“Dar. I have to leave.”
Roggi didn’t want to leave without Dardeh. Especially given the fact that Rayya was still looking at him as though she wanted to devour him.
The girls didn’t seem to notice – they’d been overjoyed to have Lydia back at home with them and largely accepted Rayya as just another person living in the house. Lydia had been somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of another adult woman living there, but she gracefully accepted the notion that Dardeh was now a thane in Falkreath Hold, and Rayya came with the position, just as she herself was attached to the Thaneship in Whiterun.
It wasn’t that Roggi mistrusted Dardeh, even though it had crossed his mind more than once that Dardeh finally had a woman who shared at least part of his racial heritage and who clearly wanted to share more than her sword arm with him. Dardeh said that he’d made his preferences clear to Rayya, just as he had to Lydia. He would have his hands full, anyway, riding herd on the children, keeping the fireplaces stocked with wood, and dealing with any dragons that might appear while Roggi was away.
I just want him with me. This is going to be hard enough as it is.
“Absolutely not, Roggi,” Dardeh had said when the courier arrived with the letter from Frina. “I will not make a further hypocrite of myself by standing up and wishing Ulfric well in his love life. Not after what he did to you.”
Roggi had sighed, frustrated, wishing he had some way to explain how important this was to him.
“It’s Frina, Dar,” he’d muttered. “She’s family – or at least she was family. I feel obligated to go.” But it’s not just that, he had thought. I need to witness Ulfric’s marriage. I need it as badly as Dardeh needs dragons.
And the worst of it is that I think Dar understands that, too, even though he would never come right out and say so.
Dardeh approached Roggi and shook his head.
“I wish you’d reconsider this. I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be, Dar. I’ll admit that it would be easier if you were coming with me, but don’t worry. Bryn and Sayma are there in Riften. I don’t have my tools with me and I’m not going to let him talk me into any side jobs. I’m just going to go, watch the wedding, and come home. And if I don’t get going I’ll miss it.”
Dardeh nodded. “Alright. I’ll see you in a few days. Be careful, Roggi. I don’t want you to get hurt all over again.” He leaned forward and gave Roggi a peck on the cheek, then turned back toward the fireplace, where both Lydia and Rayya were seated.
Roggi sighed. That’s all he’s been willing to give me in front of them, ever since we came back. I hope we’re going to be alright.
He left the house, adjusting his sword to a more comfortable position as he squinted up at the cloudy sky. It was going to be a very long run to make it to Riften in time.
___
Frina made her way into Riften’s marketplace, not quite suppressing the grin from her face. She knew he was just behind her, and she knew that people must recognize him and wonder what he was doing there.
The deep brogue that had been calling out to the unwary regarding Falmerblood Elixir suddenly went quiet for a moment. Frina grinned a bit more broadly.
“Psst! Lass! Over here!”
She laughed and made her way to the stand where he was looking in amazement between her and Ulfric. Glancing behind her, she saw that Ulfric, while not actually smiling, had an amused look on his face.
“Hello, Brynjolf,” she said, smiling at him. “How are you doing?”
“I’m just fine, lass,” he said in a loud whisper. “But what’s more important is how are you? And even more to the point, unless I have lost my faculties completely that’s Ulfric Stormcloak over there.”
“Yes, it is,” she snickered.
“What is he doing here, lass?” Brynjolf hissed urgently. “And doesn’t he know that it’s dangerous for him, of all people, to be just… wandering around out here in broad daylight?”
Frina laughed. Brynjolf seemed genuinely concerned. What he didn’t realize was that Jorlief, Galmar, and a fairly sizeable contingent of Ulfric’s household guard were all making their way quietly around the edges of the city, keeping an eye out for any sort of threat.
“It’s fine, Brynjolf,” she said. “We’ve come here because we’re going to be married as soon as the clock changes the day. If you’d like to come, you are most welcome.” She frowned. “I wrote to Dardeh and Roggi, but I haven’t heard from them, so I don’t know whether they’ll be here or not.”
Brynjolf smiled at her. “Congratulations, lass. I think that under the circumstances of my particular employment it might be best if I stay clear. I have nothing personal against the Jarl, you understand, but…” He shook his head. “Business. But I wish you the best, both of you. And now I understand why the lad showed up on my doorstep this morning.”
Frina tilted her head to the side, confused. “What?”
Brynjolf smiled. “Roggi. He’s having a rest over in our old house across the way. Had a long trip to get here, he said, and was dead tired and covered with mud. I expect you’ll see him when it’s time for your ceremony.”
Frina had to hold tight to herself to keep from bouncing. “Oh that’s wonderful! Thank you so much for letting me know. That’s…” Her eyes started welling up. “That’s the best news.”
