Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim or any of its components, characters, etc. All of that belongs to Bethesda.
A humming, the noise started out as an afterthought, something that was there but insignificant. Still, it became a focal point, and she put what feeble thought she could manage into honing it. For a seemingly long time, she drifted along knowing only its warble, which had synchronized into a comforting melody. She sailed on a sea of black, floating in a cocoon of nothing except the persistent song that soothed her. At one point, a phantom brushed her leg, and she realized that she had one, flexing toes that felt surprisingly new. Her other limbs were there as well, but they were leaden, like swimming in molasses. It was wrong, she knew; panic rose in her throat, but the hum beckoned to her, calling for peace.
Onward, her journey through the inky emptiness continued, until a familiar scent reached her nose. Lavender, she realized, the word popping into her thoughts like an unannounced guest. The aroma teased her synapses, and rapid-fire memories of people and places that should be known to her peppered her thoughts. One in particular plagued her—a bed with scented sheets wrapped around the waist of a man with golden hair and a smile that pulled upon her very heart.
Her fantasy's bearded lips moved, but instead of words meeting her ears, the chirping of songbirds escaped him. She almost laughed, the dichotomy of this burly specimen singing like a lark too much for her, until the being abandoned the bed, moving toward her. Naked and exposed, his lithe and splendid body was truly a sight to behold as he crept seductively into her personal space. He grabbed her hand, turning it over, spinning it at her wrist, his nails gently grazing along the flesh. She watched, intrigued by the peculiar yet deliberate actions, while he sprinkled seeds of lavender into her hand. His intensity both frightened and enticed her; the pupils of his eyes narrowed and fixated on the miniscule, black seeds. Then, he wrapped her fingers closed, forming a fist that he covered with his own digits.
A breathtaking smile lit up his features, and she returned it with her own grin as a tickle against her palm made her flinch. Unbelievably, tiny sprouts of green slithered out from between their fingers, and he let go of her hand, waiting for something. Imploring irises met hers, conveying desperate need, but she did not understand the request. She opened her hand, exposing the seedling that sat upon her palm. She wanted to ask how and why, but before she could, he grabbed her arms, pulling her in for a bruising kiss that made her clutch their precious creation close to her chest. Her tongue clashed with his, the taste of mead and salt upon him, and she moaned loudly into his mouth. This man, even if she didn't know him yet, was hers.
As soon as she claimed him, her lover started to slip into oblivion. She grabbed desperately, but he passed through her fingers, dissolving into a mocking mist. He was gone, and she screamed in equal parts anger and fear. Blobs of green and brown that she couldn't process replaced him, and she lashed out, fists swinging, only to be restrained by cooing and words of peace. Blinking, her eyes found a room formed by earthen walls with huge windows and curtains that flapped from a breeze. Her arms were wrapped in bandages, the dull throb of healing wounds strumming below them. An old Mer shushed her, her chilly fingers pushing down a shoulder while caressing her forehead. "You must quiet, child. You're still far too ill."
Weak and listless, she crumpled backwards against a mattress, the linens dampened with sweat. Her eyes darted about, absorbing the details, when she heard the soothing, mesmerizing hum that she knew so well. Her caretaker was producing it as she gently unwrapped and treated her injuries.
She opened her mouth, expecting her voice to follow, but she croaked like a frog instead. The nurse laughed, an endearing chuckle. "Impatient, are we? Seemingly simple things can return very slowly."
She dipped a sponge in water, dribbling it onto her lips and tongue. "Sips, nothing more."
Crisp, the liquid cooled her throat, and she did her best to slow her swallows. This time, the whisper was hoarse, but there. "Ulfric."
Her caretaker nodded, reassuring, "Easy, dear. I still can't understand what you are trying to say. Senderi!"
A younger elf appeared, head hung in deference. "At your call, Eldess."
"Go to Eralos at once and tell him that I said to make haste to the hospice. He will know why."
ᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃ
"How long were you out?"
"Fifteen days. I was told that for the first seven, I had constant care from the Eldess herself. Eralos begged her to keep me alive, and she was worried that if she left me, even for a moment, that I would pass."
"You're incredibly lucky that such a skilled healer was nearby."
"My life has been nothing but a sequence of incredibly lucky events."
They laughed, and she continued, "I can find humor now because it's years behind me. At the time, it scared the sense out of me."
Deftly, she removed the glove on her right hand, rolling the sleeve of her gown up to her elbow, and she heard the gasp escape the scholar. Even after all this time, the flesh was still discolored and scarred. "I still bear the marks from that day, both on my body and within my soul. But, I recovered. Bent but not broken. Damaged but repairable. Alive...and ready to walk away from the blades that brought me there."
"Was it worth it?" Lokir whispered, half in reverence, the other in disbelief.
"Ask me ten thousand times, but the answer will still be yes. One for every Bosmer child that will grow up knowing a Valenwood liberated of the Thalmor."
The scholar smiled, nodding. "When did you return to Skyrim?"
