven on earth. But it was not to be. The abundance of corundum caused the opening of the Goldenrock Mine, which brought forth the smelter. The freshly fallen snow had quickly become black slush from the trampling feet of the miners, and the soot fell into the pool. The world was black.
I wrapped the fur cloak Annekke had given me around my shoulders and kicked the slush off of my boots. The blackness of it all was quite depressing, and I looked to the faraway mountains at the rising sun. Five days had passed since I told Theldyn of myself. Two days had passed since the healer had gotten Theldyn walking for a bit on his own. It was nothing short of a miracle, they said. The gods were on our side, they said. Ralof and Sonja even wanted to escort us to the Temple of Mara for our wedding.
The wedding. Would Theldyn and I really have to get married to keep our heads?
I let out a sigh and reached into my boot, pulling out the black parchment. My fingers traced the Daedric lettering that spelled out Theldyn's fate. The two of us were already bound together until one of us died, marriage wouldn't change anything, right? My finger stopped on a rough sketch of Theldyn's marque. I stared at the thing, drawn in Theldyn's blood, and felt sick. Did I really have the right to keep him in a cage as my own personal slave? Then again, maybe we didn't even have to get married. Maybe Ralof and Sonja would take us to Riften and return to the Crossing. Then Theldyn and I could part ways, and live our separate lives. That's what he had suggested back at the bandit camp, hadn't he? Was that what he wanted?
"What's that you have there?"
I inhaled sharply and stuffed the contract back into my boot. "Nothing, Ralof. I was just looking at the falls." I gestured to the waterfall, still cascading even in the frigid temperatures. "Aren't they beautiful?"
He nodded and leaned against a nearby tree. "Yes, they are." He looked back to me. "Well, Miss Ophelia, I come bearing good news." I arched an eyebrow. "We can leave for Riften in a few days! Your Gunnar is recovering amazingly fast. You two can finally tie the knot." He smiled warmly and patted me on the back. "We'll get you there safe and sound, don't worry." It was obvious he expected something more cheerful from me after such 'good news', because he seemed startled when I didn't say anything. "Is something wrong? Don't you want to get married?"
I contemplated the question. Did I want to get married? Eventually, yes. To Theldyn? I wouldn't mind. But because of a lie? No. Marriage was a sacred thing to Mara, and I was going to spit in her face just to save my own hide. Even if I did end up marrying Theldyn to keep from being found out, the only reason we'd stay a couple was because we were bound by the marque. Not love. If not for the marque, he would have left me in a heartbeat to pursue his own dreams.
Tormented by my doubts, I whispered, "I'm not so sure anymore."
"What? Don't you love him? You even bear his child!"
I touched my swollen belly, laden with life, and hung my head. "The babe was not begotten by love, Ralof. I'd rather not tell you what happened in that camp."
He turned his gaze away in embarrassment. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
There was an awkward silence for a moment or two before Ralof tried to cheer me up. "Well, he could raise the child as his own. After all, the child shouldn't be blamed for the sins of the father." I nodded absentmindedly, wishing that Ralof would stop talking. Quickly. Theldyn, raising the child? I almost laughed. He didn't seem the fatherly type whatsoever. He probably wouldn't know how to be a father, much less to the child of the demon of a man who had been done so many despicable things to him. And that was if he stayed and honored our fake marriage. At that thought I felt what little strength in me vanish like smoke in the wind. Once again, I'd be left to fend for myself and fight against a world that was dead set against making me miserable. Theldyn would leave and I would let him live his own life. I would raise the child on my own in the cesspool of Riften, most likely living off of, once again, my arts of Dibella. That was all I was good for, wasn't it? Raising the bastard of a bandit by selling my own body for my bread and butter? Yes, that seemed about right.
