Lakeview Manor
"Alfarinn?" Gunjar's eyes widened at the Windhelm carriage driver coming through Miraak's portal. "Is that you?!" He moved to take some of Alfarinn's groceries and lay them in the carriage bed.
"Gunjar!" Alfarinn wheeled around from his stock and spread his arms wide. The two Nords laughed pulled each other into tight bear hugs amidst their uproarious laughter.
"You two know each other?" Sal asked, confuzzled.
"Of course!" Alfarinn patted Gunjar on the back after they'd broken their hug. "All the carriage drivers across Skyrim know each other. It's sort of like a network everyone's a part of." He put his hands together, interlacing his fingers to emphasize his point. "Kinda hard to explain; don't worry about it."
Turning to Gunjar, he grinned from ear to ear and placed his hands on his fellow carriage driver's shoulders. "Well, they're in your hands now, Gun. They're good Argonians. They'll treat you well like part of their family. You take care of them, you hear?"
"Don't worry, Al," Gunjar grinned from ear to ear and patted Alfarinn's hands. "I'll tend their every transportation need or die trying."
"And with that," Alfarinn removed his hands from Gunjar's shoulders. He turned to face Sal and Shahvee and made an elaborate and low bow. "I officially turn them over to you. I'd love to stay and live in this beautiful house, but I'm still needed in Windhelm."
He straightened up and put a hand to his heart. "Eastmarch will always be my home. I couldn't leave it even if I tried."
"Please don't be a stranger, Alfarinn," Shahvee came up to the Nord, hands clasped daintily above her waist. "You and Misty will always be welcome here."
"Thank you, Shahvee," Alfarinn nodded to reassure her, taking her hands in his. He cradled her fingers in his. "We'll never forget you. It's been a tremendous honor to serve both you and your family. Misty and I will come visit every chance we get."
Both Sal and Shahvee hugged Alfarinn. Misty, already harnessed to her carriage, neighed at Sal's approach.
"Thank you, Misty," he reached out his gentle hands to stroke her mane and the underside of her jaw. "For everything."
Misty let out an affectionate low whinny in response and nudged Sal's face with her nose several times. Sal laughed out loud and hugged the horse around her neck, tucking the side of his face onto hers.
"I'm going to miss you, too, girl. Please feel free to come and visit anytime. I love you so much."
Everyone gathered to say their farewells. Alfarinn hugged all the Argonians and Lydia. He shook Rayya and Llewellyn's hands. He and Gunjar shared good-natured headbutts, ear-to-ear grins with hearty chuckles, and strong pats on the shoulders. Finally, he exchanged Miraak a courteous, wordless nod with Miraak.
At last, he climbed into the driver's seat of his carriage. The others waved and called goodbye until Nord and horse were nothing but shapeless specks in the distance of the Falkreath forests.
Then all five Argonians turned to regard their new home.
"What in the name of the Hist—?!"
The completed Lakeview Manor towered over the nonplussed Argonians. A giant Main Hall had been adjoined to the Small House. Chartreuse tiles topped by two rectangular stone chimneys formed the lengthy crown.
Wide orthogonal porches flanked the south, west, and east sides of the house. Wooden staircases on either side of each porch angled downward to the ground. Three more rectangular buildings encircled the wings, each with their own individual orthogonal porches. Triangular glass passageways connected them to each other and to the greater house. A second set of glass hallways connected the house to a trio of lofty and balconied wooden towers.
"I will admit I may have gotten a little bit carried away…" Miraak confessed in an out-of-character sheepish tone.
"A little bit?!" Sal snatched The Beginner's Guide to Homesteading from where Miraak had left it on the Carpenter's Workbench, and flipped through it in frantic haste.
"Miraak, you must've built every single thing in the whole damn book!" He showed the book to the Dragon Priest. It lay open on the page detailing the Enchanter's Tower, with its matching illustration.
"Oh, Sal-Gheel, it's perfect!" A grinning Shahvee placed a hand of excitement on her husband's chest to quell his anxiety. His initial surprise dripping from him like water, Sal couldn't help the beaming smile spreading across his face. He passed the Guide to Scouts-Many-Marshes.
"Perhaps I enjoyed myself too much," Miraak gave the manor a thoughtful glance. But then he made a nonchalant, innocent shrug and nodded at the Argonians. "But does it matter? You now have a house and home. It is yours. 5000 gold well worth it."
He waved a hand towards the front door. "Shall we take the grand tour?"
"Are my eggs safe?" Shahvee approached the noisy spherical watery veil that Miraak had earlier conjured around her eggs. It hovered several feet off the ground, as if supported by some unseen magic. It dripped fresh water onto the grass and dirt below like a bubbling stream over rock and stone.
"They are more than well-protected," Miraak gave Shahvee a nod of reassurance. "Nothing mundane or magical can penetrate the veil unless I explicitly allow it. Your eggs are quite safe, as are the hatchlings inside."
He traced his gloved hands over the shape of the sizable sphere. "In fact, I speculate that this protective veil may even serve to reduce their incubation time."
"I suppose that's better than leaving them out in the frosty cold or the sweltering sun," Shahvee nodded her agreement. Pressing delicate hands to the watery orb, she gave her eggs a longing gaze. "Thank you, Miraak."
"Come on, everyone." Sal already stood at the top of the stone steps of the house. Putting one hand on the front door, he beckoned to everyone with the other. "Let's take a tour of our new home!"
As soon as the group opened the front door, a swell of homely warmth washed over them. All let out collective gasps and exhales of wonder.
The Small House had been remodeled and fully furnished into a sizable rectangular entryway. Wall sconces in the shapes of inverted goat's horns burned bright with perpetual Dragon's flames. Their bold and brilliant fiery lights illuminated the midsized passageway.
When Scouts-Many-Marshes stretched out his curious hands towards the elevated ceiling above, it scarcely reached the hanging rafters. Mounted animal heads dotted the spaces on the walls between the furnishings. Neetrenaza bared his fangs at a black wolf head in a half-playful, half-aggressive grin.
"How expensive this is!" Shahvee knelt to examine a maroon rug laying on the floor beneath one of the low tables. "Very distinguished." She brushed her clawed fingers through soft and waxy red silk.
Sal approached abreast of the table. He leaned over to examine the spotless lid of the glass display case sitting upon it. His own horned and feathered reflection stared directly back at him. He untied Dragonbane from his waist and flipped open the lid of the case.
"Until I have need of you again, old friend." He smiled at the sheathed Akaviri katana. He tucked his other hand underneath the tip end of the blade and lowered it into the display case. His hands brushed against smooth, slightly fuzzy bloodred velvet.
Creak! Click! The case locked shut of its own accord when he withdrew his hands from it.
"There must be magic in this house, darling," Shahvee observed in an awed whisper to her husband. She stood to her feet and shot a discreet glance over her shoulder to inspect the rest of the entryway, as though she expected to catch a glimpse of some kind of arcane essence.
"I feel it, too, Shav," Sal chuckled, tucking his hands in his pockets. He leaned back against the table, watching the others explore the space. "It's so tangible you can feel it in your nerves. Given who built this place, I'm not surprised."
"Much as I relish the sight of you inspecting this area," Miraak strode silent and intangible through the group to the door at the opposite end of the room. He used his telekinesis to brush specks of dust from one of the standing shelves in a nearby corner. "This is only a taste—what you would call an 'appetizer'—of what is to come. Follow me and behold your brand-new home!"
He outstretched his hand at the double doors. They blew open with dramatic creaks!
"Whoa!" the Argonians exclaimed in unison at the tops of their lungs.