“Yes, well I think you’d best see to your Jarl,” Brynjolf said quietly, grinning and tilting his head in the direction of Ulfric. Ulfric was pacing back and forth in front of the smithy; the smith was staring at him with an expression that said “I should know this man but I don’t know why,” and Frina realized that Brynjolf was wise to suggest they fade out of sight for a bit.
She went to Ulfric and took his hand, smiling at him. “I think you should go find the inn for a little while,” she told him. “I have a few things to do to get ready and I want to surprise you.”
Ulfric smiled back at her, the warmth of it lighting his eyes as well as his face.
“Very well. Perhaps a short nap will be a good idea. I wouldn’t want my advanced age to be an issue when it is time for the ceremony.”
“You’re a foolish man, Ulfric Stormcloak,” Frina murmured, then leaned forward and kissed him. “And I love you. Don’t be late to our wedding.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Stormblade. I value my hide, still, even after all the years I’ve worn it.” He grinned and made his way toward the inn.
Frina, on the other hand, made her way through Riften’s graveyard to the shrine of Talos, and knelt before it in the fading sunlight. One of the local priestesses was at the shrine as well. They stayed there, quietly worshipping together, each lost in her own thoughts.
Talos guide me, as you always have.
___
It was dark, nearly midnight, when Frina approached the Temple of Mara. She took a deep breath and expelled it, then smiled and mounted the steps.
During the short time between Ulfric’s proposal of marriage and their trip to Riften, Frina had located a seamstress in Windhelm. The two of them had worked together feverishly to make a dress unlike the type of formal garb one usually saw in Skyrim, not even at a wedding. This was red and cream, with dark stripes and a halter top that bared her pale shoulders and much of her chest. It was possibly the loveliest garment she’d ever worn. She had a gold and ruby necklace – one of the spoils from her raid of the first bandit camp she’d found in Skyrim, what felt like another lifetime ago – and it was the perfect finishing touch. She was particularly excited that she’d been able to keep it a complete secret from Ulfric. He undoubtedly wouldn’t have cared if she’d married him in her scaled horn armor, but she was determined to give him something to remember.
If I’m going to be the High King’s consort one day I’m going to look like a queen ought to look. And no cold Skyrim night air is going to bother Ice-Veins.
She stepped into the temple and glanced around. There were Jorlief, and Galmar, and several of the other guards stationed discreetly around the edges of the space. She thought she saw a familiar blonde head seated in the front of the room, and for a moment contemplated going to Roggi, to thank him for coming.
“Stormblade,” she heard from just behind her to the left.
She turned to find Ulfric seated in the last pew. When he saw her his eyes began to sparkle. He stood and took her hand.
“You are… exquisite,” he murmured. “I cannot quite believe my great good fortune to be taking such a lovely woman to wife.”
Frina grinned at him. “Thank you, Ulfric. And I am equally fortunate.” She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “There is a good reason aside from your position that your female subjects admire you, my love.” She giggled. “And probably some of the male subjects as well.”
She thought that for just a moment Ulfric almost… winced. She decided that she must have just been imagining it, though, for he smiled and said “Let us be married, shall we?” and led her to the front of the room.
After that, it seemed to her as though the only people alive in Tamriel were Maramal the priest, Ulfric, and herself. Oh, she could certainly see Galmar in the front seat just beyond Ulfric, and she sensed that Roggi was behind her. But as Ulfric promised to join with her in love now and forever, and smiled with his face and his eyes, Frina’s world narrowed to encompass only the two of them and the man who gave them matching rings and pronounced them to be wed. Ulfric gathered her up into his arms and kissed her gently, saying “I can scarcely believe that I am married after such a long life. Now, my wife, we will need to move you into the palace where you belong.”
Frina laughed. “I suppose it’s only right. I’ve spent enough time there lately. Don’t expect me to just stand around looking ornamental, though, Ulfric.”
His eyes sparkled. “But you are so very ornamental, my Stormblade. It seems a shame to make you work.”
“Ha. Perhaps you can give me my own command. We do need to prepare, after all.”
Ulfric laughed. “We’ll consider that once you’re settled.” He inclined his head toward the seats. “Perhaps you should go greet your guest. I suspect he came here for you, not for me.” Ulfric released Frina and moved to where Galmar and Jorlief waited to hand him a mug of mead, clap him on the back and share their congratulations.
Frina smiled and turned to her left. She stopped stock-still for a moment, her mouth dropping open, an overwhelming feeling of déjà vu washing over her.
Roggi was in the front seat, dressed in plain clothing. If not for the fact that he was not carrying a pickaxe she might have thought herself a young child again, looking at her beloved brother resting after a day of work in Steamscorch Mine. But Roggi was staring at the floor, his hands on his legs. She came back to herself slowly as she realized that he looked miserable. He looked as though he was in pain.
