Edwyn stared at Geor and grunted in satisfaction.
“Yes, this will do nicely. I can’t imagine how she could possibly know the difference.”
They’d dressed Geor Mandel in Edwyn’s purple Colovian outfit. In spite of needing to stifle the almost visceral urge to tear it from him and wash it – an urge which was absurd in light of the amount of time they’d spent cleaning Geor before putting him in it – he had to admit that the results of Vyctyna’s efforts and the face changer’s were spectacular. Geor looked exactly like him now, and his mind was as pliable as maker’s clay.
“Do you think you are ready, Geor? Can you do what we need you to do?”
Geor stared at him and said, in tones that were identical to his own, “If my mistress commands it, thus I will do.”
Edwyn laughed. “My, my. Yes, you even sound like me, condescension and all. Well done.” He raised his voice and called out. “Vyctyna, my dear. Could you come here for a moment?”
He heard her light footsteps pattering up the stairs, and turned to smile as she popped into the room.
“What can I do for you, boss?”
“Elisif is likely to be home soon, and I need to be absolutely certain that our plan will unfold as devised. I’ve asked our friend here whether he can perform as required and he assures me that he can – if you say so.”
Vyctyna tipped her head to the side, crossed her arms and tsk’d. “We have talked about this, boss, I promise you. I don’t quite know why there should be an issue.”
“Nor do I,” Edwyn purred. “However, if you could go over everything with him one more time I would very much appreciate it.”
Apparently he’d managed to let a cold edge sneak into his voice in spite of his best efforts, for Vyctyna gave him a sharp sideways look before heaving a sigh. “Yes, of course, my lord,” she said, emphasizing the last words in a way that left no doubt how little she enjoyed having her abilities doubted.
Edwyn winced. She’s an accomplished vampire even though she’s young, and it really was inconsiderate of me to doubt her. But we can’t take a single chance of being found out.
He stepped out of the way, allowing her to move closer to Geor. I truly want Elisif to have the child she desires. She deserves some happiness, after losing Torygg the way she did. I wish I could be the one to give her that child, but alas I cannot. All I can do is provide her as good a substitute as is available. And if she knows it is not I who is making love to her on this, or any other evening, it will cheapen her experience of motherhood.
I want to be High King. I would prefer not to do so by hurting Elisif. Harkon would call me weak for this. I don’t care.
“Now, Geor,” Vyctyna said. “What have we discussed?”
“I’m to lie with Elisif and give her a child, as you asked, Mistress,” he said.
“And tell us the sorts of things you’ll say to her,” she prompted.
Geor’s face betrayed no emotion whatsoever as he began reciting some of the intimate and rather specific things they’d discussed. It wouldn’t do for him to say something inappropriate in the heat of the moment – cry out another woman’s name, praise something about Elisif that Edwyn himself had never mentioned before, anything that would make her the least bit suspicious. That had been Vyctyna’s idea, and she had worked hard to convince Edwyn to go along with it. He’d reluctantly acquiesced, closed his eyes and replayed memories in his mind. Geor had repeated all of his words back to them, afterward.
Edwyn had been mortified and probably very red by the time they’d finished; but to his perpetual relief Vyctyna had reassured him. “Don’t be a prude, boss,” she’d told him. “It’s the best way to make sure this works. And face it, there are only so many parts and so many words to describe them in the world. You’re a special man, but in the end you are a man, after all.”
That is true enough. And so is Geor. In some ways he is more of a man than I.
He brought his attention back to the present as Geor ended his recitation. He nodded at the man and then at Vyctyna.
“Feeling reassured now, boss?” she asked, grinning.
“Yes, I am. Now I think it’s time for us to withdraw. Geor, meet Elisif when she arrives home.”
Geor looked at Vyctyna for confirmation. She sighed.
“Geor, when the master tells you to do something, you must do it just as if the order came from me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, mistress. I understand.”
Vyctyna turned to Edwyn and grinned. “Alright, boss, I’m out. I’ll be over at the inn if you need me.” She paused for a moment, furrowed her brow, and then moistened her lips. “Or perhaps I’ll be out hunting. I won’t be far, though. I’ll be glad when Aggie gets here. Hope everything goes well.”