They crossed the threshold from the entryway and emerged into a towering, glorious, gallant main hall.
"Xuth!" Scouts-Many-Marshes's jaw dropped, and his eyes widened. "Look at the size of this place!" The Guide slipped from his idle, drooping hands. Stands-in-Shallows seized it just before it hit the floor.
"Oh, Sal-Gheel!" Shahvee clapped her hands to her cheeks, her eyes twinkling like evening stars. "It's expansive! So much room!"
"Look at all this space, Sal!" Lydia swung into the open space between them and a lengthy dining table, around which no less than eleven chairs stood, The Nord maiden threw her arms out wide and twirled around in place. "It must be like, what, four, five times the size of Breezehome?"
"Hey, stairs!" Neetrenaza took off like an arrow shot from a bowstring and bounded up one of the twin staircases that bordered the hall. He ascended to the second level, from which he leaned over the railing to look down on the ground floor below.
"A two-story house! Can you believe it? This is so much cooler than the Assemblage! Hello down there!"
Scouts-Many-Marshes hurried up the stairs on the opposite side and rushed down the length of the platform, disappearing into the next room. "Wow, there's bedrooms up here!" he called out from within. "Neet! There are doors in the walls!"
Neetrenaza did the same from his side. Both could be heard exclaiming from within the second floor.
"It's as though they're inside the walls themselves!" Neetrenaza declared. "I call the third one from the left!"
"I'll take the one to your right, then!" added Scouts-Many-Marshes, a delightful laugh mingling with his speech. "That way we can be next-door neighbors!"
"Ooh, perhaps we can ask Miraak to remove the walls so this can all be one large room?" Neetrenaza suggested in the utmost excitement. "That way, us and Shallows can be together!"
"'You may decide the Small House is not enough – perhaps you need more room for a growing family?'" Stands-in-Shallows read from The Beginner's Guide to Homesteading. "'The next step is to add a Main Hall, which will turn your cottage into an imposing manor house: two floors, including space for two small bedrooms, a back room, and a large dining area.'"
"Indeed," Miraak made a confirmatory nod. "'You are in the dining area now, as you can clearly see."
"What's that over there?" Sal pointed a curious finger to the North Wing at the end of the hall. He removed his messenger bag and placed it upon one of the chairs at the dining table.
"The Storage Room," Miraak jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction that Sal had pointed. "Beyond, the Greenhouse, for all your gardening needs and green thumb enthusiasms. I've also taken the liberty of making the essential wings the most accessible. For example…"
He stretched out a hand towards the west side. "In the West Wing is your master bedroom." He pointed two fingersat Sal and Shahvee. "Attached to it is the Armory."
With his other hand he indicated the east side. "And that there is your Kitchen and the Trophy Room. Should you ever have houseguests, it would be useful for displaying your prizes and wild hunted game."
"A Kitchen?!" In a sudden spike of excitement, Shahvee bolted away in that direction—nearly bowling over her husband in the process. Sal, Lydia, and Rayya followed close behind.
"Wow!" To their astonishment, the double doors of the East Wing swung open of their own accord at their immediate approach.
"Gunjar and I prefer to stick together," the concerned Llewellyn approached Miraak, Gunjar in tow.
"We'll take the two beds out in the hallway, if that's all right," Gunjar pointed a finger towards the upstairs west wing.
"I'm gonna go check out the Armory." Llewellyn informed his fellow Nords. Giving Gunjar and Miraak a nod, he left the Main Hall.
"I'll go and see about that Greenhouse, too," Stands-in-Shallows left for the West Wing, taking The Beginner's Guide to Homesteading with him.
Meanwhile, Rayya and Lydia failed to suppress their grins and snickers as they watched Shahvee dash from corner to corner about the humble kitchen. Sal beamed with pride at his wife's antics of unfettered enthusiasm.
"Imagine the kinds of things we can bake with this oven, Sal!" Shahvee called out to her husband, running her hands and arms over the large, shelved, chest-height clay oven. She practically laid her upper body over its domed head. "Fruit pies, bread, berry tarts! Sweetrolls! Dumplings! The possibilities are endless! Oh, I'm already getting hungry just thinking about it!" She licked and smacked her salivating lips.
Out of curiosity, Sal picked up the wooden staff standing inside the butter churn. "Look at this, Shav. We could make butter out of this to go with our bread!" He then stopped and rubbed his chin, thinking. "Hmm, but we'd need to have milk first."
"You know, if we attach an animal pen to the house," Rayya spoke up, raising a knowing finger. "We can buy a cow that will provide us with milk every day. I have many fond memories of a cow my parents owned when I was growing up in Falkreath. And I kid you not, we named him Cyrus. After Cyrus the Restless, the great Redguard rebel and hero from the Second Era."
"Good thinking, Rayya," Sal dropped the staff inside the butter churn. "We'll consider buying a cow. Chickens, too, if we can make room for them."
He turned round to lean down over the fireplace that stood in the center of the kitchen's east wall.
"YOL!" His Fire Breath lit the logs in the stone fireplace ablaze. A lively fire blazed behind an empty cooking pot, thick wisps of black smoke rising safely upward to the chimney above. Orange-yellow flames gleamed in the eyes of the horker head mounted over the mantelpiece. A palpable smell of burning firewood permeated the kitchen.
"YOL!" Miraak's Shout reverberated off the walls in instantaneous response.
"All right, I've had my fun," a grinning Shahvee led the way out of the Kitchen. She held out her hand for her husband to take. "Let's move on, love."
"You guys go on ahead," Lydia moved to turn back to the east wing. "I'm going to go check out the Trophy Room."
"I'll go with you!" Rayya dashed over to Lydia's side. The two exchanged fist-bumps.
"Trophy Room?" Sal raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise as Lydia and Rayya took off through a transparent, triangular glass hallway adjoined to an open gap in the Kitchen. "Do we even need a Trophy Room?" he asked Shahvee, every line of his face creased with skepticism.
"I don't really think so," Shahvee wrapped one arm around her husband's and clung to the underside of his elbow. "But I'm sure we'll find some use for it."
They reunited with Miraak in the Main Hall. He had also lit a hearty fire in the central hearth. The faint scent of fresh charcoal teased at everyone's nostrils. Miraak picked up a Cast Iron Pot sitting on the floor and placed it lengthwise on the mantelpiece above.
As they entered the back room adjoining the Hall to the Storage Room, a small trapdoor in the floor suddenly opened wide. Its loud bang! as it slammed on the floor caused everyone except Miraak to flinch. From the empty space within, Gunjar poked his bald head out.
"Friends!" he enthusiastically announced, a broad grin lighting his face. "You have a Cellar!"
"A Cellar?" Shahvee exclaimed in surprise. "What could we possibly need a Cellar for?" She asked Sal, her brow furrowed in anxious confusion.
"You won't know until you find out! Come on!" Gunjar whooped and vanished once more beneath the trapdoor. Miraak tailed closed behind.
Sal and Shahvee stared at each other, hesitant at first. Then Sal made a nonchalant shrug and released his arm from hers. Whether out of anxious curiosity or subdued trepidation, he could not tell. But he swiftly descended the ladder leading down into the mysterious cellar. Shahvee climbed down behind him, after some hesitation.
"Whew! Bit dusty in here." Sal commented when he reached the dirty floor below. He waved his hand in front of his nostrils to waft away dust and dirt in the air. His other hand he outstretched to help Shahvee down from the ladder.
"Perhaps you may consider placing shrines to the Nine Divines here upon these bases," Miraak explained to Sal once he had reached the bottom. They observed a large and lengthy stone shrine base occupying the center of the west wall. From the next room over, the careful, heavy pumping of a blacksmith's forge filled the entire Cellar space.
