Serana walked through the huge, empty expanses of Castle Volkihar, trying to decide what to do. Her anger was such that it was standing in the way of any useful action and had been so for days. Thus, she paced through the castle. She had to do something, and soon.
It was a beautiful space now, for the most part, and had been since Andante and Brynjolf had undertaken its restoration following the death of her father. But there was nobody in it, no great new expansion of the Volkihar Clan as Andante had talked about.
Her mother kept to herself, in her tower, with her alchemical plants and her experiments. She tended the garden in the courtyard, which looked nearly as lovely now as it had before Serana had found herself locked away for who knew how long. It made Serana sad that Valerica didn’t socialize with the rest of them very often, but she certainly understood it. She’d spent far too many years to count a prisoner of the Ideal Masters, looking at nothing more interesting than the grey and purple landscapes of the Soul Cairn, to feel comfortable among her peers any longer, or so it seemed to Serana.
So Serana wandered the halls, making certain that there were no further eruptions of reanimated skeletons or incursions of untrained death hounds. She watched on the balconies for the inevitable attacks of Dawnguard remnants or Vigilants of Stendarr. The number of attacks had been dwindling, though. It seemed as though the crisis that had come to a head with the recovery of Auriel’s Bow had largely quieted down, and life had become a long series of hunting trips, reading books, and otherwise completely dull activities.
The problem was that Serana was still very angry.
She’d been angry as soon as she’d stepped out of her imprisonment and met Andante. She’d immediately been drawn to his charm, his looks, and his brash courage. Then she’d discovered that he was in love with Brynjolf, that he no more than tolerated her, and that he was merely using her to get to her father, to get to the Bow and to get her blood once he had that Bow. She’d been angry at him right up to the day when she’d gotten the courier’s note from the tiny vampire named Babette, and had gone to meet her and take possession of the items Brynjolf had sent to her. Andante had died, Brynjolf’s note said. The castle was hers. That had been Andante’s dying wish, he said.
For a brief moment she’d been excited for the future, excited by the possibilities of what they might do with the castle if it was hers. She’d been sorry for Brynjolf’s loss; but she had shaken her head, and put the letter away.
Then she’d become angry again. Because in spite of the letter; in spite of having been told that Andante’s final wishes were that the castle be hers, the senior-most men amongst the Volkihar clan refused to acknowledge her position. Orthjolf and Garan Marethi certainly didn’t intend to step down in favor of a woman, as far as she could tell, and Vingalmo – well Vingalmo had always been an issue.
She reached the small chapel and stared for a moment at the blood fountain there, wondering whether it would even matter if she showed her respects to the great Molag Bal or not. She sighed, and knelt before the altar for a few moments, contemplating her life and all that had happened since she had emerged from her confinement.
Such as the matter of Edwyn.
She rose and continued on her way through the castle.
Edwyn Wickham. She had fallen head over heels in love with Edwyn, back when her family was still a family and Edwyn was just an up-and-coming, rank-and-file vampire in her father’s service. Back before her father had given him the Gift and created him as a Vampire Lord. Back before he’d been sent to Cyrodiil for so many years. Back before she’d been locked away.
He loved me too. I’m certain that he did. I’ve never known another man who treated me so well, who showed me such respect, who shared with me such overwhelming passion…
It had been easy for her to pretend that it was simply a passing fancy, that while she clearly enjoyed Edwyn it wasn’t anything serious. He had done the same. Somehow, though, without saying a word the two of them had known that they were meant to be together. They’d spent every moment that they could together. The entire court knew of their high esteem for each other and likely suspected that they were having an affair. She was certain that her mother had recognized that, and had quietly kept her counsel, keeping the secret from Harkon. Then things had changed.
Her father had taken Edwyn under his wing. They’d spent more and more time with their heads together, planning things to which she was not privy. Her father had sent him away, to Cyrodiil.