"As soon as I was well enough to ride a horse. Little did I know, at the time, that I would not be traveling alone…"
ᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃᛃ
Lavender plants waved "good day" in the morning breeze as she watched the wildlife awaken and greet the dawn from her perch in the window. Nearly two weeks after coming to, she sat silently inventorying her progress in the quiet moment. Walking was finally becoming second nature again, and it no longer pained her to bend any of the joints in her arms. The skin there was still raw and delicate, but it was somewhat pliable, and her movements were definitely more precise. She was far from battle-ready, but that mattered not. She just needed to be fit for travel, and she could work on the rest later.
Quiet footsteps padded along behind her, and she knew from the weight that it had to be Eralos, as she had only two visitors. Thanks be to Talos that her ears had been unaffected. "Up and out of bed already? Does the Eldess know?"
"Probably not, but I'm sure she'll be along in a few minutes to fuss over me and complain."
"She takes her job very seriously, and she doesn't wish to see you harm yourself after all the effort she's put in to see you well."
She gave him a sideways glance, "Too long stagnant, and even the most healthy fall ill. I am walking and sitting, not running sprints or swinging a sword. I hardly think I'm pushing myself too hard."
"Of course you don't," he smirked.
She rolled her eyes, but was in no mood to disagree with him. She had learned long ago to pick her battles. His shoulders slumped, and she recognized the contrite pose for what it was. "I'm sorry that my visits have been short and few…"
She cut him off, "There is no need for apologies, Eralos. Your attention should be on Valenwood."
"And it has been. But, now that things are starting to settle, I have time to get some of my questions answered."
She nodded in agreement, as she had known that this inquisition was coming, and she would give him what she could. "Speak your mind."
"Is it true?"
She didn't even need to confirm the subject, "Skyrim has no queen."
"Don't parse words with me, Feren. I care not about titles of the Nord court. Are you the wife of Ulfric Stormcloak?"
That, she could not and would not deny. "Yes."
The curse he spit had enough vitriol to make her flinch, and she waited for his retort. "I am a fool. I believed Iauron's words to be the rambling lies of a desperate madman…"
"I know not how he found out, as only a handful of people knew of our union, and they were all trusted."
His cold laughter made the hair on her nape stand on end, "Trusted? Clearly, someone in that group was not."
"Agreed, and I plan to find out who."
Silence simmered as he said nothing further, and so she decided to ask a question. "Have you heard anymore about the caravan?"
He nodded, "They found what remained of it where the mage said it would be. Nothing but charred wood with no way to identify who the wagons belonged to."
"No bodies then?"
"No, and I didn't expect there would be. Far too much time has passed."
"Have you heard anything else?"
"Rumors, Feren. Some alive and some dead. Nothing definitive."
She sighed, running her fingers through her hair as she tried to quell the growing frustration she felt. She was still too weak to do her own investigating, and too aware to be idle while her husband's fate was unknown. "Can you have the scouts mark the location on a map? I would like to see it for myself."
"When the time comes that you are fit for travel, I will do so."
The challenge in his voice was clear, and she did not appreciate it. "That time is coming sooner than you wish."
Frustrated, he lashed out, "If you think that I'll just watch as you throw yourself into harm's way, after bringing you back from the brink..."
"My decision has been made, Eralos."
A long, punctuated sigh filled the air. "You are so stubborn, but at least now I can fathom why."
Her recovery had been painful, and she had restrained herself while weak and in no position to anger her host as she convalesced. But now that she was on the mend, it loosened her tongue. "No more stubborn than you."
The growl made it clear that he was unhappy. She continued, "I am sorry that my choice disappoints you, but I must go home."
"Your home and your heritage is here—in the country and people you set free."
She smiled, the pride she felt fueling the conviction in her words. "'Tis true. But then, it's equally true that I set my country and my people free years ago in Solitude. I am just as much Nord as I am Mer."
"Yet you hid who you were. If you're so proud of your identity, then why lie to us?"
"I admit that I was not the most forthcoming, but I never lied, Eralos. And you know that."
Wood shattered, and she looked over her shoulder at the table and the Mer who both stood broken. His balled fists trembled as he spoke, "I begged you to be my promised. Vows that I would swear to you, I would never utter to another. I bared my soul and I gave you my heart, Feren. I deserved that in return."
"I could not return what I did not have, Eralos. I warned you that I loved another."
Bitter, his jaded laughter filled the room, "Yes, but you conveniently left out who your husband was."
"Does that matter? Knowing his identity would not have made you anymore him."
His arm moved out of the corner of her eye, and she decided to take the backhand, if he dealt it. She watched her dear friend struggle, the fire of rage burning in his eyes as his body shook with tremors of grief. He slumped with his limbs hanging dejectedly, "Maybe not. But, if I couldn't earn your love, then you owed me the truth."
Her eyes found his, and she never looked away. "The truth?" Her voice raising slightly, "I spoke it when I told you that I was an orphan who longed to see her native land ruled by its own people. Tell me, Eralos, if I had come here as the Queen of Skyrim, would you have taken my aid? Would have looked past the crown on my head to see my pointed ears? You never would have accepted an outsider's help, no matter the fact that Bosmer blood runs through me."