"One to the Hist as well, mayhap?" Shahvee wondered. She took Sal's hand to help her off the ladder. "And perhaps one for Sithis?"
She gestured with one hand to the empty wall spaces on either side of the shrine base. "Hang it on the wall or something?"
"If you can make the space for it," Miraak gave a stiff nod of compliance. "If not, I can create as much additional space as you need." The Dragon Priest folded his arms over his chest, thinking out loud. "I've no doubt that that primal being you call Sithis would be most appreciative of the veneration."
"I just realized, my love," Shahvee explained in a low voice to her husband, and relinked her arm with his. "How are we ever going to keep a home of this size clean all the time?"
"Don't worry, Shahvee," Sal patted his wife's hand wrapped around his elbow. "There are plenty of us to work to keep this place spotless. Besides," he pointed a reassuring finger to Miraak. "We've got him, remember?" Shahvee chuckled and nodded in understanding.
Further on, no less than eleven glass-paned freshwater alcoves in varying sizes lined a network of eastern hallways past the wine cellar.
"Are those…fish tanks down there?" Sal asked Miraak, while Shahvee inspected the blacksmith's forge in the next room. "Is this an aquarium you've built?"
"I deemed it appropriate considering the house's vicinity to the lake," the blunt Miraak explained, coming abreast of him.
"We'll fill the tanks with the fish we catch in the lake, Sal!" Shahvee suggested, coming up beside her husband once more. The anticipation in her voice was unmistakable.
"That's a brilliant idea, Shahvee!" Sal nodded his approval, but then he heaved out an anxious exhale. "Here's hoping Gray Pine Goods in Falkreath stocks fish food."
They exited the Cellar and ascended back into the Main Hall. The others were seated at the grand dining table, chatting amongst themselves in eager tones and animated gestures. Bottles of Nord Mead, Alto Wine, and ale stood proud and tall upon the clothed tabletop, alongside Sal's messenger bag.
"Shahvee!" Neetrenaza practically leaped up from his chair at the sight of the Argonian maiden. "There are doors on the upstairs walls! It's like the bedrooms are magically inside the walls of the house! Yet the external dimensions appear completely unchanged!"
"And each comes with its own window!" Scouts-Many-Marshes jumped to his feet and put up a remarking finger. "The views of the Falkreath landscape are breathtaking!"
"Trophy Room's a bit excessive, but I can't complain," Lydia chimed in, her hands clasped together on the table, fingers interlaced. "I wonder what kinds of displays we'll place upon those bases. Bears, wolves, Draugr? Dwemer constructs?"
"Armory's full of wooden mannequins and display cases," Llewellyn turned around in his seat to speak to Sal and Shahvee behind him. "Good for showing off your old armor and favorite weapons when you don't need them."
"The Greenhouse has planters and plants all over the place," Stands-in-Shallows, sitting at the far end of the table, finished. "Fresh Hanging Moss on the timber beams; torchbugs, beehives and bees. I can't wait to start planting and growing plants and potion ingredients in it," he expressed with an excited chuckle.
"Anything and everything else that wouldn't fit anyplace, you just keep it in the Storage Room!" Rayya laughed, concluding the discourse. "You know, Sal-Gheel, Shahvee…"
She stood up, dropping her voice to a moderate volume. "A good steading like this needs a Steward. I'd be honored to take on the position, if you would like. I can officially employ Gunjar and Llewellyn as your carriage driver and bard. I'll buy animals for our use. Whatever resources or materials we may end up short on in the future, I can personally buy with my own money."
She jerked a thumb at herself. "If you need a Steward, I'm your Redguard."
Sal and Shahvee shared a confident and knowing smile.
"Rayya," Sal grinned and showed his fangs. "You're hired."
"Yes!" Rayya pumped her fist in the air, much to the amusement and cheers of the rest. "I promise I won't let you down!"
She raised her hand to her brow in a militaristic salute. Then, turning to Gunjar and Llewellyn, she asked, "Well, distinguished gentlemen. How much to hire you?"
"500 gold is all I need, and I'm yours," Gunjar held out his hands for the money.
"1500," Llewellyn explained, lifting a bottle of Nord Mead to his lips. They spent a few minutes counting out gold from the bulging coinpurses in Sal's bag.
"All right! We're in business, Llewellyn!" the eager Gunjar shook his coinpurse, while Llewellyn leapt a foot in the air with delight. Gunjar wheeled on his heels and strode out of the hall. "I left my carriage outside; not far. Gonna bring it over, be right back!"
After Gunjar left, Sal approached Llewellyn. "So, how do you and Gunjar know each other?"
"Gunjar was a close friend of my parents when I was growing up," explained the young bard, already removing his lute that had been strapped across his back. "They both passed away many years ago. My mother first when I was twelve, then my father six years later."
He fell silent for a moment, a silence which Sal dared not interrupt. Llewellyn averted his eyes, biting his lip. "Gunjar took me in, raised me in Falkreath. Been like a father to me ever since."
"That's wonderful," Sal smiled, his eyes twinkling. "I'm very sorry to hear about your parents, Llewellyn. I know how it feels to lose the ones who birthed you."
Llewellyn nodded his wordless assent and began tuning his lute.
Suddenly, Shahvee yanked Sal away in the direction of the West Wing. "There's one final place we need to see, dear husband."
"Right, I totally forgot, Shahvee." Sal surrendered to his wife's enthusiastic urgings. "Our bedroom!"
But the master bedroom doors did not open of their own will at their approach. "For yours and your children's privacy," Miraak explained when they inquired.
Unperturbed, Sal and Shahvee each grasped a handle on one of the double doors.
"Ready?" Sal asked, a bright smile upon his beaming face.
"Ready," Shahvee replied. Her eyes gleamed in the light of the wall sconces. Together, they pushed the master bedroom doors open.
"Oh!" Shahvee exclaimed in wonder as they stepped into the room. Sal, speechless, exhaled in amazement.
Two patterned golden rugs on the floor caught Sal's attention first. Slipping off his shoes, an amused laugh escaped him when he rubbed his playful toes between the soft, silky, and luxurious draped fabric. He and Shahvee split to either end of the bedroom.
Curious, he lay down on a large double bed (his feet scarcely brushed against the footboard) and rested his head back on thick cotton pillows wrapped in the finest silk pillowcases. A green linen blanket with sun-yellow lining neatly covered the breadth of the bed. Lifting his head, he could see two identical child-sized beds in the northwest and northeast corners of the room.
Shahvee brushed thin layers of dust away from the chests that sat at the feet of each child-sized bed. She knelt and pressed her gentle hands into the blanket on the left-side bed, then the right. Warm tears sprang to her eyes. She began to sob and sniffle. Not of sadness, Sal noticed; but of joy and happiness.
Smiling, he swung sideways off the double bed, stood up, and crossed the room to her. He waved a playful hand through the lit flame of a goat-horn sconce sitting upon a half-sized dining table.
Shahvee stood up straight and wrapped her arms around her husband's neck, shaking from her audible sobs of rejoicing. Turning to gaze at the empty children's beds, she placed one hand on his chest, the other remaining around his nape.
Sal wrapped one arm around his wife's shoulders. The other encircled about her waist. He couldn't stop the loving grin spreading across his face, and he planted loving kisses on Shahvee's temples. She kissed him in return with tear-stained excitement. Her heart soared with hope and anticipation in her chest.
"Are you happy, my darling?"
"Oh, yes. Yes. Completely."
Lake Ilinalta
"Ilinalta!"
