Whitney Writes…

The fog rolled across the water, following the ship into the bay, and freezing in tiny hairs against the hull, rails, and ropes that were slung about the ships’ decks. The air was frigid and Ayrenn’s breath came out in little puffs of white clouds. She tugged the fur collar of her cloak closer around her neck. Already she missed the perfect weather of Auridon. It had been a particularly beautiful day when their ship had set sail from Skywatch; the warmth of the sun and the refreshing breeze had brought Ayrenn to tears, thinking of returning to this drab and grey climate.

Her friends and her cousins, especially Andralia, had all been distraught to see her leave. Her Golden Cloud had dissolved into tears on the docks when Ayrenn’s father had brought her down to see her off. Her father had gripped her tightly, his own tears wetting Ayrenn’s hair.

“You know you always will have a place here with me,” he had whispered to her, kissing his daughter’s cheek.

“You know Mother would hate it, Papa,” she had replied with a sad smile.

“All the better,” Lord Naemon Aldmeri had said, smiling broadly through his tears, holding Ayrenn at arms length. His gaze swept over her, and pride crackled across his chiseled features.

“I think Rayven would have something to say about it, as well, Papa,” Ayrenn added.

Her father pulled her into a hug once more, unsuccessfully hiding the roll of his eyes and crushing her even tighter. “I will never understand what it is you see in that boy,” he stated. Her father had never been particularly quiet on his dislike of his daughter’s choice in mate.

“Well, he is my husband, and we do have a child together,” Ayrenn said with a hint of laughter.

“You know what I mean,” Lord Naemon said. He kissed Ayrenn on the forehead once more. “I mean it, princess, just say the word and I’ll have your apartments refreshed and you can join me. Permanently.” He had finally released Ayrenn to collapse into her Golden Cloud of cousins and childhood friends, stepping back declaring: “Now, where is my granddaughter? I must give my littlest princess a proper goodbye!” and disappeared into the crowd of servants and dock workers to find the nanny in his daughter’s employee.

The bell of the harbor of Solitude pulled Ayrenn back from her daydream. She looked up to the arched cliff that Skyrim’s capital city was built upon. She hated to admit it, but it was an impressive sight. Nords – at least some – did have some taste, after all, it seemed.

She noticed the red wolf banners that usually hung from posts throughout the docks had been replaced with black flags. The docks seemed… quieter… somehow. As Ayrenn watched, a man boarded their ship and she overheard the man questioning the captain as to their business in the city.

“How dare you,” Ayrenn bristled, bustling over in a swirl of fur, wool, and silk, “I am the daughter of Ambassador Elenwen, and you dare to question my activities?”

The dock worker quickly masked the expression that was about to wash over his face, distaste, most like, being a Nord, and gave her a curt bow in response. “Begging your pardon, my lady, but the port has been closed to outsiders, due to the recent murder.”

“Recent murder?” Ayrenn scoffed, “Since when did Solitude come to it’s knees because of a murder?”

The man shifted uncomfortably. “Since that murder was of the High King, miss,” he said. When Ayrenn had no reply, just stared agape at the man, he added: “Begging your pardon, again, my lady, but you must have been on the water for sometime and been unable to receive messages – “

“Yes, as a matter of fact I have,” Ayrenn interrupted, “we’ve sailed all the way from Skywatch. You know, of the Summerset Isles?”

“I know where Skywatch is, my lady,” the dock worker said tiredly. “I just meant you must not have been able to hear news of High King Torygg’s murder while out at sea and be able to redirect your ship. It was just on a month ago. If you just have your documentation-“

“My… my documentation?!” Ayrenn exclaimed, her hand rising to her chest in shock. “I am Lady Ayrenn Aldmeri, daughter of the Lady Ambassador Elenwen Aldmeri, I do not travel with documentation!” Her voice grew louder and indignant. “Do you have any idea the sheer joy a pirate, or brigand, would have after pulling my documentation off my corpse?!” She looked to her ship’s captain, “Can you believe this buffoon?!”

The captain stayed quiet and Ayrenn missed the look on his face that clearly indicated he would rather jump overboard into the icy waters than to agree with her in any capacity.

There was a commotion on the docks below, shouting and jostling that caught Ayrenn’s attention. She bounced to the rails of the ship in excitement, pointing down to the crowd. “There! That’s my mother’s footman, come to collect me, I am certain!!” Ayrenn cried. “He will vouch for me and be my paperwork.”