Edwyn listened to Vyctyna’s soft footsteps receding and waited until he heard the door close before turning again to Geor.
“It’s nearly time, Geor. When Elisif arrives, she’ll be looking for you. Call to her from the bedchamber and then do as we’ve planned. I’ll come get you once she’s asleep.”
“As you wish, Master.”
Edwyn left Geor in the bedroom and then withdrew, positioning himself just inside the little-used sauna room across the way. Elisif never used the sauna; in fact, she actively disliked the space, so he knew she would not be likely to even look in his direction as he waited. It wasn’t long before he heard her arrive, and patter up the stairs, and begin chirping excitedly to Geor about her busy day.
He pushed the door open just enough to peer out through. Geor was standing near the doorway to the bedroom, listening to Elisif attentively but saying nothing more than “mmm-hmm” every so often.
“Well, my love, shall we try again? It is the right time, after all.” Elisif tugged on Geor’s hand.”
“Of course,” Geor murmured, smiling and following her through the doorway.
Edwyn realized that he was feeling an uncomfortable sensation, one he was not overly familiar with. He’d long since ceased being anxious over most things in life, but for some reason the idea of potentially losing face with Elisif weighed on him heavily. He slipped quietly from the sauna room and inched forward across the room until he could see Elisif’s back.
Then he pulled the shadows in around himself and watched, with a strange mix of delight and disgust, interest and embarrassment, as the man who looked exactly like him made love to his wife. He wavered between enjoying the view of Elisif’s lithe form and admiring the indisputable skill with which Geor attended to her every whim. And all the while, he uttered quiet homage to whichever deity Elisif favored, that she might conceive quickly and bear easily.
I don’t know how Vyctyna could have picked a better specimen.
I really can’t believe I’m doing this. The lengths to which I go for your dream, Harkon. I hope you’re watching from Coldharbour.
___
Ulfric was at his desk when Frina walked in. He looked up and smiled.
“Hello, love,” he said.
Frina smiled back. Someday I will be used to this man declaring his love for me, but so far it hasn’t completely sunk in. “Hello, yourself,” she said, crossing the room to kiss him on the cheek.
“What’s this? New clothing?” His gaze swept down her length and then back to her eyes. “It’s lovely. I wouldn’t have thought you the type to wear Colovian styles.”
“I liked the colors, Ulfric. It kind of goes with yours, don’t you think? If I’m going to be the King’s consort, I should look the part. Besides…”
She frowned. She didn’t like the “besides” part, not one little bit.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. I think your good cooks are having an adverse effect on my waistline. Everything feels kind of tight these days. So until you let me get back out into the field and work some of it off again…”
He laughed. “I know you want to be out there on the front lines, Stormblade, but given how uncertain the state of the province is still, I must insist that you stay close by my side.”
She sighed heavily. “I know. But it’s going to be months yet before we can do any work in the city, to say nothing of anything else.”
Ulfric smiled indulgently and turned back to his papers. “You have plans underway, I presume?”
“Yes. We have architects and miners scouting likely spots to harvest new stone for the steps and all. It’s just going to take a lot of time. Moving blocks that big isn’t… as easy as I’d thought it might be.” I really hadn’t taken the weight into consideration. I’m so simple sometimes. It doesn’t matter what station in life I’ve risen to, I can’t simply wave my hands and ignore the laws of nature.
Ulfric chuckled. “I suppose that explains why you’re restless, then. There isn’t much to keep a woman occupied in this castle.”
Frina’s temper flared. “It’s not that I’m a woman, Ulfric, it’s that I’m a soldier and I’m not used to being idle!”
Ulfric raised one eyebrow and cast a sideways glance at her. She sighed, and let the irritation drop away. I don’t know what is wrong with me today. I’m so touchy. She rested one hand on his shoulder.
“You have the entire province to be concerned about and people like Galmar to … ride herd on. I’m just at loose ends, and there are only so many hours of alchemy a person can practice without using up every valuable ingredient in the city.”
Ulfric chuckled. “Well perhaps I should send for Roggi then. You are aware that his skill in alchemy is exemplary, yes?”