Masser and Secunda rose high over Falkreath Hold that night. Scouts-Many-Marshes led the way down to the great Lake Ilinalta. He shuffled his boots off his feet and laid them aside on the dry shores. Then he stripped off his tunic and laid it on top of his shoes.
"Whoo!" He leaped feet-first into the lake water wearing only his loincloth. SPLASH! His ball-shaped jump displaced water in every direction.
Without hesitation, Sal-Gheel performed an elegant straight dive into the water. Neetrenaza twirled and spun in the air before also making a sizable splash. Ragged robes-wearing Stands-in-Shallows clambered in, wading for a moment to test the depths and temperature. All four male Argonians slipped beneath the water; their forms barely visible beneath the perpetual Ilinalta current.
Sal broke the surface first, his head and neck emerging. Next, Stands-in-Shallows, shaking water from his head, as did Neetrenaza, wiping water from his eyes. Finally, Scouts-Many-Marshes popped up half a meter away. He clenched a freshly-caught salmon between his fangs. Sal then bent backwards, his feet and tail flopping upwards as he vanished beneath the water once more.
"I still can't believe all that happened to you and Sal-Gheel," Rayya remarked, pulling her knees up to her chest. She gazed at Lydia with awestuck wonder. They sat with Shahvee on the nearby lake banks. "What you two endured and what you accomplished. The Thalmor…Alduin the World-Eater…It's all just so…unthinkable."
"The Thalmor got what was coming to them," Lydia watched Scouts-Many-Marshes climb out of the water and spit out the salmon in a wooden box. He then climbed back into the lake. "They defiled the Dragonborn, and they paid the price for it with their lives."
"And what of Alduin?" Rayya glanced in her peripheral vision at Neetrenaza and Stands-in-Shallows splashing each other like playful hatchlings.
"As for Alduin…" Lydia thought aloud, leaning back against a smooth rock. She stretched her legs out in front of her and crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, Sal-Gheel defeated the true World-Eater in Sovngarde a year ago. What he and Miraak fought was only a lingering malignant memory in Sal's mind that haunted him. To be free, he had to vanquish Alduin all over again. For good this time."
"And to think…" Rayya whispered, awed. She stared out at the distant horizon hanging over the humongous lake. "Sal's solution to regaining his powers lay inside of himself all along."
"Which means that the Thalmor set up their own means of defeat, if not unwittingly," Lydia concluded the thought for the Redguard. "When they used the Apocalypse Anathema to strip Sal of all the Dragon Souls he had collected, they inadvertently freed Miraak as well. So, Sal-Gheel reabsorbed Miraak back into him, and restored his Thu'um in the process."
"Well, all's said and done, and Skyrim is better for it," Rayya lay down on the grass, putting her hands behind her head. She closed her eyes and exhaled, relaxing and soaking in the evening moonlight.
"So Alfarinn told me on our way out of Ivarstead that this lake is the source of the White River," Lydia told Shahvee, tracing a line through the air pointing eastward. "It flows through Riverwood and over a series of waterfalls and rapids before turning over into Whiterun's plains. Past the Valtheim Towers it flows into a narrow bed and then turns to the north to Windhelm. Finally, it ends at the Sea of Ghosts, near Dunmeth Pass."
"I do recall reading from a book in Windhelm that its two tributaries are the Darkwater and Yorgrim Rivers," Shahvee followed Lydia's pointing with her eyes.
"You read correct," Gunjar appeared behind the three ladies from the cliffside. He held a fishing rod over one shoulder, to which a fresh worm had already been affixed. A square-shaped box of worms lay tucked in the crook of his other arm. "You've got a sharp mind on you, Shahvee. It'll be a great honor to serve you and your family. But in the meantime, I'm just here for the fishing."
Nodding to each of the maidens, he walked off to one of the ledges that rose above the lake. He set down his box of bait and sat down. His legs dangled over the side.
Whip! He cast out his line. Plop! It fell with grace into the lake safely away from the swimming Argonians.
Splash! Splosh! The sound of wet footsteps upon the banks drew Lydia and Shahvee's attention. Sal, shirtless and dripping wet from head to tail to toes, came towards them. He was running a hand through his soaked scalp feathers and grinning from ear to ear. His forehead horns glittered in the scattered starlight. Back in the water, Scouts-Many-Marshes had resurfaced, bobbing and weaving through the others' wild splashing antics.
"Hello, darling," Shahvee reached out her hand to him. Sal placed his palm in his wife's and helped her to her feet. Her hand then roved over his drenched upper body, exploring him.
"Hey, sexy," Lydia teased Sal in an unsubtly flirtatious voice, smirking. Rayya chuckled while Shahvee laughed out loud.
"Been far too long since I've had a good swim," Sal laughed as he massaged Shahvee's back. "Why don't you come join us, Shav? The water isn't nearly as cold as it was in Windhelm."
"No, thank you, dear," Shahvee kissed Sal's cheek. "I'm more than content watching. Perhaps I'll dip my feet in later."
"Lydia, I just thought of something." Sal explained between decorating Shahvee's face and head with kisses. "I'll have to write to Hrongar about you moving in with us, huh?"
"My father will understand," Lydia reassured the Argonian, shifting her weight where she sat. "I know he's come off in the past as a rather rough and stubborn Nord. But that's only because he's very devout and adherent to the old ways of our people."
Flames of stalwart determination burned in her eyes. "Father has a warrior's honor. He'll know I have pure intentions to remain with all of you. Then he'll let Balgruuf know. My uncle is an intelligent and proactive man; otherwise, he wouldn't be on the throne."
"If Balgruuf approves of you leaving Whiterun and living with us, what then?" Shahvee asked, tracing Sal's pectorals with a tender claw.
"He and his court will buy back Breezehome," Lydia continued, plucking a lone Blue Mountain Flower from the dirt and turning it over in her hand. "We'll get all the money. Then it'll be theirs again for another potential homeowner to buy as they please." She tossed the flower into the water and watched as the current carried it adrift.
"Breezehome is better in the hands of those who actually need it," Sal agreed, picking up his shirt and wiping his brow and face with it. "Than in the hands of someone who'll never be there. See that?"
He gestured with his wet shirt at the manor sitting atop the cliff. "That is our new home now. A home we built with our own two hands. Or, I guess, Miraak's hands."
"What are those over there?" the puzzled Shahvee pointed a finger at the semicircle of towers adjoined to the house by glass tunnels.
"The Enchanter's Tower," Sal named off each tower one by one clockwise. "The Alchemy Laboratory, and the Library."
"The Hist! The Hist! The Hist!" A unison exclamatory cry suddenly arose from the three Argonians in the lake.
All eyes and ears turned to a moderately-sized island sitting in the center of Lake Ilinalta. In the center of a circular pool of glowing amber-colored liquid, a towering, glimmering, ethereal spore tree had appeared. Every shade on the visible spectrum colored its glistening veined leaves and thick branches that reached high into the sky.
Scouts-Many-Marshes sat on his heels staring up at the tree. Neetrenaza too knelt; head bowed and hands clasped together in prayer. Stands-in-Shallows sat straight up on his knees, arms up in the air. He swayed from side to side as if in a hypnotic trance. All three chanted in dramatic Jel.
"Look, Sal-Gheel, look!" Shahvee patted her mate's shoulder and pointed out at the tree.
"I see it, Shav," Sal stared at the tree, fascinated, yet quizzical. "But what is it?"
"A spectral Hist tree!" Shahvee clapped her hands to her face, her eyes widening in awe. "I thought they were only myths!"