The dock worker began to protest that that was not how these things worked, when from a subtle head shake from the ship’s captain, the man inclined his head and with a sigh, replied: “Very well, my lady, I shall go and speak with him. Providing he confirms you are whom you claim to be, you and your party shall be allowed to disembark.”

“Oh, I’ll be allowed, shall I?” Ayrenn retorted to the man’s back. “Can you believe his audacity?” she demanded of no one in particular, not noticing that everyone had melted away hoping to avoid being the last person with her.

Her mother’s carriage trundled down the road away from Solitude and towards a branch of road that led off up into the mountains even further. The Thalmor Embassy was nestled up in the mountains, overlooking the capital city. Just how her mother liked it. Abd everything was always just as the Lady Elenwen liked it.

As the carriage bumped to a halt in the courtyard of the Embassy, Ayrenn looked up to see her elegant mother stepping out of the grand entry to greet her. The older Altmeri woman wore a gown of such deep blue silk that it nearly appeared black with golden embroidery accents. Her skirts were full and long, as were the tapered sleeves, enchanted to float just above the snow-covered ground behind her. Fashion was one of the Altmeri’s greatest prides. They were elegant, over the top, and just enough past ‘absurd’ with enchantments. Also highly impractical to the frigid, hostile climate of Skyrim.

But Lady Elenwen Aldmeri stood tall and straight, not a hint of discomfort from the frigid temperatures. Her sharp and beautiful features and golden hair radiant in the dim northern lighting of deep winter.

The carriage door was opened by her mother’s footman, and Ayrenn climbed out.

“Greetings, Mama,” Ayrenn said, with a demure curtsey to her mother.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming back,” Elenwen said drolly.

Ayrenn gave a nervous little laugh. “Don’t be silly, Mama,” she said, “you know how much I ache to be by your side, to learn from by your esteemed hand.”

Elenwen’s left brow arched suspiciously as she gazed upon her daughter. “You picked an inauspicious time to be absent, daughter.”

“Oh?” Ayrenn inquired, turning to take her daughter from her nanny.

“Don’t do that,” Elenwen said, promptly taking the toddler from Ayrenn’s arms and depositing her back with her nanny. Though not before bestowing a rare, if fleeting, smile upon her granddaughter. “It diminishes you,” Elenwen said. “Women of stature do not tend their own children.”

Ayrenn frowned at her mother. While that had certainly been true for Lady Elenwen Aldmeri, Ayrenn was not certain she wished it to be true for her. “Why was it inauspicious that I was away, Mama,” Ayrenn prompted, watching the nanny depart into the small, but lavish, estate, having decided her mother had forgotten.

Her mother looked at her sharply. “That inept, excuse of a man you call ‘husband’ was here. You apparently neglected to tell him that you were leaving the country.”

“Ohh, Rayven was here?” Ayrenn asked excitedly. “Is he still, Mama?”

“And that you were taking his daughter,” her mother cut him off. “And no, you missed him by a fortnight. Thank the gods he didn’t stay.”

“I’m sorry to have missed him,” Ayrenn said wistfully. Her husband’s schedule meant they had little time together and she hated that she had missed it.

“I don’t know what you see in him,” her mother said, finally turning and heading back into the Embassy.

“Yes, you and Papa are never shy about saying so,” Ayrenn sighed under her breath as she followed her mother across the courtyard and into the Embassy.

Her mother was poised elegantly at the base of the steps when Ayrenn walked in, she hadn’t thought she had been that slow. “You disappoint me, Ayrenn,” Elenwen said and Ayrenn’s heart sunk. “I’ve told you a thousand times: if you’re going to insult me, do so in a manner in which I can hear it. Hear that you have a spine.” Her mother turned and started up the gilded stairs to her office on the upper floor. Adding over her shoulder: “He does not provide for you. His daughter does not know him. He is never here, Ayrenn, and yet you somehow saw fit to marry him.”

Ayrenn sighed quietly. While it stung to hear from her mother, this was all nothing she had not heard before.

“Oh,” her mother paused at the splitting of the staircase, before taking the flight to her right that lead to her office and study, “one more thing.” She turned to look back down over her shoulder at her daughter. And like so many random moments in Ayrenn’s life, she was struck with just how stunning of a creature her mother was. “The High King is dead, the queen is alone in that big palace. I expect you to put in more time there. The time is right for the High Queen to have a Thalmor connection.”