It has to be difficult to watch me being married when he and Briinda were not able to have their ceremony here. Oh my poor brother. What can I do?
She forced her face back into a smile and approached him.
“Roggi. Thank you so much for coming. Aren’t you going to congratulate me?”
He cleared his throat and nodded, but didn’t raise his head. “Congratulations.”
“Oh come on, Roggi, you can do better than that, surely.”
When he spoke, his voice was very constricted, as though he was holding back emotions he did not want to share.
“I’m happy for you, Frina. But this reminded me…” He sighed, and then managed a small smile. “You are so beautiful tonight. And you look so much like your sister. I’m…” He looked up at her at last, his eyes deep pools of blue turned dark, and raised his hands in an air of frustration. “I’m sorry. This isn’t about me. But I can’t help but remember.”
Frina slid onto the pew beside him and pulled him into an embrace for just a moment. His shoulders were warm, and muscular, and felt much like Ulfric’s. The casual tunic Roggi wore was laced, but loosely, revealing a good expanse of his muscled chest. It hadn’t ever occurred to her to compare the two of them before, but they were very much alike in many ways, both blonde and of powerful build.
I probably remind both of them of sad times in the past, every day. I wish I didn’t.
“I know, Roggi. It never really goes away completely. Not for me, either. I’m really glad you were here, though. It meant so much to me.” She grabbed for one of his hands and squeezed it.
He smiled wanly. “You know I’ll always love Briinda. Always. And it will always sting that I never got to stand up there with her the way we’d planned. I felt like I died right along with her, that day, you know? But there is one good thing about this place.” He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed deeply.
“What’s that?”
“This is where I married Dardeh. And that was the day I began truly living again.” He opened his eyes and smiled at her, and she saw joy in them for just a moment before sadness flickered in around the edges again.
He patted her hand. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I just need to sit here and be quiet for a bit. I’ll be alright. If you’re happy, Frina, that’s what counts.”
“I am,” she said. “I can’t remember being this happy since… since I was a little girl, and you were my big brother Roggi.” She hugged him again.
He smiled, and nodded, but his brows came together in an expression of pain and he closed his eyes again. Frina thought she saw dampness creeping out from beneath his lashes.
She left him, then, and turned to see Ulfric smiling at her.
My husband. My king.
Frina moved to where he was standing and slipped one arm around his waist.
“Are you happy, my lord?”
Ulfric snorted. “How many times, Frina? My name is Ulfric.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “All of the times, Ulfric. From now until the end of time.”
__
“Roggi.”
The deep voice rumbled quietly over his head. He squeezed his eyelids tight shut and gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the man.
“Roggi, I wanted to thank you for coming.”
In what felt like another lifetime, those words would have made him happy. In that other lifetime he had wanted nothing more than to please this man who had looked into his soul and found the very worst instincts he had. This man, this supposed king, had awakened desires in him that ran counter to every standard of decent behavior and had shown him things about himself that he hadn’t even imagined before. He’d been willing to do anything at all for Ulfric. And it had cost him his marriage. No, of course Ulfric hadn’t been responsible for Briinda’s death. He’d just been responsible for the death of what should have been. Of what he, Roggi, should have been.
I recognize you by the sound of your movements, Ulfric. By your scent. Even with my eyes closed. That part of me that desired you more than any other person I’d ever known still remembers. And now I’ve had to debase myself, to help you win your war, and watch you marry Briinda’s sister. I want to hurt you. I want to peel the flesh from your bones, slowly. I want to make you sing with the pain.
But I can’t. I can’t let myself do that. Because if I do, I lose everything. If I do, I lose myself all over again. And I can’t do that to Dardeh.
“I didn’t come for you, Ulfric. I came for Frina, out of respect. Because of Briinda. For her memory.”
“I know that. Nevertheless, my friend, I wish to thank you for being here. I know it wasn’t easy for you.”
Roggi opened his eyes and looked up into the face that once had been the center of his world. It was so odd, he thought, that both Ulfric and Brynjolf had sparkling green eyes. One set belonged to a true friend. The other did not. He smiled.
“I’m not your friend, Ulfric. Don’t ever mistake me for one.”
Ulfric nodded slightly. “I know, and I regret it. It should be otherwise. There are a great many things I wish had happened differently. But…”
“But what?”
“It still means a great deal to me that you are here. You acquitted yourself admirably through all of this. I didn’t deserve your loyalty, nor Dardeh’s.”
Roggi smirked. “No, you didn’t,” he said quietly. “And as far as Dardeh is concerned, I don’t believe you had it. You’ll notice he refused to come with me. He hated the war, and he hated having to back you, even though we all know you are the best hope we have to survive the Thalmor. He did what he did for the sake of Talos. And I did what I did for him.”