"I've read of these in the tomes of Apocrypha," Miraak added, materializing from phasing through the trees on the cliffside. "I never imagined they existed. To think that one should manifest in the Mundus, and here in Skyrim, no less, can be no coincidence!"
"Wow!" Lydia climbed to her feet, as did Rayya. "Rayya, look! It's beautiful, in an entrancing sort of way."
"Do you think it'll object to us non-Argonians touching it?" Rayya asked, already making for the water. On the ledge, Gunjar and Llewellyn watched in equally astonished and perplexed silence.
"Sal, do you know what this means?" Shahvee wrapped her arms around Sal's shoulders, now bouncing on the balls of her feet. "We can use this as a spawning pool! We'll lay the eggs here, and the Hist will be able to influence the hatchlings within! Come, husband, we must fetch our eggs!"
As soon as Sal and Shahvee removed their eggs from Miraak's watery veil, the sphere dropped like a dead weight. It shattered into millions of tiny water droplets all over the ground below it.
Carrying their eggs, Sal and Shahvee stepped through a portal that Miraak had conjured. They emerged on the island. The Argonians then spent the next hour building nests of grass, water, and stray tree branches.
"There!" Shahvee stood up after half an hour and put her hands on her hips. She allowed herself a proud nod at the makeshift nests that she and the other Argonians had constructed. They lay partially submerged in the pools of the amber liquid. "Not exactly like the uxiths in Argonia, but they'll do."
"So, what happens now?" Lydia appeared behind them, Rayya at her back. They had waded through the water onto the island. A yard or so away, Gunjar and Llewellyn had returned to their fishing.
"Only time will tell," Shahvee wiped straw from her hands. "We don't get to decide whether the eggs hatch or not." She gazed at the radiant spectral Hist tree illuminating the star-spotted night. "We must leave everything now to the will of the Hist."
"We can take caring for the eggs in turns," Sal also climbed to his feet and wiped his wet hands on his body. "For now, we should get started on moving into our new house."
"Yeah!" Stands-in-Shallows pumped a fist in the air, leaping out of the water. "Let's get unpacking!"
"All right!" "Praise the Hist!" Neetrenaza and Scouts-Many-Marshes rang out. They proceeded to swim back to the shore.
Turning to her husband, Shahvee placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I'll take the first watch, love. You can go help the others with the move-in if you like."
Sal made a momentary glance at the spectral Hist. Then one at his eggs. Then back at Shahvee. "You know, you're right. I trust you, Shahvee. I'll go help the others. Then I'll write that letter to your father," he told Lydia, who smiled and nodded in response.
Sal and Shahvee shared a quick passionate kiss. He kissed Lydia on the cheek, and high-fived and hugged Rayya on his way off the island. He leaped into the water after his egg-brothers.
"I will leave this portal here permanently," Miraak informed the ladies. "For your convenience." He crossed through it and vanished, reappearing a second later in front of the manor.
"All right. Let's see here…" Shahvee returned to her kneeling position beside her eggs. "You see this?" she pointed out to Lydia and Rayya. "The golden luster on the eggshells?" Her finger traced along a glimmering golden sheen coating the eggs. "Their thick membranes? The full shadows that they cast and their wet surfaces? All that means that the eggs are healthy."
Lydia knelt beside Shahvee and ran her tender hands over the eggs. "Hey, maybe that watery sphere thing Miraak created for them helped keep them that way."
"I've been wondering the same, Lydia," Shahvee rubbed her chin, thinking. "Perhaps they may hatch earlier than we expect. But again," she pointed towards the glowing tree. "that's for the Hist to choose, not us. Oh, before I forget – you see this?"
She dipped a claw in the strange amber-colored liquid and showed it to the two ladies. "Hist Sap. A substance made from the Hist's very spirit. It's said that when an Argonian drinks the sap, the Hist can communicate with them through visions. It has also been known to increase the combat prowess of those who drink to an unfathomable degree. Surely, you've heard the legend of the An-Xileel who empowered themselves with the mutated Hist Sap, and counter-invaded the Daedra in Black Marsh during the Oblivion Crisis."
Wiping her sap-covered claw on the trunk of the tree, she turned her tone marginally more serious. "But for non-Saxhleel like yourselves, the sap of the Hist is extremely dangerous. It can cause strong hallucinations and send you into a dangerous bloodlust. I wouldn't recommend you drink or bathe in it. Best you keep away for your own safety."
"Oh, no, you don't!" Rayya stomped on a small bug approaching the egg on Shahvee's other side. With a sickening squick it sank beneath the amber pool. "Egg threat neutralized! I'd hate to be that creepy-crawly insect!" She flexed her arms and let out a triumphant laugh. Shahvee and Lydia also laughed and raised their hands to high-five the Redguard, who gladly returned the gesture.
"Way to go, Rayya! That's one way you can help to care for the eggs," Shahvee pointed towards where the once-invasive insect had been crushed and sunk. "Squashing any tiny bugs that may seek to feast on them. Every now and then we'll need to pour water on them, too; to keep the shells moist."
"Anything more?" Rayya asked. She adjusted her scimitar to the back side of her hip and sat cross-legged beside Shahvee.
Shahvee resumed rubbing her chin, wracking her brain for ideas. "Well, I've heard stories of the egg-tenders of the Bright-Throat tribe in Murkmire, who read nursery rhymes and play the flute for their eggs."
"Flute, huh?" Lydia shot a discreet glance over her shoulder at Llewellyn. The Nord bard had reeled his fishing line out of the water. A flopping, freshly-caught Angerflish hung on the end of the hook. Llewellyn whooped at the top of his lungs. Gunjar pumped his fists high in the air, his body shaking from acclamatory cheers.
Lydia felt her face turn hot in an instant. A mild red blush creeped up her neck and onto her cheeks. "M-maybe we can ask Llewellyn t-to play his flute for the eggs?"
"Are you okay, Lydia?" Rayya asked, drawing her eyebrows together and reaching around behind Shahvee to place a hand of concern on Lydia's shoulder.
"Huh?" Lydia snapped back round to the Redguard, her face and neck red. "Y-yeah, yeah, I'm…" she cleared her throat. "I'm fine…"
Rayya glanced at Llewellyn, then back at Lydia, one eyebrow raised. Shahvee chuckled and scooped up handfuls of water to spread over her eggs.
"Anyway, those who tend the Hatching Pools in Shadowfen are known as the Keepers of the Shell," she explained to the other two women. They watched the water drip down the eggshells. "They're said to keep very meticulous records of every single egg that enters the uxith; the couples to whom they were born, how many are born, when they hatch and under which star signs."
"And we're going to become like them?" Lydia wondered aloud. She dipped her hands into the water and scooped up a handful. Lifting her dripping hands over the eggs, she tipped the water onto the moistened shells. Rayya joined in without delay.
"If you want to, of course," Shahvee waved an encouraging hand. "Myself, Sal-Gheel, and the others will work as the main egg-tenders. I certainly wouldn't dare force any of you to obligate yourselves to it. We have our culture, and you have yours."
She used the backs of her hands to brush dust from the eggshells. "But anyone is more than welcome to become a Keeper of the Shell if they so desire."
"To think…" Lydia put her damp hands in her lap, her tone turning contemplative, her eyes nostalgic. "You and Sal-Gheel are going to be parents. It seems like only just yesterday you two were newly married."
"Oh, yes," Shahvee's eyes twinkled like glittering diamonds in the evening starlight. "I've never forgotten."
She closed her eyes and held her hands to her heart, assuming a dreamy expression. "We danced together in the Temple of Mara courtyard. He carried me in his arms through the doors of the Argonian Assemblage – and without dropping me once, might I add!" She pointed a finger of emphasis in the air.