For a very long time the letters had come. But the time between them had become greater, the silences longer, and eventually Serana had resigned herself to the notion that Edwyn was no longer a part of her life.
Then he came back.
He came back, inserting himself into their lives as though he’d never left, as though he’d been expected in some way.
He was different, from the moment he stepped into the hall. He was my father’s right hand, and he expected to be treated as the heir regardless of whether he was or not. He simply expected it. He was the high, the mighty Archmage of the College of Winterhold. He looked down his nose at Andante and everything he’d done. No matter what I thought of Andante and his motives, he was responsible for freeing us from my father’s madness and for restoring this castle, and for Edwyn to treat him like some sort of mongrel… it isn’t right.
And yet, she hadn’t been able to resist Edwyn when he’d approached her. It was like falling back into the best dream she’d ever had. They remembered each other, every touch, every taste, every scent of each other. He’d shown her every bit as much passion as he had when they’d been much younger, and possibly more.
How much he missed me, he said. How he’d longed for me and for my return, all those many years and decades and centuries in Cyrodiil. And I believed him. I believed every word that he said and I was so overwhelmingly happy to see him again…
And he married Elisif.
He married Elisif of Solitude. That weak-minded, weak-willed, pitiful excuse for a Jarl who only sits her throne because she was married to a man who worshipped the very ground she walked on, according to all reports. Edwyn wooed her, even while he was bedding me! He pursued her, gave her gifts…
Arrrgh!!
She fired a spell at the wall. It did no damage, but it did make her feel a bit better.
She’d been ready to kill him that very moment, when he’d hesitantly admitted to her that he’d actually married the woman. Instead, she’d stayed her hand and walked away because in spite of everything she still cared for him. He was still the only vampire she’d ever met whose future she might have considered joining to her own. When the flames of her anger had damped down just a bit she’d been forced to recognize that yes, Edwyn was her father’s creation and he was simply carrying out her father’s wishes.
Controlling me even from beyond this world, Father. You couldn’t leave me my life, not even after your own death.
The final straw, though, had come after Edwyn’s second absence.
She’d been in her quarters, resting and reading. She’d heard voices coming from the great hall, the sounds of voices calling out greetings, and she’d made her way down to the balcony where her father had so often stood to look out over his assembled minions.
At first, her heart had taken a leap. It was Edwyn. He looked so utterly majestic in the black robes of the Archmage. It had taken her a moment to remember: he wasn’t hers, he would never be hers, at least not during the lifetime of the mortal woman he’d married. As that memory had forced itself into her consciousness she had felt the anger return, burning cold like the blue flames of Coldharbour itself. She’d been ready to go confront him, ask him how he dared present himself in her castle once more – for he had admitted to her that he recognized the validity of Andante’s wishes. She’d been ready to speak to him again.
Then she’d seen a thing that had forever changed her mind.
He had lifted Vingalmo by the front of his armor. Lifted him into the air – no small feat for a short-statured Breton man to do, given the Altmer’s prodigious height. She’d watched as he dropped every civilized pretense he’d ever cultivated in the court and had reached for Vingalmo’s throat with his other hand – and ripped the venerable vampire’s windpipe out of his body. Then he had knelt, and drunk Vingalmo’s blood, and fired his corpse to a pile of ash.
Vingalmo had been a pompous, condescending, conniving, ambitious and cunning vampire. He had also been a brilliant scholar, incandescently brilliant, with a view of history longer than almost anyone else’s. His research had been recorded, and treasured, and studied through all of the ages she’d been locked away, and before that, and after that.
Vingalmo was an annoying, miserable person. But he had been faithful to the Volkihar clan even while he’d hoped to lead it, his loyalties resting with the assemblage even if not with any one particular Lord of the castle.
He had not deserved to have his life ended like a common piece of prey.
That had been the day Serana’s love for Edwyn Wickham, Lord of the Volkihar and Archmage of the College of Winterhold, had changed. That was the day that she had come to a decision. She’d taken her time, and paced the corridors of the castle, trying to talk herself out of it; but there was no changing her mind. She knew what she needed – and wanted – to do.