Ayrenn’s welcome-home had not been what she had hoped. She had hoped her mother would be happy to see her and Andraste. That Ayrenn had had the opportunity to tell her mother all about her trip home to see her father. But, instead, her mother had a business dinner with some envoys she was sending to Markarth the following week and she couldn’t be bothered. Couldn’t have possibly moved the dinner to any other night.

So, Ayrenn had left her little daughter with her nanny and taken the carriage back down to Solitude. She would spend the evening with her two second-cousins, Endarie and Taarie. It was never lost on Ayrenn, the irony that she would go to Solitude to, in fact, find company.

From this vantage point, the carriage pulling up to the city, Ayrenn could see just how empty the docks were, and also how crowded the bay was with ships being denied entry. Perhaps her mother had been correct in saying she was lucky to have gotten home.

She stepped through the city gates and made her way through the small plaza towards where the city bent off to the east, where her cousins’ shop sat at the crossroads. Radiant Raiment was quiet as it ever was when Ayrenn came for a visit. The shop was technically open in the evenings, but Endarie’s hostility towards evening customers quickly got the word spread that it was merely a formality.

The interior of the shop was filled with a warm light, much that did not match the atmosphere. Endarie slid out from the backroom behind the counter, a scowl creasing her stern face. The Altmer woman’s golden eyes softened when she took in the sight of Ayrenn.

“Oh, cousin!” she breathed, “It’s you!” The smile that spread across Endarie’s face looked out of place. “I thought you were some pesky customer coming to see our wares, as if we get new things so frequently.”

Ayrenn let out a giggle, holding up a basket from which she produced a glimmering golden bottle with crystal stopper. “Just me, but I brought some Skywatch wine back from my travels,” she said tantalizingly, swishing the glittering bottle in the air.

Taarie’s head popped out from around the corner to the back. “I’ll put together a charcuterie platter!” she said dryly before disappearing once more.

The three cousins sat together in Taarie and Endarie’s lounge in their apartment above the shop, each reclined on a gilded chaise with beautiful velvet brocade fabric in a turquoise that Ayrenn swore was reminiscent of the harbor bay in Skywatch. On a low, gilded table between them, sat the bottle of wine, golden goblets encrusted in jewels, and golden platter heaped with fine cheeses, meats, and delicate crackers. The small, but lavish flat, was filled with their laughter and the sound of harp music echoing against the marble floors.

Ayrenn was feeling warm, and fuzzy around the edges, the wine having done her good. When they had finished her bottle, Endarie had broken out some other bottles from Cyrodiil.

“Tell me,” Taarie suddenly said, “where is that precious little poppet of yours?”

“Oh,” Ayrenn smiled thinking of her little daughter, “she’s home with Nanny,” she said, only slightly slurring her words.

“You mean her nanny?” Endarie inquired, a brow hitching upwards.

Ayrenn shook her head. “No, Nanny,” she said, as though that cleared up everything.

Taarie and Endarie exchanged glances. “So, you rehired your childhood nanny when you had your own child?” Endarie asked again.

“How sweet,” Taarie interjected, unsuccessfully attempting to camouflage her sister’s judgmental tone.

“Re… hired?” Ayrenn said slowly, her brain seeming to take ages to catch up to her cousins whom did not seem nearly as affected by all the wine as she did.

Endarie let out a bark of laughter. “Don’t tell me Auntie Elenwen has kept your childhood nanny employed all these years?”

“Endarie,” Taarie said scoldingly, “we both know how cold Auntie can be, so of course she kept Ayrenn’s nanny all this time. You know Auntie can’t afford to take her focus off her hold on power. Ayrenn needs someone nurturing in her life.”

“One would have thought that’s what her husband was for,” Endarie said under her breath, “when he can be bothered to even be around, that is…”

“Anyway,” Taarie said loudly, hoping to have concealed her sister’s snarky comment from their cousin, “you’re lucky you were gone, Ayrenn, the city was in absolute shambles after the king’s death.”

“His murder,” Endarie corrected.

“The city was completely shut down for days, no one in or out,” Taarie continued, scowling at Endarie.

“And yet, the Bear of Windhelm still managed to slip out the front gates,” Endarie sighed.

“It wasn’t the front gates,” Taarie said tersely, “they don’t know how he got out -“

“Oh, even better,” Endarie declared, rolling her eyes.

“- but it was like we were being held hostage!” Taarie exclaimed. “Us!” as though the thought were unimaginable. “Can you even imagine?” she continued. “Such a thing would never happen back home. The city watch would have captured the fiend in an instant! He wouldn’t have even made it out of the Throne Room!”

“It happened in the Throne Room?” Ayrenn asked.