Lydia snickered, grinning from ear to ear. "He's had practice carrying me out of battlefields during the Civil War."
"Then we talked for hours on end that night about the future we would create together," Shahvee continued, wistful. "Just the two of us and our egg-brothers."
She snapped her eyes open and shot furtive glances left and right. Then she dropped her voice to a soft whisper.
"To say nothing of how he performed in bed."
The ladies' giddy and playful laughter echoed across every corner of Lake Ilinalta.
4th of Hearthfire (Nushmeeko)
"Well, looks like we're on thtithil duty today, beekos."
Scouts-Many-Marshes sat flat on his rear at the trunk of the spectral Hist. He bent one knee and extended the other in front of him. His tail curled in a spiral behind his back.
"It's a gorgeous morning, my brothers," Neetrenaza sitting on Scouts-Many-Marshes' right poured water from his cupped hands onto the eggs. "The sun is shining bright and glittering upon the lake. There's not a single cloud in the sky. Flowers are blooming and birds are singing. The fish leap and frolic in and out of the water. Autumn will soon be upon us."
"Not to mention that we're richer than we've ever been in our entire lives," Stands-in-Shallows opposite Neetrenaza added. "We have a home and land to call our own. Greater wealth beyond anything Torbjorn Shatter-Shield could have given us. Two hatchlings who may yet soon join us. Friends and family all around."
On the other side of the spectral Hist tree stood Llewellyn the Nightingale. The mellow and wafting melodies of his wooden flute drifted over the island. The ethereal Hist tree phosphoresced in the morning sunlight.
"I don't believe I've ever heard most of Llewellyn's flute tunes before," Neetrenaza remarked, captivated by the playing bard. "At least not in Skyrim. Where did he get them from?"
"Ancient tunes dating back all the way to the Second Era," Stands-in-Shallows explained, crossing his legs. "Preserved by the Solitude Bards College for our modern times. Songs from places as far out as Morrowind, High Rock, Elsweyr, Cyrodiil, and Summerset."
"Fourth Era, Second Era. Doesn't matter to me." Scouts-Many-Marshes remarked. He cupped his face in his hands and closed his eyes to let the music carry him away. "They're all lovely."
Llewellyn finished his current song, then played one last piece as a finale. The three Argonians all applauded his performance. He responded to the acclaim by taking a humble bow and genuflect.
"You are a marvelous musician, Llewellyn," praised Stands-in-Shallows as the bard came to sit down beside him. "A true master of your craft. We're ever grateful to have you were with us, beek-ojel. I have a feeling that the hatchlings will thank you one day for your service to them."
"Oh!" Llewellyn, taken by authentic surprise, raised his eyebrows and caught his breath. "Um…thank you! Thank you so much!" He clasped his hands together as if in prayer and bowed his head. "It truly is an honor to play for you wonderful and gracious Argonians, and your family. Seems all my training at the College has paid off!"
Stands-in-Shallows reached behind him and pulled a backpack into his lap. Flipping the flap open, he pulled out four bottles of Surilie Brothers Wine.
"Take heart, my brothers." He began passing the wine bottles to each of his companions. "Fortune is in our favor. Indeed, Sithis smiles upon us, my fellow Saxhleel. You as well, mahleel beeko Llewellyn. Your gods have bestowed their graces upon you."
"No argument there!" Llewellyn laughed and took his wine.
"You mentioned that we have greater wealth than anything Torbjorn could give us," Scouts-Many-Marshes took a bottle and passed it to Neetrenaza.
"Xhu," Stands-in-Shallows nodded and passed Scouts-Many-Marshes' wine to him. "Lydia's father Hrongar approved of his daughter moving in with us. Jarl Balgruuf's court bought back Breezehome last Tirdas, and Sal-Gheel, Lydia, and Miraak already cleaned it out. The money should be delivered to us before the end of today."
"Seizo!" Neetrenaza hoisted his uncorked wine high in the air. "The Hist has blessed our family with its favor! Argonian and non-Argonian alike!"
"This is not a time for shunatei, regrets or looking back upon the past," Stands-in-Shallows added, uncorking his wine. "But only forward into the future! Let us step into it with full hearts and open arms! Sithis has woven the threads of ku-vastei. Times of change are upon us!"
"And at this time," Scouts-Many-Marshes likewise raised his wine bottle high. "Life is good! Daril!"
"Daril!" "Cheers!" Cheering, the four clinked their bottles together.
Crack.
The Argonians choked on their drinks in unison.
Crack.
"Gods!" Llewellyn patted Stands-in-Shallows on the back. "Are you all right?"
"Don't worry about us, we're fine!" Shallows pointed an urgent finger at the eggs. "Look!"
The eggs rocked from side to side in rapid bursts of energy. Little cracks were growing on the shells – and growing longer and larger by the second. Chipping, cracking noises could be heard from within. They increased in volume in rapid and sporadic bursts.
"Xuth!" Scouts-Many-Marshes cried out.
"Kaoc!" Neetrenaza exclaimed.
"Waxthuthi!" Stands-in-Shallows exploded.
"Gods above!" Llewellyn clapped his wine bottle to his mouth. "It's happening!"
"We've gotta tell the others right away!" Scouts-Many-Marshes climbed to his feet in a hurry. Llewellyn and Neetrenaza did the same.
"I'll stay here while you go gather everyone else!" Stands-in-Shallows remained sitting, his eyes immovably locked on the eggs. The other three left their unfinished wine bottles in his lap.
"I'll take the portal!" Llewellyn hurried towards Miraak's portal connecting the island to the manor.
"Go on ahead, we'll swim and meet you there!" Neetrenaza agreed, and he and Scouts-Many-Marshes dove deep into the Ilinalta waters.
Minutes later, everyone had gathered on the island.
The tops of both eggs cracked open. Before everyone's eyes, the lids lifted into the air. Amidst a shower of eggshell, small horned, feathered heads emerged from each egg. They lifted their scaled faces into the air to let out creaky squeaky yawns. Their wide eggshells wobbled on their scalps like ill-fitting hats.
Shahvee dropped to her knees, as did Sal-Gheel beside her. Together, they stretched out their arms towards their newborn hatchlings.
The little hatchlings proceeded to chip away at their eggs covering them. Sal, Shahvee, and the other Argonians cleared away the debris. Everyone else gasped and exclaimed when the hatchlings walked with short yet curious steps towards their parents.
"Ruheeva, deeks," Shahvee opened her arms to one of the hatchlings, her voice soft yet bubbly. The hatchling sent tiny harmless splashes of water and Amber Plasm everywhere with its tiny clawed feet. Shahvee's eyes sparkled and shone in the morning sunlight. Tears of happiness streaked down her scaled cheeks.
"I'm your mother, little one. I'm Shahvee. Come to Mama…"
"Hey there," Sal whispered to the other hatchling stepping towards him. He reached up a careful hand to remove the eggshell balancing on its head, tossing it back into the nest. Warm tears sprang to his eyes. They streaked freely down his cheeks.
"I'm Sal-Gheel…" His voice broke amidst his budding cries of utter rejoicing. "Your Papa…"
They both took their hatchlings in their careful arms. The babes did not react in any hostile way to their touch. But they squeaked and croaked, leaning in close to their parents' warmth and loving embraces. Sal and Shahvee each held their respective child close to their chests, their bodies shaking from their uncontained joy on fullest display.
"Darling, their egg-tooths," Sal pointed to the hatchling's broken teeth. "They're cracked."