“No, I didn’t know that. Really?”
He nodded. “Yes. One of his many talents is the creation of delicate poisons. He used them to great effect on our behalf, when he was first a member of the Stormcloaks. Perhaps he could give you lessons.”
“Huh. I don’t know why I didn’t know that about him, especially given that he was family.” She frowned for a moment, but then shook her head. “At any rate, I expect he has other things to keep him occupied, what with a home and a family. And who knows what he and Dardeh are doing now. Slaying dragons, no doubt.”
She waited for some kind of response, but instead of addressing her Ulfric slammed his hand down on the desk.
“Damn!”
“What is it?”
“I thought we might have solved the problem when you disrupted the Blood Horkers’ operations, my love,” he said. “But these reports say that piracy has begun to crop up once more, up along the more remote areas.”
“Really?” You mean I went through all of that terror for nothing? “That’s just awful. I don’t know why anyone would… it makes no sense. Who in the world benefits from disrupting the East Empire Company?”
Ulfric shot her a sharp glance and began rubbing his chin.
“As usual you prove yourself a most insightful companion, my dear. Who, indeed? That is the question of the moment.”
Frina blinked. Me, insightful? What is he talking about?
“Um… Do you have someone in mind?”
Ulfric rose from his chair and paced the room a few times. “Yes. I do indeed. But I need more to go on than a simple hunch. I wonder.” He stopped before her and took her hands. “If I recall correctly, you said that the person who told you about the pirates was someone in Riften, is that not so?”
“Yes. He’s… sort of…” She furrowed her brow, trying to parse out what their relationship actually was. “Roggi’s relative by marriage. Kind of. Half.”
Ulfric peered at her in confusion. “What are you saying?”
“I get confused with all these complicated family things. Dardeh – the Dragonborn…”
“Yes, I know who Dardeh is,” Ulfric muttered.
“He has a half-sister. She’s married to… the man I heard this from.”
Ulfric stood and walked toward the door. “I need to return to the throne room soon, Frina. Tell me, what is the man’s name? For I feel positive that I need to speak to him.”
“Um, it’s supposed to be a secret.”
Ulfric turned at the door and glared at her. “Frina, don’t be absurd.”
She felt her irritation flare again. “It’s absurd to keep a promise?”
“No, but you’re my wife. Are you truly going to keep secrets from me? Very well, then.” He strode back to his desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. He reached for a quill and an inkpot, and dipped the quill into it.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m sending for Roggi. He’ll tell me what I need to know, since you won’t. In fact he may know more. We need shipping to be free and open, Frina, or we will all suffer for it. In fact, were you not the one who said those same things to me?”
Frina suddenly felt unaccountably angry and emotional. She felt herself flushing and even a bit dizzy.
“Why is it that he’s the one you always want to call for, Ulfric?” she snapped, finding herself fighting back tears for no reason. “You have advisors, good ones, right here in the palace. Why is Roggi so special to you?”
Ulfric’s hand, and the quill in it, froze in mid-air. Frina waited for him to speak, but when he said nothing, she continued railing against him, a part of her mind wondering why she had suddenly turned into a shrill shrew of a wife.
“He told me that you were in a much better position than he was to discuss what happened between the two of you that made him so angry at you, and he wouldn’t tell me why. Don’t you think I deserve to know, Ulfric? You’re the two men I love most in this world, and there’s something about you, something important, that you’re both keeping from me. The whole time we were fighting in the war, he kept telling me to be careful around you and tried to warn me that I might get hurt by getting close to you. Why is that? And why did he come to our wedding even though he kept telling me that he couldn’t stand to be near you? What does he know about you that I don’t, husband?”
Ulfric set the quill down and turned to face her. “He said those things, did he?” His voice was very quiet.
“Yes, he did.” Suddenly she found herself weeping, for no reason that she could put a finger on. “He told me that when I said that I wanted to get back to you. Because he knew that I was in love with you, Ulfric, and he said…”
“What did he say?”