"Don't lecture me on perceived shortcomings. You never gave me a chance to deny you."
"Rejection was not my only concern. I could not risk bringing Skyrim into another war. It was my personal vendetta against the Thalmor that needed to be sated, and I could not handle the guilt of having my entire country in turmoil because of my own greedy obsessions. The choices I made had consequences more far-reaching than love, or vengeance, or truth, but that makes me no less sorry for the pain that I caused in the process. My goal was to put an end to the Thalmor's reign over Valenwood, whatever the cost, and we accomplished just that."
"You're right," his face twisting in sadness, "Together, we have done great things, and we could have done so much more. I will be lost without you." His words were desperate, said without thought and totally genuine.
She shook her head, "No, you have an entire country to guide and mold, and I have no doubt that it will prosper under your leadership. You can and will thrive. You did so before I came into your life, and you will do so when I am gone from it."
"I can't stop you from leaving Valenwood, but you will never be gone from my thoughts or my heart."
Eyebrow raised, she must have given him a look that spoke volumes. He smiled, and she was reminded just how beautiful he was. "Go home, Feren. Return to Skyrim and your Nord husband, if he still breathes. But, one day you will wear the widow's veil, and that may happen sooner than you care to admit."
"You are unbelieveable!" she spit, all thoughts of her precarious situation tossed aside by shock.
He straightened, shoulders going back, seemingly defiant, "I am. And so are you, Feren."
Agitated, she could not stand to hear any more of this undeserved devotion, and she was sick of her feelings being dismissed by him. Eralos deserved a life of happiness and a swift kick in the ass, but she could only deliver one of them. If she had to play the bitch to break him, she would do it, and hopefully, one day, when he was promised to another, he could forgive her. "Hear me, Eralos. There will never be an us, no matter the fate of Ulfric. Tomorrow, a decade, fifty years—I will never be yours."
He stormed from the room without another word, but she didn't need any to know that she had hit her intended mark. Luckily, the Eldess appeared to distract her, pausing in the doorway, "Should I return later?"
Wiping away tears that threatened to fall, she shook her head. "No, Eldess. Our conversation was over."
The matron nodded, entering her room and setting a tray down with various herbs and poultices. "How are you feeling today?"
"Restless, irritable...trying to remind myself that just because a Mer has big, pointy ears it doesn't mean that he'll use them to listen."
Smirking, the older Mer chided her gently, "Eralos is only concerned for you, and he is very passionate soul. After all, you are newly healed and in a delicate state. It was difficult to see you and your injuries in the early stages of your recovery, even for me, and I knew you not."
She nodded, "I am not ungrateful, but he can be so smug and dismissive when he wants to be."
"I'm not excusing him, but you should try to see things from his perspective. He probably thought that he would lose you a dozen times over in those first few days. It's hard enough to see a loved one at death's door, but it's made all the more difficult when there's a child involved."
"What child?"
"The one that you carry, Feren."
It took her what seemed like years to get her jaw to respond, and still the words were hollow. "You are mistaken."
Laughing, the old woman looked amused, "No, I am not. A spell confirmed my intuition, but I've been doing this for centuries. I could sense the babe's pull and heartbeat as I healed you. You're not far along, maybe seven weeks, give or take."
Pregnant. The word beat against her skull like a drum, and she felt like the world was going to cave in around her. "You are certain?"
"As certain as the rise of Secunda."
"Why have you not told me sooner?"
"I thought it best to wait until you had regained your strength. Neither of you were going to die on my watch, and I needed you to rest. If I had told you earlier, the excitement and anxiety would have been dangerous to both you and the child."
A child, Ulfric's child, and now, the tears rolled down her cheeks like a river as she reconciled that fact in her mind. She had not needed the additional motivation to search for her beloved; she had to find him, and he had to be alive.
"Happy tears," the Eldess smiled, "Eralos is a good man and a leader of our people. He will provide for you both."
Clamping down, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing like a loon. The elder had assumed the paternity of her baby, and it wasn't that crazy of a leap, but it still made her hysterical. Time to play coy, "He knows?"
"Most definitely. As soon as I began healing you that day, it was evident that you were pregnant. I let him know as soon as discretion would allow."
The bastard had kept it from her! Maybe he had deemed it the Eldess' responsibility to inform her, but she still wanted to punch him in the face for being so callous. She smiled, a grin that would fool almost anyone in Thedas, as her nurse changed her bandages.
"Give him time to settle, and he, like most males, will come around," the Eldess rested her hand comfortingly on her shoulder. "Now, I know these bandages drive you mad, but the good news is that you won't need them much longer. They can probably come off permanently within the next few days."
She nodded, pleased with her progress. "If all else is well, I must go tend to the other patients."
She grabbed the Eldess' hand, "I've said it many times, but thank you for all that you have done for me."
The elder nodded, "There is no need to thank me for doing my duty, child. But, you're welcome. I'll see you on the morrow."
"Tomorrow," she smiled until her cheeks ached.
Within the hour, she stole a horse and set out for Skyrim.