"It's all right, love!" Shahvee placed her hand on her shoulder, comforting. "That's a good omen! It means they worked hard to break out of their eggs!"
"Hooray!" Gunjar shot his fists high into the air. "The hatchlings have been born!"
Cheers erupted from the others around the island. Lydia and Rayya clasped each other's hands and jumped up and down, hyper with giddy laughter. Scouts-Many-Marshes, Neetrenaza, and Stands-in-Shallows knelt around Sal and Shahvee. Llewellyn and Gunjar hugged each other while whooping. Miraak stood by in silence, but did allow himself an agreeing nod of his head.
"Praise Lady Morwha!" Rayya clasped her hands and lifted her face to the heavens. "Blessed be the name of the Teat God!"
"Praise Mara and Dibella!" Lydia copied Rayya, closing her eyes in the blinding sunlight. "Praises to the Goddesses of Love and Beauty!"
"Praise the Hist!" Stands-in-Shallows extended his hands towards the Hist.
"All thanks in abundance to the Exact-Egg Cracker, Sithis!" Neetrenaza raised one hand at the Hist, the other around Sal's hatchling's shoulders.
"Ixtaxh-thtithil-meht!" Scouts-Many-Marshes chanted to the cloudless blue skies.
"Sal-Gheel!" Shahvee leaned into Sal. He put his arm around her, pressing their tear-streaked faces together. "It's a miracle! We're parents!"
"The Hist has blessed us, Shahvee!" Sal kissed his wife's forehead. Their tears mingled together as he pressed his face back onto hers. "We are truly its children!"
5th of Hearthfire
Naming Day
"Hummm…Hummm…Hummm…"
Scouts-Many-Marshes, Neetrenaza, and Stands-in-Shallows sat cross-legged in a short semicircle around the spectral Hist tree. Their hands in their laps, they hummed by alternating whole steps in low droning tones.
Shahvee stood beneath the trunk of the Hist, cradling one of her hatchlings in her arms. The hatchling turned its head to regard the tree. Its eyes were alight with curiosity mingled with honest confusion. Sal stood abreast of Shahvee, his hatchling also lying in his arms. Both hatchlings were cozily swaddled in thick wool blankets.
The voices of their egg-brothers drifted over the air, adorning the cloudless, dual-mooned evening with ritualistic sound. Shahvee began to circle the tree. Sal followed close behind her.
"Sitting beneath its swaying leaves.
Hearing its words within the breeze…
Speak, hear the Hist speak.
Hear the Hist speak its words to me."
Shahvee's euphonious voice sang over the intoning hums of her egg-brethren. She rocked her hatchling from side to side in rhythm with the humming. Sal did the same with his child.
"Below the roots forever spread.
Collecting souls of our dead…
Speak, hear the Hist speak.
Hear the Hist speak its words to me."
She pointed to a thin horizontal crack in the trunk of the Hist. From it, a peculiar orange liquid leaked forth, streaking downwards at a leisurely pace towards the tree roots.
"From its sap we gain our life.
By its judgement, we end strife...
Tribe and Hist, sky and sun.
All connected, all are one."
"Hummm…Hummm…Hummm…"
She stopped her pacing around the tree. Extending one hand, she coated a small portion of the Hist sap on her index claw and offered it to Sal-Gheel. Sal stretched out his tongue to lick Shahvee's claw, catching the sap on his taste buds.
"All connected, all are one," Sal repeated the line in a reverent voice as he swallowed the sap.
"Yes…" Shahvee replied in a modest whisper. "Can you hear the Hist speak its words to you, Sal-Gheel?"
"Yes…" Sal's eyes widened, wonderment painting itself across his face. "I can hear it, Shahvee Like…a still, small voice; calm and comforting."
"What does it say, dear?" Shahvee asked, intrigue and hope in her eyes.
Sal beamed a hopeful smile. "That I'm home." He stared at Shahvee, his eyes radiating doubtless certainty. "That I'm finally where I belong."
Shahvee matched his smile before leaning in towards him. They shared a quick kiss. Then Shahvee returned to circling the Hist.
"Hummm...Hummm...Hummm…"
"Sitting beneath its swaying leaves.
Hearing its words within the breeze…
Speak, hear the Hist speak.
Hear the Hist speak its words…to me."
She stopped in front of her egg-brothers, who lifted onto their knees and raised their arms high above their heads. They swayed back and forth in meditative unison. Their hums had been replaced by steady, articulate chanting in Jel.
Shahvee waited till her husband had joined her by her side. Then she lifted her hatchling to the Hist, and Sal followed.
"Hear the Hist speak its words to me."
Midway up the trunk of the tree, another thin horizontal crack had formed. A fresh streak of Hist sap began to drip from it, coursing its way down towards the ground below.
"Now, darlings," Shahvee spoke to the two hatchlings. "All you have to do is drink the sap. Just a little tiny sip of it. You can do it."
The hatchlings stretched out their tongues towards the strange drink emanating from the tree. Sal-Gheel's hatchling lapped it up first, then Shahvee's an instant later.
The hatchling in Sal-Gheel's arms opened its mouth first. It turned its head in small motions to gaze at its father.
"V-v…"
"Honey!" Sal called out to Shahvee. "Listen! It's about to speak!"
"V-ve...vee…"
"Go on, child!" Shahvee's bright eyes penetrated through the evening shadows. "Listen to the voice of the Hist! Tell us your name!"
"Vee…vee…t…mul…" The hatchling waved its hands and feet up and down and side to side in energetic motions. "Veetmul!"
"Huzzah!" "Hahahahah!" Llewellyn and Gunjar cheered and laughed, respectively.
"Awww!" "So cute!" Lydia and Rayya scrunched up their faces and crooned, putting their hands to their swooning hearts. Beside them, Miraak watched in wordless motionless silence.
"Hello, Veetmul," Sal leaned in to greet his new child. Already, he noticed the stubs of a familiar pair of bone horns growing on Veetmul's forehead. "I'm your papa. Can you say 'papa'?"
"Pa…" Veetmul babbled out. "…pa?"
Sal snorted and kissed his new son on the base of his horns. "We'll work on it."
"Ah…"
"Sal!" Shahvee held her hatchling out to him. "Sal-Gheel, look!"
"Ah…ah…lei…" The other hatchling started to wave its hands and legs around. "Ahahlei!"
"Oh, my dear, sweet, beloved Ahahlei," Shahvee's voice shook with light sobs of delight. "It's me, your Mama. Can you say 'Mama'?"
"Ma…ma?" Little Ahahlei tried to form the word, but to no avail.
Shahvee chuckled and kissed Ahahlei's cheeks. "That's close enough, I suppose. Good job, my darling."
At this, Lydia dropped her face in her hands and squealed. Rayya snickered and placed a comforting hand on Lydia's shoulder.
"It's so cute!" Lydia emerged from within her hands and took Rayya's in her own. The Redguard maiden chuckled and nodded her agreement.
"What blessed privilege that we should witness this sacred event, Llewellyn!" Gunjar commented to the bard. "And us non-Argonians, no less! We should not take this for granted!"
"I shan't ever forget this night for as long as I live, Gunjar!" Llewellyn nodded in reassurance. "You can bet your carriage on that!"
"Never have I imagined ever observing a happening such as this in my lifetime," Miraak spoke out for the first time since the start of the ceremony. "Seems I learn more about the Argonians with every passing moment I spend with them."
Finally, the three male Argonians dropped back onto their knees and placed their hands on their thighs. Sal and Shahvee turned around to face the front, holding their hatchlings.
"Behold!" Shahvee announced, and she and Sal-Gheel held out their children. "Our new hatchlings! Veetmul and Ahahlei Calidaseer!"