I did my best to hold back bitter tears. "That would be wonderful, Ralof. But I don't think Thel... Gunnar... loves me. And certainly not the child." Before Ralof could make another attempt to console me, I whirled around and walked briskly away from him. After I was out of sight and earshot of anyone at the Crossing, I crumpled to my knees and let my cloak fall from my shoulders. A blast of cold wind hit me like a slap in the face and froze the tears on my cheeks. For a minute or two, I knelt in the snow and took a beating from the icy winter wind. I had hoped it would have woken me up from my self-pity, but it only made me feel even more alone. So, I solemnly gathered up my cloak, brushed off the snow, and stood.
I had decided. I would let Theldyn go. If he wanted to live his own life, why should I stop him? He had already lived twenty years as a slave to a bandit, he didn't need an eternity serving a whore. I would let him go with a smile; I would be happy for him and his independence.
With this newfound idea burning in my mind, I felt a smile grow. Then a laugh. Then racking sobs.
It was then I realized I was starting to love Theldyn; it would be harder than anything to let him go. But I had to. So, with a heavy heart, I turned and headed back to the Crossing.
-
"Ophelia! Ophelia, wake up!" I opened my sleepy eyes to see Sonja smiling down at me. "Today's your wedding day! We have to get you ready!" I remembered groggily that we had rented rooms at the Bee and the Barb, and that Sonja and I had shared a room.
"You're cruel, Sonja," I groaned, hugging myself tighter into the blankets, "the sun isn't even out yet."
She sighed and tore the blankets off of me. "That's the point! The wedding starts at dawn!" I laid on the straw mattress and sighed. I wished that the sun would never rise, so that I might never have to put more locks and chains on the cage I had Theldyn in. He already had one reason to have to stay with me forever, I didn't feel like I had the right to force marriage onto him. Also, I had a feeling that he was dreading this false marriage more than I knew, for on the eight hour journey on horseback to Riften he had not spoken a single word to me. What raging emotions he kept behind that stony mask of his were a mystery - and I sincerely hoped that they would stay that way. If he hated me, I would rather not know for sure.
Before I could get myself out of bed, Sonja had already created a mountain of dresses at my feet.
"Pick one!" she said with a smile, gesturing towards the great heap of gowns.
"Sonja! Where did you get all of this!" I said, stunned at the quantity and quality of the dresses. I picked one up and ran my hands on the fabric. It was such a luxurious texture I felt as though I wasn't worthy of touching it. Glorious shades of purples and blues and reds seemed to dance in the candlelight as Sonja examined them one by one, trying to pick one out. "Sonja..."
"I bought them," she said, and made a disapproving cluck of the tongue before tossing the dress she had been holding behind her. "Bah! None of these are good enough!"
"What? But these are so beautiful...!" I picked one up and traced the intricate stitching with my finger, "Any one of these is finer than any dress I have ever owned! But Sonja, why do all of this for me? We've not known each other long. All of these must have cost a small fortune...!"
Sonja smiled. "I'm more than happy to help you with your wedding. You've been through so much, Ophelia. Doing this for you is the very least I could do." She held up another one of the dresses, a relatively simple one. "Plus, a marriage lightens up the world, even if only for a little bit. What with the war going on, we need every shred of happiness to keep us all sane... Might as well make it the best it can be for you." She examined the dress some more, and then smoothed it on the bed for me to see. "How about this burgundy one? It's not too ornate, but it looks better than the rest."
I stared dumbly at the thing. It was fit for a queen, not for a lowly and deceitful peasant like me.
"I... I couldn't possibly accept it, Sonja. I have no money. I could never pay you back for all of this..."
She scoffed. "Let a soldier have her fun, and let her splurge on you! I have all this money I make and I'm never able to spend it because I'm so busy all the time! Believe me, this is the most fun I've had in ages. So don't worry about paying me back. You and Gunnar should just have lots of little ones and then invite me over to see them sometime, okay?" She smoothed any and all wrinkles out of the dress and stood back to look at it. "This one is the one, I know it! Oh, you're going to be beautiful, Ophelia!"