“Oh yes,” Taarie said, “in front of all of the king and queen’s courtiers and advisors.”

“And… he just…. escaped?” Ayrenn asked, clutching at her diamond necklace as fear rose like bile in her throat.

“Well, it took some time for everyone to recover from the shock,” Taarie said with a shrug. “I don’t think they were originally sure he was dead.”

“Was it… terribly bloody?” Ayrenn asked, her voice quaking with her fear.

“No,” Taarie said, shaking her head, her golden earrings jingling, “it was a spell that killed the king, there was no weapon.”

Ayrenn stared, wide-eyed in horror.

“You certainly know an awful lot about this for someone who’s never been to the palace,” Endarie said finally, having been quiet for some time.

“Oh!” Taarie giggled, “It’s that handmaid of the queen, Una, she talks so much!” She waved her hand. “I could scarcely get a word in when she came to collect the queen’s mourning gown, as it had to be altered. At first I was a bit put out, because she wasn’t asking about any of my latest designs, but then, once I realized what she was prattling on about… well, I certainly wasn’t going to discourage her from talking!” She smiled knowingly at her sister and cousin. “Gossip is valuable in my line of work, you know!”

“My mother is back on her ‘I need to befriend the queen’ agenda,” Ayrenn sighed abruptly.

Taarie gave a small harumph of a sigh, as she settled back into no longer being in the spotlight of their discussion.

Endarie rolled her eyes. “Auntie thinks it’s less suspicious to vie for an advisory position to the queen for the Thalmor by throwing her daughter in the mix?” She sighed dramatically, taking another sip of wine following a bite of cheese. “She might as well show up herself with lick the queen’s slippers.”

The last sentence of Endarie’s statement was dripping with scorn for her aunt. It was no secret that she disapproved of her aunt’s… heavy handed… approach to meddling.

“I don’t think Mama means for me to be an advisor to the queen,” Ayrenn said hesitantly, suddenly self-conscious. “I mean, what would I have to off her? I do not know the arts of diplomacy, nor politics, nor…”

“Exactly why you’re the perfect Altmer to put near the queen,” Endarie said. “Your ignorance of the Thalmor agenda will be what endears her to the plight of the High Elves. You will… humanize… us to the queen. She will begin to make subconscious choices that will rule in our favor, perhaps even over her own people, because she will want to benefit you, her dear friend.” She tilted her head in acquiescence. “Auntie may be heavy-handed, but she does know how to play the game…”

When Ayrenn returned the the Embassy many hours later, the windows were dark. The carriage driver was half-asleep and irritable as to having been kept out so late. But Ayrenn found she didn’t care, as she felt blissfully numb. Upon entering the manor, all was quiet. She was slightly perturbed that no servant had stayed up to await her return. Surely they had not forgotten she had gone out?

Before retiring to her own apartments, Ayrenn went to the topmost floor of the manor to peer in on the form of her sleeping little daughter. Andraste’s skin was dark, ashen-tinted-gold, blending the heritage of her mother and father. But her hair was the straight glowing-sunlight gold of the Altmer. The child was perfection, the greatest achievement of Ayrenn’s life thus far. And, if she was being honest, probably of the entirety of her life. Nothing else she did in this world would ever compare to the beauty and perfection of her little girl.

She eased herself into a rocking chair, her head swimming from all the wine. Her mother would hate this type of sentimentality, but Ayrenn loved to slip into the nursery and just observe Andraste. She did it most often when the girl was sleeping, because though Ayrenn wanted desperately to interact with her child, she always found that, in the moment, she had no idea what to do and would panic.

But watching Andraste sleep, that Ayrenn could do.

She dreamt of her husband, Rayven Indoril. The way he held her, murmured in her golden hair that she was the most beautiful, the most adored, the shining star of the Summerset Isles. All of which were things that Ayrenn believed when Rayven was near. But, she found she began to doubt them when he was away, when she was left alone with her mother.

In her dream, Rayven had returned to her side, vowing he would never leave her alone in Solitude again. Her heart fluttered; it was all she had ever wanted from him, and everything she could never ask of him. His nomadic work and way of life had always been a thing most important to him, living the values his mysterious mother had instilled in him at a young age.

Ayrenn awoke feeling groggy, disoriented, light-headed, and a bit like vomiting. The wine had certainly taken its toll. As her wits slowly came back to her, Ayrenn realized she was facing an empty crib. Someone had fetched Andraste away. She twisted her lips into a grimace, uncertain if she felt ashamed or hurt that she had been completely unaware.