Frina’s mind went back to that dark night when she and Roggi had gone to the battle at Fort Snowhawk. She remembered how Roggi had gone completely white when she’d said Ulfric had told her what had happened between them. She remembered Roggi apologizing for being harsh with her, after having grabbed her and spoken sharply on their way there. Then, after they’d taken turns saving each other from a bad end in the battle, he’d told her to be careful. And then he’d said…
She suddenly went cold. She looked up and found Ulfric staring at her. She knew her eyes must be completely round with horror, judging by the look on his face.
Oh no. It can’t be. I thought, when he said that he understood, that Roggi was talking about being in love with Briinda.
Roggi was married to Briinda, but now he’s married to a man, which is a thing that surprised me more than I could say. And Ulfric told me that it had been many years since he had shared his bed, or any other…
It can’t be, can it?
“What is it that he told you, Frina?” Ulfric prompted again, very gently.
Frina moved back to the edge of the bed and lowered herself onto it, fearing that she would faint if she did not. She started sobbing.
“He said that he knew what it was like. He said ‘I understand how it is. Trust me, I really do.’ He was talking about getting back to you, wasn’t he? What happened between you, Ulfric? Were you lovers?”
Ulfric sighed. He looked defeated. She’d never seen such a look on his face before. But he didn’t look away from her. He held her gaze, firmly, even as tears welled up in his own eyes. He spoke, very quietly.
“Yes.”
“By the Nine, Ulfric,” she forced out between sobs. “How could you?”
He rose from his chair and stepped toward her. “May I come sit beside you?”
Frina wanted to scream at him, tell him to move away from her, but she was acutely aware at that moment that she was in the presence of the true ruler of Skyrim and that she was his wife and had no right to deny him. She nodded, even as fat tears plopped from her eyes onto her new clothing.
Ulfric sat down gently, and took one of her hands in his, as he had the night he had asked her to marry him. He started to speak and then stopped; once, twice; and on the third time he finally sighed and simply said her name.
“Frina.”
“What? What can you possibly say to me to make this better?”
“I love you, my own Stormblade. That is the truest thing I can say. I have given you my heart, such as it is, my dear wife, and bound my life to yours. What happened in the past is just that. The past. The distant past, at this point.”
Frina couldn’t look at him. But… Roggi. My dearest brother. The man my sister loved more than anything in the world.
“I told you that I had done things I deeply regret. That is the chiefest among them, Frina. I can’t truly explain it except to compare it with something you know well.”
She shook her head. She was trying hard to remember how she had come to the conclusion that it was ok that Roggi and Dardeh were married, because they loved each other so much. That it didn’t matter that they were both men, only that they were completely devoted to each other. And she tried to stretch her mind, to extend that acceptance to the idea that Roggi and Ulfric had shared something special as well. Every time she thought of it she sobbed harder.
“What thing, Ulfric?” she managed to force out of her throat, even while not being able to look at him.
“You told me that you came to Skyrim for me. That you came back to Windhelm for me. That you couldn’t stay away from me. You told me those things, did you not?”
Frina nodded.
“You came to me out of love and devotion, and unless I utterly misread the situation, a fair amount of desire.”
She sniffled, and then nodded. “I can’t deny that.”
“Roggi and I…” he shook his head again and sighed heavily. Then it seemed as though a dam had burst, the words rushing from him in a rapid torrent. “We also could not keep away from each other. He fascinated me. The sheer power the man has. The depth of his imagination. I had pushed him, led him to become an inquisitor to benefit our cause and then became obsessed by how good he was at it. He would do anything I asked. It was not a healthy obsession. I … coerced him into being with me, the first time, and I regret that more than anything else I have ever done. I truly did not anticipate the pull that would emerge between us, and neither did he.” He paused for a moment, took another deep breath, and continued.
“After that it was a mutual desire that kept us together, and both of us knew that it was wrong because of your sister. I did try to separate them, Frina, but not because I wanted her. I wanted him. For a time I thought it was more than simple mutual desire, but it wasn’t. Roggi loved your sister and I loved…”
Ulfric paused, and looked down at the floor, as if searching for an answer there. Frina watched emotions ripple over her husband’s usually-stoic face: confusion, anger, sorrow, and finally disgust. He frowned.