I was touched by her generosity, truly I was, but I felt torn. I couldn't just accept her lavish gifts and then annul the marriage as soon as she left. So many untruthful and devilish things had already been done; I didn't want to take advantage of Sonja any more than I already had. To some degree I had become friends with her while Theldyn had recovered. I felt bad enough as it was. But I couldn't just force Theldyn into honoring a false marriage for the sake of a friend. Which was more important? Friendship with a woman I'd probably never see again in my life, or good terms with the man I was already bonded to eternally? I needed to talk to him, to sort things out, and ask his opinion on all of this.
"Sonja, can I talk to Gunnar?" I said, slipping a simple dress over my shift, "I want to talk to him about something-"
Sonja shook her head vigorously and blocked my way to the door. "Don't you know it's terrible luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony?" I almost laughed at this comment. It was hard to have worse than the luck Theldyn and I had had recently.
"Sonja, I don't care. Let me see him."
She laughed and herded me towards the mirror in the corner. "No, not now! You'll see him at the ceremony, don't worry." Before I could say anything more, she tore through my tangled hair with a jagged comb and poured oils and perfumes into it. She then proceeded to attack my scalp with her fingers, massaging it fiercely with her nails. I yelped occasionally and cringed as she with each rake of the comb and her hands. When she was done attempting to dig trenches into my head, she edged my eyes with fresh kohl, plucked at my eyebrows and lashes, and lightly tapped rouge onto my cheeks. Then, she stuffed me into the burgundy gown she had picked out, which was rather tight around the stomach due to my pregnancy, and placed a woven circlet of flowers upon my head. Apparently, she was finally finished with her tortuous ordeal of beautifying me. She turned me around so that I could see myself in the mirror. "You look marvelous! If I could look half as good in that dress...!"
I did not recognize the woman who stood before me in the mirror. Slowly, I reached out a hand to touch the glass, and saw her do the same. She looked like a porcelain doll, with full red lips atop youthfully smooth and unmarred skin. Her long eyelashes and kohl made her brown eyes shine like glistening stars. Her once-girlish figure, now that of a woman, was accentuated by the majestic burgundy and gold of the gown. The woman before her was no longer the girl Ophelia Millais, but a stranger I couldn't recognize. She was too beautiful to be me. To be frank, I was slightly disturbed at my stunning transformation. However, I did find it slightly amusing that a Stormcloak soldier of all people had taught me, an Agent of Dibella, a lesson in beauty.
"I... is that me?" I whispered, confused. I touched my hair, my stomach, and then my cheek. The woman in the mirror followed my movements. "Are you a mage, Sonja? Did you use magic to make me beautiful?"
Once again, she laughed. "Nope. I may be a soldier, but I'm a woman, too." Then, she seemed to remember something. "Oh! I almost forgot!" She ran back to the heap of clothing and came back with a white fur cloak. "It's still winter, we don't want you getting too cold, do we?" I smiled and took the cloak. It was soft and warm; I earnestly draped it over my shoulders. I looked once again at the mirror and nearly cried. It was not Ophelia, bedslave to a bandit, who stood there, but a dignified, respectable woman. I wanted to tear off the gown and the crown of flowers. I didn't want to lie anymore, I didn't want to trick people anymore. But I kept my mouth locked into a gentle smile and averted my eyes from the reflection.
Let Sonja think today was a happy day. Let her believe Gunnar and I would live our lives out together. Let her be happy. She deserved to be after all she had done.
After a few more minutes of last minute preparations, Sonja led me out of the inn and into Riften. It was a dirty, filthy city. Built on boardwalks above the putrid canals and the sewer system appropriately named the Ratway, it stunk like a corpse that had sat in the sun too long. I hated the place. Luckily, the Temple of Mara was only a stone's throw away from the Bee and the Barb, and the wedding ceremony was about to begin.
"Dawn is breaking," said Sonja, pulling open the door for me. "Go get 'em."