Ulfric frowned. He lowered his voice and hissed.
“Damn it, Roggi, can you not recognize when someone is trying to apologize?”
Well, well.
He considered Ulfric’s expression for a moment. He saw the intensity of the gaze, heard the barely-disguised emotion in the voice; and he was surprised. Ulfric was being entirely honest with him. It was important to Ulfric that he accept this apology. Roggi was truly surprised. And pleased. He thought he saw something else in Ulfric’s gaze, too, something that might explain this unexpected gesture on his part.
He leaned back against the pew and crossed his arms.
I’ll be damned for eternity for this, but I don’t care.
“Ulfric, I need to say something to you.”
“Yes?”
Roggi spoke as quietly as possible. He kept smiling, so as not to attract attention.
“Being with you nearly killed me. And you know that I enjoyed it anyway even though I didn’t want to. You know that, don’t you.”
Ulfric smirked, and Roggi saw a spark of something dancing in his eyes, an excitement that could not be hidden. There it is. Dardeh was right about him. He still wants me, and I’m not even sure he recognizes it for what it is. I’m surprised. I thought I knew him so much better than Dardeh does.
Even on your wedding day, Ulfric. How vile.
“Yes,” Ulfric murmured. “You finally realized who you were. I knew it all along.”
“Well. Be that as it may, I have only one thing to say to you.”
“And that is?”
“To Oblivion with you, Ulfric Stormcloak. And to Oblivion with your apologies.”
He rose slowly and stood not more than a breath away from Ulfric’s face. He smiled, and knew it was an unpleasant smile.
“I remember things about you, Ulfric,” he murmured, in that tone he’d used to speak to the assassin on the hillside in the Rift, and to Galathil, the Face Sculptor; a tone he’d used to ask Dagnell if they should consider finding a way to keep warm, one night in Nilheim. It was low, soothing, almost a purr. “I haven’t forgotten… what you enjoy and what you don’t. I will never forget. I’m quite certain I could still make you whimper and like it, and I know that I could make you hurt. And the best part of that is that you’re the one who taught me how to do it.” He watched the expression on Ulfric’s face, the effort he was putting into not revealing his reactions, and wanted to laugh because he knew the depths of Ulfric’s fear where torture was concerned.
“But don’t worry, Ulfric. I never will. I don’t need to hurt people any more. Just… don’t forget how well and how easily I can. And if you do anything to hurt Frina, anything at all, I’ll be here to remind you.”
He reached up and laid one hand on Ulfric’s shoulder, a gesture that would look like a friendly pat to anyone else in the room. And then he squeezed. Roggi’s grip – the one he had developed through years of swinging a pickaxe, the same grip that could bring a greatsword down through a body as easily as most men could slice bread – was massively strong. He could inflict a great deal of pain with very little effort. It was one of the reasons they’d chosen him to be trained as a torturer. Ulfric’s expression changed to barely concealed panic as the pressure increased, and he gasped.
Roggi let go, and smiled warmly.
“I’ll be seeing you, Jarl Ulfric,” he said loudly in a falsely cheerful voice. “Congratulations on your wedding. I’m so happy for both of you.”
He walked down the familiar aisle of the Temple of Mara, to where Frina was speaking with Galmar, and tapped her on the arm.
“I need to go now, Frina,” he said as she turned to him with a face radiating joy. “Give me a hug.” She did so.
“Take good care of each other,” he told her. “You know where to find me. I’m not likely to come visiting.”
Frina frowned. “I don’t know what it is you have against Ulfric, Roggi, but he’s my husband now.”
“Yes, yes he is, and one of these days he’ll be High King and you’ll be the royal consort and I for one will rest easier knowing that you’re beside him. That said, even though you know how much I like to tell a good story he’s far better situated to explain to you what transpired between us than I am.”
He smiled, then, a genuine smile, because Frina didn’t deserve to be hurt the way she would be if Ulfric ever confessed. “Don’t worry about it, Frina. I’ll still support him when I need to. I know how important that is. Most of all, I want you to be happy.”
“I am, Roggi. I’m so happy. I just wish Briinda could have been here.”
“Yes, well. Something tells me that she was, in a way. Take care of yourself. I need to get back to Dar and the girls.”
Roggi Knot-Beard left the Temple of Mara, whistling, feeling lighter than he had in years.
I probably shouldn’t have planted that seed. Eventually she’s going to wheedle it out of him. Maybe it won’t matter to her. She has gotten used to me being married to Dar, after all.
He really still wants me, after all this time. Who would have imagined it. I guess being with Dar has kept me young.
He looked up at the moons working their way toward the horizon and broke out into a huge grin.
Or maybe I’m just that good.
He laughed out loud at himself.
You are not a nice man, Roggi Knot-Beard.