“I loved myself. As much as it pains me to admit, that is the stark truth. And then Roggi left. To marry her. It was a difficult, ugly parting and I am ashamed to admit that I have harbored resentment toward him for all the years between then and now.” He laughed, a quick burst with no humor in it. “And yet I still admire him and, I believe, he still respects and admires me. You saw how we still work well together, in spite of the resentments. I am fascinated by him still, by how much he has grown through being associated with the Dragonborn. If I could choose another advisor to have at my side perpetually, I would choose him. I … suspect he would not appreciate knowing that.”
She looked at him and saw the distress on his face. For the first time ever it occurred to her that Ulfric looked his age, looked as much older than her as he actually was. He was in pain, and that pain accentuated the deep lines on his face. He was disgusted with himself. It was as plain to her as anything ever had been from this man who was usually so good at presenting an almost stony visage to the world.
As appalled as she was by this sudden shift in her understanding of the world, Frina wanted nothing more than to comfort Ulfric. She scrubbed a hand across her eyes.
“I… don’t know what to say, Ulfric. She was my sister.”
“I know. I know.” He buried his head in his hands. “I had hoped never to need to reveal any of these things to you. They happened a very long time ago, and I never imagined then that I would ever even cross paths with you.”
“I was just a child then,” she said, feeling as though her voice was coming from somewhere far away, perhaps someone else’s voice.
Ulfric sat up and turned to face her again. “All I can tell you now is this. Nothing that transpired a decade ago – more than that – has anything to do with you, my love. It doesn’t change anything that has happened in our lives since you first came to my court. It doesn’t change the fact that I watched you fight my battles and help me win my war, and grew to love you as the time went by. It doesn’t change the fact that I want you by my side, now and for as long as I am fortunate enough to survive this world. You are my wife, and you will be my queen consort, but only if you are willing. It is complicated, and painful, and for me more than a bit shameful, but it does not erase what we have shared, you and I. It is desperately sad to me that words are all I have to offer you as proof of my sincerity. I am not a romantic man, and my words in particular are simply not enough. But they are all that I have, in spite of my station. I hope…” he swallowed, hard, and his voice grew softer, “…I hope that you will not leave me, my Stormblade, for you are dearer to me than any other person I have known.”
Frina looked at him, gazing into the green eyes she loved, taking in the shapes of the face she always wanted most in the world to see, and sighed. He’s right. And I told myself before I agreed to marry him that I would do so even if his motives were not completely pure, because Skyrim needs him to be its High King. I would be nothing but a hypocrite if I were to abandon those ideals now.
There were a great many things that she wanted to tell him; but words stuck in her throat and all she could do was nod, and wipe her eyes with the back of her hand, and hold her arms out to him. It was difficult, at first; but as they held each other the familiar warmth of his body enveloped her and she found herself relaxing.
This is still my Ulfric. He lived for a very long time before he met me, and experienced a great many things. I’m sure many of them wouldn’t make me happy. But they made him who he is. And that’s the man I love. And if he cared for Roggi too, well… I guess that simply means that the three of us have a deeper bond than I knew.
“I’m very sorry, Frina,” Ulfric whispered next to her ear. “I would have preferred never to hurt you with this.”
She pulled back and smiled at him; a small smile, all she could muster at the moment, but a smile nonetheless.
“It’ll be alright, my love,” she said. “It was just a shock. And I don’t know why everything has been hitting me so hard the past few days. I seem to be just a mess.”
“This must have been weighing on you for some time, even if you were not immediately aware of it. Given the things you’ve told me that you and Roggi discussed, I’m not surprised.”
“He didn’t want to give it away, either,” she said quietly. “He cares about me. I believe he cares about you as well, Ulfric. He is at least loyal to you.”
“To the Jarl of Windhelm, at least,” Ulfric muttered.
“Is that not enough? After all this time, is that not a great deal?”
Ulfric nodded. “I suppose it is.”
She took a deep breath. “His name is Brynjolf,” she said.
Ulfric turned to her, his eyebrows quirked in a confused frown. “What?”
“The man who told me that there was a problem with shipping. His name is Brynjolf and he lives in Riften. I met him here not long after I first came to Windhelm, right after you gave me your axe and told me to deliver it to Balgruuf. He was here with Roggi. The two of them are friends.”