With leaden feet I stepped into the temple. The man named Gunnar stood facing the shrine, not bothering to look back at his bride. The priest, Maramal, evidently thought this confusing, and stumbled on his words. "A-Ah! Here's the blushing bride now!" I wasn't blushing. If anything, it was the rouge. After what felt like an eternity of being stared at as I walked down the little aisle, I finally reached the altar at Gunnar's side. I glanced at my groom nervously. His eyes did not move from their fixated place on the wall in front of him. With a sigh, I looked up at Maramal and nodded sadly. "Well, let's begin the ceremony. It was Mara who first gave birth to all of creation and pledged to wath over us as her children. It is from her love that we first learned to love one another." I felt my heart sting as I once again stole a peek at the man at my side. He seemed to not acknowledge my presence, and continued staring forward. He did not want to be in the situation, and was doing his best not to think about it. And was it anger that kept him from looking at me? Hate? I banished these depressing thoughts from my mind and looked back up to the priest marrying us. "It is from this love that we learned that a life lived alone is no life at all." The pain in my chest grew to a terrible throbbing. Could I really let Theldyn leave? Would I be able to release him from his cage and set him free? Hearing these words, nearly identical to the thoughts I had kept suppressed deep inside of me to prevent me from having second thoughts, sprung out of me like a river rushing through a broken dam. I loved Theldyn. I didn't know why, I just did. He was special to me, and I didn't think I could live without him. If he left me, and he never returned, would I live? Or would I just wither away, pining for a man who had never loved me in the first place? I hung my head and felt a tear roll down my cheek. I couldn't let him go.
Maramal continued, "We gather here, under Mara's loving gaze, to bear witness to the union of two souls in eternal companionship. May they journey forth together in this life and the next, in prosperity and poverty, and in joy and hardship." He turned to Gunnar, who hadn't turned his gaze since the beginning of the ceremony. "Gunnar, do you agree to be bound together with Ophelia, in love, now and forever?"
He turned his head towards the priest and forced a weak smile. "I do," he said mechanically, "Now and forever." As he his artificial words, I felt my heart break a little. I tried to think that he was merely acknowledging that it was a fake ceremony to save our necks, but my mind would have none of my wishful thinking, dismal as it already was.
Maramal then turned to me and asked, "Ophelia, do you agree to be bound together with Gunnar, in love, now and forever?"
I paused for a moment, my jaw hanging open in preparation for a response. I was frozen. Could I possibly end the ceremony, say I had cold feet, and couldn't go through with the marriage? Maybe then, Theldyn wouldn't have to marry me. We could go our separate ways, and all would be well. Theldyn would be free, and I would be... alone. It was not long after that when I found myself speaking the vows. "I do. Now and forever." I wanted to kick myself.
Maramal smiled and said, "Under the authority of Mara, divine of love, I declare this couple to be wed." All my life I had hungered to hear those words when I was to be wed, but now I felt only sadness. I knew with a heavy heart that I had chained Theldyn to me in one more manner, even if it was a false marriage. Even if I wasn't marrying Theldyn but his disguise, Gunnar. "Now I present the two of you with these matching rings, blessed by Mara's divine grace." He handed a ring to me and one to Gunnar. Gunnar and I turned to face one another. Before he slipped the ring onto my finger, his eyes fell upon me for the first time. They grew wide.
He was frozen, staring at me with huge bugging eyes, as was his hand just above mine. It seemed he did not recognize me either, for he stared as if he had found an unfamiliar noblewoman marrying him instead of the prostitute girl he had expected. Only when the ring slipped from his hand to the floor did he snap out of his daze. Embarrassed, he quickly retrieved the ring and slipped it on my finger. Somewhat more gracefully, I placed the ring onto his finger and smiled weakly up at my new husband. He quickly averted his eyes with a cough.
With an amused smile, the priest concluded, "May they protect you in your new life together. Mara bless."
Chapter Nine: Release
After Ralof and Sonja finally bid their goodbyes and returned to the Crossing after the wedding, Theldyn and I returned to the room we had rented at the Bee and the Barb. We did not speak a word to each other, even when we entered the privacy of our room.