As she began to rise from the chair, the room swam before her and Ayrenn sat abruptly back down, leaning forward to place her head between her knees. She groaned as she sat, buckled over, rubbing her temples in hopes of easing the pain that lodged itself there.

Voices were wafting up the staircase. Someone was having a discussion in the foyer far too loudly. This time much, much more slowly. The nursery still swam, but Ayrenn gripped the back of the chair until her knuckles turned white, her eyes squeezed shut, until slowly, the feeling faded.

She trailed slowly down the corridor; her fingertips trailing along the wainscotting trim, steadying herself as she went. Her other hand massaged her brow from the onslaught of bright light. It seemed very unlike her mother to have guests so early. Perhaps whomever had been over the embassy the previous evening had not left. Now that would be a scandal Ayrenn could bring to her cousins!

At the top of the steps, just before Ayrenn came into view of the foyer below, a voice wafted up the steps that made Ayrenn pause. She knew it in an instant, the way it made her skin vibrate and the hair on her arms and neck stand on end. Forgetting her pounding head and nausea, Ayrenn picked up the hem of her gown and rushed down the steps.

As she rounded the corner on the landing, her mother and husband came into view. Ayrenn could tell by their close proximity and rigid statures that they had been arguing.

” – you were just here – ” her mother had hissed.

” – didn’t get to see my wife – ” her husband had replied.

But Ayrenn did not care. “Rayven!” she cried, skipping the bottom step and sprinting across the short distance between them and launching herself into his arms.

Rayven Indoril had less than a moment to prepare himself for his wife’s arrival as the small, for an Altmer, woman flew towards him. He had enveloped in his arms, twirling her once and catching the floral scent of her hair, as well as the faint scent of wine. As he set Ayrenn down between himself and Elenwen, he cast a firm glare at his mother-in-law over his wife’s shoulder.

“How are you, my pet?” he asked, turning his full attention to the stunning creature before him as Lady Elenwen huffed and glided away from the pair. Where she went, Rayven found he did not care, as long as she were not here.

“Missing you terribly!” Ayrenn was saying. “What good fortune, I only arrived back home myself yesterday! Auri-El must have blessed our ship.” Rayven grimaced at the name of the Altmeri god, but managed to camouflage it as an indulgent smile to his wife.

“I may have still been in the area,” Rayven said with a shrug. “And when I saw the one, lone ship get through the blockade, I knew it had to be you.”

Ayrenn took his hand. “Come,” she said, “you must be dying to see Andraste!” She gave his hand a gentle tug towards the stairs.

Rayven released his wife’s hand, sliding it around her waist and falling into step beside her up the marble stairs. “While there is nothing more that I would love, than to see our girl,” he kissed Ayrenn’s temple, “I would much rather some alone time with my wife first. And perhaps a bath.”

Ayrenn grinned up at him. He always said the right things. Her eyes twinkled in the late-morning light as she stared up at him as though he were the only being in all the universe. “You do smell a bit of horse,” she teased.

“Check in the small velvet pouch in the top of my rucksack,” Rayven called. “I think you’ll love it!”

Ayrenn giddily made her way across her bedchamber to where the servants had hefted her husband’s things. Her fur-lined robe slipping from her still-wet shoulder. One of her favorite parts of her husband’s returns, other than the obvious, were the gifts he tended to bring her.

She tugged on the laces and opened the leather bag. At the top, just as Rayven has said, was an amethyst-colored velvet pouch with ‘AI’ – for Ayrenn Indoril – embroidered in silver thread on it. Ayrenn was about to turn back to her husband, still lounging in the copper tub, squealing with delight, when something in the bag caught her eye.

Ayrenn turned back toward it and reached into the depths of the bag. “Why… you little sneak-” died in her throat as she held the second amethyst bag up. On it, was embroidered ‘VI’.

Her heart sunk. It felt like the floor were falling out from beneath Ayrenn’s feet. She turned to look at her husband. “What is the meaning of this?” she said softly, tears began welling in her eyes.

“Just a little something that made me think of you,” Rayven said. His eyes were still closed as he leaned back in the tub, so he was unaware of what his wife had found.

“That’s very thoughtful,” Ayrenn forced herself to say. She slid out a lovely silver pendant with sapphires and diamonds from the pouch with her initials on it. It took her breath away. And then she opened the second pouch. Out slid an identical pendant. Her skin felt cold. “I’m just wondering who’s initials are ‘VI’,” she said, hating the heartbreak that emanated from her voice.