Ulfric rubbed his chin. “And he knows about shipping in Skyrim… how?”
“I’m not entirely certain, Ulfric. But he’s the one.”
“Well then. I will write my letter after we see to matters of court. I will write it to him rather than to Roggi. Will that be suitable?”
She nodded. Ulfric rose from the bedside and held a hand out to her. She took it, and stood up.
She was about to step closer to him, to embrace him once more, to try to convince herself that it would be alright. But suddenly she found herself dizzy. She reached out to steady herself on Ulfric’s arm, but felt as if her head was being squeezed in a vise, her ears ringing. She heard Ulfric’s voice, asking whether she was alright, but couldn’t answer as it suddenly felt as though there was an odd pressure in her neck.
Then she dashed for the back of the room, barely making it to the basin that was still resting on its stand before her stomach emptied itself. She spent several ghastly minutes there, over the basin, with Ulfric coming up behind her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
Finally the ringing in her ears and pressure in her head receded, and her stomach settled itself. She wiped her mouth with the cloth next to the basin and slowly straightened up.
Why have I not paid attention to this? How long has it been? How many weeks?
“What is it, Frina? Should I call for the healers?” Ulfric looked desperately concerned, and she couldn’t help but chuckle at him.
By Talos. It makes sense now. What incredibly ridiculous timing.
“No, I’ll be fine. I probably just need to eat something. Some dry bread, perhaps.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve been wondering that exact thing for a couple of weeks now, Ulfric, and I believe I’ve finally figured it out.”
“What are you talking about?” he said, his face still furrowed.
“I’ve been so emotional. Every little thing has made me want to cry. I’ve been feeling more and more uncomfortable in my clothing.” Frina tugged at her new outfit, moving it around until it sat a bit more loosely on her frame. “And I’ve just gotten sick. In the morning. Undoubtedly being upset didn’t help much, but still.”
Ulfric shook his head. “I still don’t understand.”
“You will when I mention that my last span of moon days happened … some time ago. I haven’t really been paying attention.”
“Your last…. Oh!”
In spite of everything that had just happened, the sorrow that would take some time to heal, and in spite of feeling quite weak at that particular instant Frina couldn’t help but giggle at Ulfric, who first blushed a deep rose and then went pale. Surely a man of his age must have had some experience with a woman’s body, regardless of any dalliance he might have had with another man. He had never had any difficulty dealing with hers, at the very least.
“Does this mean what I think it means?” he breathed.
She closed her eyes and smiled, nodding, before opening them again to gaze at Ulfric.
“I think so. My lord Ulfric, I believe that you are to be a father.” She started counting on her fingers. “I think it must be about… nine weeks or so, by now.”
Before she had a chance to react, Ulfric had wrapped himself around her and was holding her so tightly that she could barely draw a deep breath.
“Oh my lovely Stormblade,” he murmured. “The gods are good to us, my love. You have given me the greatest gift I have ever received.”
For a brief moment an unhappy thought flitted through her mind. He just wants a child to cement his claim to the throne. But he pushed her back to arm’s length, and as she studied his face her doubts fell away and her heart warmed. She’d never seen Ulfric with a look of joy like the one he wore at that moment except on one occasion – the night of their wedding.
We will go forward from here, Ulfric Stormcloak, you and I. We are strong people. We will face what is ahead, whatever it may be, you and I and our child, and we will be stronger for having gone through painful times, both separately and together.
They called for one of the servants to clean the room, Frina apologizing profusely but then dissolving into laughter when the girl winked at her and said “new mothers do get the sicks sometimes, especially with the first one. It’s not to worry about, my lady, unless it doesn’t go away.” Then Frina had a small meal, with Ulfric fussing over her.
At last they went to the great, long audience chamber and Ulfric took his throne, preparing for the day’s business. Frina stood beside him, one step down. She turned to smile at him and her heart melted at his expression. His face spoke of sadness that he had needed to hurt her by telling her the truth. But it also spoke of great joy and love, concern, and hope for the future. And for that, Frina was exceedingly grateful.