"What now, Theldyn?" I asked, not daring to look up at my new husband. "What do we do now?"
He kept his silence for a moment or two before responding. "I would like to leave Skyrim as soon as possible. All of eastern Skyrim believes I am the Butcher of Windhelm; I can't stay here. Maybe I'll go to Cyrodiil." He sighed. "And, Ophelia, don't follow me."
I hadn't expected him to say it outright. I had thought he would have at least beat around the bush a little bit, maybe allude to it vaguely. After a few incomprehensible croaks escaped my throat, I managed to squeak, "Wh-what? Why?" I looked up at him with wide eyes.
"For your own safety," he answered, "I'm at the last of my magicka. I don't think I'll be able to hold up my disguise for much longer. It would be beyond dangerous for you to travel with me."
"But -!"
He placed a hand over my mouth to silence me. "No. Don't say it. I know what you're going to say. Don't say it." He removed his hand and stared me down. "Think of yourself. Think of the child you carry. The journey to Cyrodiil will be long and hard, and we'd have to cross the Jerral Mountains at the Pale Pass, and that's near Falkreath. It would take days, and crossing the pass will be hard on you." He pointed to my stomach. "Losing one child in a lifetime is hard enough, I'm sure, but there's a chance you might lose this one if you make this journey with me. And what of your own life? If you're discovered with the Butcher, you'd be considered my accomplice. You'd be killed without hesitation. How could you possibly risk that when you have so much life before you?"
"Do you remember what the priest said at the ceremony?" I said, "He said that a life lived alone is no life at all." I toyed with the ring around my finger and noticed that carvings of entwining ivy vines ran across the metal. When I looked at Theldyn's, I saw that they were indeed identical. "I'm coming with you."
With a pained expression on his face, Theldyn ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "Ophelia. I... I don't understand you. With - well, the way you just are - you could have any man in the world. I'm sure of it. Why risk your life and throw away your entire future to stay with me? I'm an ex-bandit convicted of several counts of murder and necromancy and I don't have a single septim to my name."
It took me a moment to find the right words. "Theldyn. Time and time again I have fallen into more and more of life's pitfalls, until I finally thought I had hit rock bottom as Herbjørn's bedslave. I seriously thought that I would spend the rest of my life and sooner or later die in that hellish camp, at least, that was until you teased me with some bread and cheese." I almost laughed at the memory. "And then you showed me your magic, and told me about yourself. I didn't want to like you, since you were a bandit too, but you were pretty good at it. You became my friend and savior. You became the only star in my dark world, and saved me from the maddening darkness. You still are, Theldyn. Without you, well, I don't know what I would do."
He inhaled sharply. "Ophelia. You're a strong young woman. You'll find someone else. You'll be happier without me in your life."
I clutched folds of my dresses and held them so tightly my knuckles turned white. "No I won't." I said with a slightly wavering voice, "Please don't leave me."
Evidently distressed at what I was saying, he buried his head in his hands and hissed, "Let me go, Ophelia. Don't come with me."
"But-"
"Please!" he shouted suddenly, shooting a glare at me up between his fingers.
I knew this was the way it was going to be. I knew he wanted to leave. In fact, I had anticipated it. But why did it still hurt as if I hadn't? Keeping back tears, I said, "Well. Then tell me the real reason why you want to go alone."
He sighed. "Will you let me go if I tell you?"
I bit my lip. Could I? Could I really let him go? After all, I had the contract in my boot. If I wanted, I could always force him to stay. But could I do that either? I doubted I could. I didn't want to force anything on him; I just wanted him to stay with me on his accord. "I..." I said weakly, knowing there was no way I could convince him to stay with me, "I promise."
He straightened his back and crossed his arms. "I'm afraid to get closer to you," he said frankly, "this fake marriage crosses the line as is." He removed the ring and set it on the table beside him. I stared at it and felt my heart shatter. "Coming with me to Cyrodiil, staying husband and wife, well... I might grow to love you, Ophelia."