Scouts-Many-Marshes, Neetrenaza, and Stands-in-Shallows stood to their feet, their clothes soaked in water and Hist Sap. They gathered around Sal, Shahvee, and their hatchlings."That's Uncle Marshes," Sal told Veetmul, who wiggled a playful finger to tickle Veetmul's belly. "And Uncle Neet…" Neetrenaza folded his arms over his chest and allowed himself an affectionate smile.
"And this is Uncle Shallows," Shahvee held out Ahahlei to Stands-in-Shallows, who stroked her tuft of dainty purple scalp feathers.
"That's Lydia, and Rayya," Sal nodded towards each person in turn. "Gunjar, Llewellyn…and Miraak." Miraak gave a stiff silent nod in response.
"And all of us…" Shahvee reached out her spare hand, and Sal-Gheel took it in his own. "…are family."
Lakeview Manor
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Sal hammered the final nail into a horizontal wooden panel hanging above the doors of the manor.
"Phew! There! Finally finished!"
Wiping his brow with the back of his arm, he descended the ladder to the ground.
"What do you think, Shahvee?" he put an arm around his wife's waist. The other hand held Veetmul's hand while he idly sucked his other thumb.
"It's perfect, darling," Shahvee kissed her husband on the cheek. "Absolutely perfect."
Painted upon the face of the wooden panel was the name "Calidaseer Manor".
A sudden creaky, squeaky yawn from Ahahlei broke the meditative silence. Sal and Shahvee laughed, and Shahvee bent down to pick up her daughter.
"Yes, I know, little ones. You're ready for bed." She laid Ahahlei against her chest.
Still sucking his thumb, Veetmul held out his arms to his father. Sal too bent down to lift his son into his arms. Veetmul let out a yawn of his own and closed his eyes, laying his head on his father's shoulder. They followed Shahvee and Ahahlei into the house.
As they passed through the Entryway, Sal spied his Imperial Sword standing in the Weapon Rack beside the display case which held Dragonbane.
"Don't worry," he whispered to it. "You'll get to shine in battle again someday. Until then, thank you for helping me defeat Alduin."
"Incoming sleeping hatchlings," Rayya announced to Lydia in the Main Hall.
"Oh, yes, they're adorable!" Lydia pressed her hands to her heart at the sight of the hatchlings slumbering on their parents' shoulders.
"Goodnight, little ones," Scouts-Many-Marshes waved goodbye to the hatchlings on their way to their bedroom.
Neetrenaza likewise bade goodnight to Sal and Shahvee before ascending the stairs. Stands-in-Shallows opened his mouth to do the same, before being cut off by a wide yawn. He settled for a simple handwave. Gunjar also said a quick "Goodnight" to the parents before following the Argonians upstairs. Llewellyn sat at the far end of the dining table, polishing his lute. He gave the happy couple a warm smile as they passed by him.
Sal and Shahvee laid their children down on their beds. Veetmul on the left, and Ahahlei on the right. They pulled and tucked the blankets over them. Standing in the space between the beds, they put their arms around each other.
"Two hatchlings, Shahvee," Sal whispered, marveling. "We did it."
"We did, Sal-Gheel," Shahvee laid her head on her husband's shoulder, pressing a hand on his chest. "We're parents now. I still can't believe how far we've come. This past week has been so full of miracles, don't you agree?"
"Wholeheartedly, my love," Sal kissed Shahvee's scalp. "And it might be just the beginning. And it all starts…" he gestured toward the sleeping hatchlings. "Right here, with these two."
"Should we try for one more?" Shahvee lifted her head to flash Sal a teasing grin.
"Please, no." The color drained from Sal's face at the mere suggestion.
Shahvee snickered and kissed his lips. While she went to prepare their bed, Sal crossed through the glass passageway connecting the bedroom to the Armory.
Firstblade and Miraak's Staff hung in the weapon racks on the north wall's east side. A pair of Rayya's spare Alik'r Scimitars dangled beside them, as did an extra Akaviri Katana.
He noticed in the golden sconce light that one of the mannequins on the east wall wore his Dragonbone Armor. Another had donned a full head-to-toes set of his old Studded Imperial Armor. On a fourth, Lydia's Steel Armor. A fifth, the female variant of the panoply of the Blades. Directly in front him, a sixth had garbed itself in a familiar midnight-blue uniform.
"Miraak?"
The Dragon Priest stood on the floor in front of his mannequin. He turned over his shoulder at the call of his name. He regarded Sal without a word or gesture, before turning back to face his armored mannequin.
"Even after everything I have done," he voiced his thoughts. "You still grant me this place of honor?"
"You deserved as much, Miraak," Sal reassured the Priest, putting his hands in his pockets. "It's the least I can do after everything you did for me."
"But what does this mean?" Miraak raised a hand towards the mannequin wearing his robes and accessories. "This…luxury?"
"It means you can finally put your past behind you," Sal turned profile to face the Priest. "The Dragon Wars, Apocrypha, Hermaeus Mora, Alduin. You can finally all put them in your memory where they belong."
When Miraak stared at him with earnest confusion, he added, "You can finally step into the future with the rest of us. Whether you believe it or not, you're a part of our family."
Miraak lowered his gaze to the floor in a contemplative silence. At length, he spoke up. "All I am able to say is…thank you, Dragonborn."
Sal let a wide smile pull at his lips. "Welcome home, Miraak."
"Sal-Gheel?" Shahvee's voice drifted into the Armory from the hallway.
"Yes, I'm coming, love!" Sal called back. "Goodnight, Miraak," he turned back to the Priest.
Miraak lifted his gaze once more and nodded. "Enjoy your evening, Dragonborn. Should you need me, I will be in the Library." Without another word, he phased through the east wall and vanished.
Sal reunited with Shahvee in their bedroom. She put her hand around his elbow and led him back outside the house. Llewellyn stood on the lawn, bathed in the double moonlight.
"A dance before bed, honey?" Shahvee came in front of Sal, taking her hands in his own.
"I'd love to, Shav," Sal laced his fingers in his wife's to show his agreement. "What did you have in mind?"
"I know of a special song dating all the way back to the Second Era," Llewellyn hefted his newly-polished lute. "'Twould be perfect for a romantic dance for you two. May I?"
"Play away, Llewellyn," Sal placed one hand on Shahvee's waist, and she placed hers on his shoulder in response.
As Llewellyn plucked away the first few notes of the song, its delicate and rich sound filled the front lawn. Sal and Shahvee stepped and swayed from side to side in perfect rhythm on lightweight steps. Llewellyn inhaled and began to sing.
"O, my sweet love, she waits for me,
Through storm and shine, cross land or sea.
I run to her and together we,
Sway as we kiss,
Sway as we kiss."
Shahvee shut her eyes and laid her head on Sal's shoulder. As they continued to sway, he decorated her face and head with tender kisses.
"Her graceful shape I heave up high.
And in one hand I hold her nigh.
Her waiting lips are never dry.
Sway as we kiss,
Sway as we kiss."
Sal wrapped his arm his wife's waist, caressing her hip and stomach. Shahvee smiled and chuckled, quickly replaced by a sigh as he continued to kiss her.
"Come the morn, she goes.
The taste of her remains.
And in my mind, I see us sway.
Sway as we kiss,
Sway as we kiss."
Llewellyn's crisp, bright lute washed over the slow-dancing couple. Shahvee lifted her head from her husband's chest. She leaned in to press her wet lips to his. Husband and wife lost themselves and each other in a passionate kiss beneath Masser and Secunda.