Skyrim is the property of Bethesda Softworks. I'm grateful for all the reviews, faves, and follows that my stories have garnered in the last few weeks. As to your observation about Aela BassTheatre, I figured that someone as free-spirited as Aela would not like being confronted with slavery. The reason she's being somewhat nasty to Ieago is rather different and discussed in this chapter.
Ainethach, the miners' foreman and de-facto leader of Karthwaisten, was not as forthcoming as I hoped he would be.
"Come on Master Ainethach, we just did you a big favor. There must be something you can tell us. Maybe one of the wagon drivers got drunk and ran his mouth one night?" I tried one last time.
The Breton foreman just shook his head, "I'm sorry Thane. But the one you killed told me that if I were to reveal anything about what was going on in my mines, his friend at the Blue Palace would kill me if his master in Understone Keep didn't get to me first!"
I was about to open my mouth to try again when Aela smacked my arm. "Thank you for your time Ainethach. If you ever need the Companion's services again, feel free to contact us when this war is over," I said to him instead.
Aela led me back to the north in quiet. The last wisp of smoke from the village's smelter was out of sight before she broke the silence.
"His friend at the Blue Palace," Aela repeated.
I nodded and rubbed the bruise on my arm, "Thanks for stopping me before he realized he said too much."
Aela smiled next to me, "All in a day's work, Love."
The Blue Palace was a crowded place that winter. As the widow of Skyrim's High King, Jarl Elisif made it her practice to grant asylum to the loyalist Jarls-in-exile and their households at her palace. It was a wise policy that gave me some hope for the young woman's political future. I noticed that while his steward and housecarl were present, the outspoken Igmund of Markarth was conspicuously absent.
I was directed to the palace's dining hall to find Elisif. Stepping in, I saw the young Jarl stooping over to talk with one of Balgruuf's children. There was a small smile on her face and her eyes were wide as she listened to the boy. Her huge baby-blue eyes turned up to me when she noticed my presence. She stood upright slowly and a few strands of light brown hair fell loose over her small, delicately featured face. I understood in that moment how King Torygg must have fallen hard for her. My own heart melted at the sight of her with Balgruuf's children.
"So you've returned from Sovngarde at last," She greeted, "Now that the dragons have stopped attacking, we might just win this war."
"That is my hope, but I came to discuss something more important today," I replied. I leaned to whisper in her ear, "I met your husband while traveling."
She looked as if I physically struck her, "He is safe in Shor's Hall," I pressed. He told me his only regret is that he left you in tears. He bade me send you his love."
"Harbinger?" Balgruuf's oldest son spoke. Frothar was perhaps twelve, "Do you have anything from father?"
I shook my head, "Just news. He sends his love to all three of you. And a promise that he spends every waking moment working to give you a home to go back to."
"Meet me before my throne in a few minutes, Harbinger," Elisif commanded.
Resting on Jarl Elisif's lap was a beautifully carved ox horn. The both ends were capped with gleaming brass.
"This was my husband's war horn. I don't worship Talos, but he did. I would like you to leave it at a shrine of Talos in his memory. Do this and you will be a Thane when you return," Elisif commanded.
It may well have been the last valuable thing of Torygg's that his loving wife possessed. I took the horn from her hands and left without a word.
A long while later I found myself kneeling before a statue of Talos. Torygg's horn rested at the god's feet among a handful of coins, broken weapons, and even a note from a bereaved husband pinned by a stone. Aela and I were on a spit of land well to the north of Solitude. This was as close to Atmora as one could be and remain in Haafingar. Not far to the north, great islands of ice floating on the current drifted lazily under the winter sun.
The shrine was a statue of a man in armor. Tiber Septim was stepping on the neck of a serpent with a sword poised to drive downward. The 'memorials' in Cyrodiil to our greatest emperor were less graphic. They depicted a clean-shaven Tiber Septim wearing a cloak instead. His right was hand resting over the pommel cap of a great sword with a cruciform hilt. Yet the similarities were there to see: The same downward gestures of power and dominance, the same grim bearing, and the same venerable aspect. Even if I didn't believe in his divinity, I would still revere him as a private does a general who brings victory.
"How does it come to this?" I prayed while Aela looked on, arms crossed and an impatient look on her face. "When you were just a kid on a boat from Atmora, did you know who you would become?" I asked the god of war.
As is the usual case, the Divine being prayed to didn't respond in any way I could notice. I turned and left with Aela's hand in mine.
"She's pretty," Aela remarked of Jordis the Sword-Maiden during a quiet moment in our bedroom the night after Elisif made me a Thane. We were in Proudspire Manor. The three-story mansion had come with my new title and a stunning blonde housecarl.
"I'm spoken for," I replied. I had a good idea where this argument was going. It was after all a question I had been wrestling with myself, but when Aela is upset you do not speak for her.
Her eyebrows shot up and her arms crossed over her chest, "Really?"
I sighed, thinking only to reassure the woman I loved, "Aela you know you're the only one for me."
I reached out to hug her, but the angry woman twisted away, "I'm getting tired of seeing the people I care most about leave Ieago! Skjor promised to be by my side and now he's gone! You've been to Sovngarde once already! Life's too short for promises! Papa, Ma, Skjor, Kodlak, you; I don't want to be left behind again without even the consolation of being a widow!" She yelled. "What we do is so dangerous. I wouldn't want life any other way, but when one of us dies I want to know that the other will find them again!"
Tears inched down her face. My chest heaved at the sight. It was so rare to see Aela in this state and she is seldom more beautiful. I found myself on my knees before her again, my hands clutching hers tightly.
My voice trembled as I looked up at her, "I love you with every shred of my being Aela, but I can't be your husband like this! My lord is an exile. Our home and Jorrvaskr are held by invaders. How can I be worthy of you if I can't even offer you our home and safety?" she tried to pull out of my grip, but I held tight, "I promise you Aela. When we can go home; not to this house in a strange city, our home. When our friends can bear witness. Whatever else might be, I will make you my wife!"
That night we held each other fiercely in the aftershocks of our fight, making love while wrapped tight in the blankets of our bed.
I woke up freezing cold in the middle of our bed early the next morning. I looked over to see that I had driven Aela to the edge, but she took most of the blankets with her.
"We need to work on this," I said, not sure if I was referring to our argument last night or the situation when I woke up.
She woke quickly and laughed at the situation. It occurred to me that she and I had been sleeping together for a long while, but only a handful times shared a full-sized bed.
"We've been on the roads almost a year," she observed quietly.
The fatigue brought on by that thought made me desire nothing more than to drag one of the blankets away from her and go back to sleep.
Months on end wandering the wilderness. Is this the best I can offer her?
I sighed and got up, pulling on my legionary armor piece by piece. Steward Firebeard indicated that I would be expected early to attend court. Aela appropriated one of my tunics and padded downstairs while I was getting dressed. I came down to the kitchen to see that she had a fire going and water heating in a kettle for the morning coffee. Breakfast was had in an easy silence. I was almost overwhelmed by the surreal thought of the Dragonborn and his werewolf girlfriend enjoying a quiet domestic ritual. The spell was broken when she kissed me goodbye at the door.
"Don't keep me waiting, Love. I don't want to spend the whole day sitting back on my haunches."
Among my models for Aela's character (there are several) is a beloved pet dog that has since passed away. I was her third owner by the time I adopted her. Her chief neurosis was a fear of being left behind. Given that Aela has seen so many people close to her go where she can't follow yet, I'm guessing that she shares this fear. I feel it reflects poorly on Ieago that since asking for her hand (almost a year ago at this point,) he hasn't done much recognize and allay her fears.