"That's a bad thing?" A hot tear rolled down my cheek.
"Well, put it this way. Sure, we might have a few happy years, but what of afterwards? If you died, would I be able to follow you into death? No, the marque forbids me from killing myself. I would spend the rest of my days without the woman I loved, and spend every waking moment wanting to see you or hear your voice again. I'm an elf; I live at least two hundred more years than you do. If I loved you... I wouldn't be able to live without you. That would be two hundred years of withering away, pining for you. Not pleasant in the long run. Does that make more sense?"
Wiping the tears off of my face, I nodded weakly. "I-I'm sorry, Theldyn. I just don't want to be alone anymore..." I sniffed and rubbed my swollen eyes. Kohl and rouge ran down my cheeks and I probably looked very frightening. At this I laughed a little bit, trying to keep myself from crying harder. "Th-Theldyn. Can I ask you a favor, before I let you go?"
"Of course." he replied.
I rubbed off my smeared make-up with the inside of my sleeve and looked directly at him. Then, quite impulsively, I reached out and picked up the ring Theldyn had removed with one hand and with the other snatched Theldyn's hand. I slipped the ring back onto his finger and smiled weakly at him. "Keep this to remember me by?"
He shook his head and chuckled. "I couldn't possibly forget about you," he pointed to his heart, "after all-"
"Something besides the marque," I said, holding his hand, "I don't want you to remember as your master. I want you to remember me as Ophelia Millais. Does that make more sense?" He nodded and touched the ring. A barely visible smile grew as he traced the ivy engraving. Abruptly, he withdrew his hand and quickly looked out the window.
"It's late," he said, "we should get to sleep." He looked about our little room and with a groan realized it had only one bed. "I hate those guards," he grunted.
"I'll take the floor," I said.
"No, you're pregnant and the floor is cold. I'll sleep on the floor."
"You have a long journey ahead of you," I said, "you need rest."
We bickered about it for a while before Theldyn threw his hands in the air and said something in dunmeri. From the way he said it, I could tell it was something along the lines of a curse word. He crawled into the far side of the bed and huddled himself against the wall, leaving more than enough room for me. I laughed a bit at his exasperation. Taking great care not to invade his space, I got under the blankets and extinguished the candle.
The two of us laid in our spots on the bed, trying our best not to touch one another, but found that neither of us could get enough blanket to keep the both of us adequately warm. And so the space between us got smaller and smaller, until we were back to back, feeling each other's violent shivering running down our spines. It was not long before we flipped over held each other tightly to keep warm, the blankets covering us completely.
As he held me in his arms, I felt my heart beat faster and faster. Feeling his warmth against me, feeling his breath on my face, and his heart beat with mine... I never wanted him to let me go. I nestled myself into his chest and closed my eyes, savoring every moment I had with him. I wished I could stay with him like this forever.
I must've dozed off in his arms, for awareness came back to me when Theldyn shifted and broke away from me. He sat up and did his best not to disturb me as he got out of bed. I heard him rummage through what things Ralof and Sonja had been gracious enough to give us. When he was finished packing his supplies, I heard the door creak open.
"Theldyn, I love you." I whispered just loud enough so he would be able to hear.
He was silent for a moment or two. "Don't." he said simply, and closed the door behind him.
Yay! Finally, more Breton and Her Dragonborn! So sorry for the wait... my laptop no longer can connect to the internet and cannot recognize its own USB ports. So this was trapped on my laptop for the longest time...! Only after I dismantled my laptop and put it back together again did the USB ports finally work again, and I could transfer all of this...
But you don't want to hear about my technical excuses, do you?
Anyway. I hope you enjoyed it and I hope you'll enjoy the next chapters too... I can't wait to write them... they'll be so exciting!
Once again, many thanks to all of you who read and a thousand thanks to those who take the time to leave a review! I love you all!