She continued back through the castle to her quarters. She pulled a piece of parchment out of her desk, took a seat, and began to write to the one person in the world she could think of who might possibly be able to help her achieve her goal.
___
Dardeh put his hand on Roggi’s shoulder. They had needed to leave hours ago, but Roggi was finding every excuse in the world to procrastinate.
“Roggi.”
Roggi glanced at him and heaved a sigh. “What is it, Dardeh?”
Dardeh smiled. “You only ever call me that when you’re feeling very serious. But we need to get going now, or we’re going to end up stuck out on the tundra at night. Given all the vampires we’ve encountered recently I’d really rather not chance it again.”
“Yeah, I know.” Roggi shook his head. “I don’t suppose we could just send him a letter.”
They’d talked about it the previous night, and had agreed to make a trip to Windhelm. Dardeh had even spoken to Lydia about it, and she had agreed. Ulfric needed to know what was going on with his new outpost in Helgen, since he was supporting it with his troops. He needed to know what had become of Valerius Tiberius Artoria, even if the man hadn’t been directly connected to him. He needed to know who was in charge and who he should consider a contact. What they hadn’t discussed with Roggi, even though they’d talked it over together, was how much Roggi needed to speak to Ulfric in light of his experience in Helgen.
Ordinarily I wouldn’t have talked about such a personal detail with anyone, but Lydia has seen Roggi through thick and thin. I trusted her to give me an honest opinion. I was glad to know she agrees with me.
Dardeh shook his head. His smile fell. “You have to do it. You have to talk to him. You know you do.”
Roggi closed his eyes and nodded. “I know I do. But I don’t even know what to say to him. And…”
“And?”
“Dar. So many things have been stirred up again. I don’t even know whether I can trust myself.”
Dardeh took his shoulders and turned him so they were facing each other and stared into his eyes. He didn’t doubt what they needed to do, but he knew that Roggi did.
“Roggi. Do you love me?”
Roggi raised his eyebrows, looking almost pained at the question. “You know I do. More than anything.”
Dardeh nodded. “Well then there’s no reason to be worried. It’s all right. It will be so much better when you both put this behind you. It’ll be better for you, it’ll be better for us, and it’ll be better for our future High King to have this weight off his shoulders. At least as much as it can be.”
Roggi nodded. “Dar.” His smile was small, but genuine.
Dardeh smiled again. “What is it?”
“I don’t deserve you.”
“Well, I would put that the other way around. But thank you. Now let’s get going before it’s pitch black outside and we need to play with vampires again.”
Roggi nodded, heaved himself to his feet and fastened his sword across his back. They hugged the girls goodbye yet again and left, heading down the hill for the long trek to Windhelm. Dardeh kept glancing at Roggi, but it was clear that the man was going to keep his own counsel for the time being.
I hope it will be alright. I hope I’m not making a mistake, deliberately throwing them together like this. I hope I’m right, and Frina and I won’t end up on the outside looking in. I don’t know how either of us would be able to handle that.
His mind started running down alleys he’d rather it didn’t. Then he stopped himself. One way or another, they would see Ulfric in a day or two and it would do him no good to borrow trouble at this point.
___
Ulfric looked up from his papers to smile at the sound of Frina entering the room from above. He’d been trying to settle some matters, here in the map room, before having to face the court. He was expecting an arrival, shortly; and after that the day would no longer be his own.
“Hello, love,” he said as she approached, smiling, to stand before him. “How are you and my son this day?” He rested his hand on her stomach, which was still flat enough that nobody outside their intimate circle would likely detect that she was pregnant. That was both a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing because he wanted her to be safe, and yet still wasn’t certain about the status of his city following the conclusion of the war. Who knew what sick minds might be willing to harm her if they knew she was with child? It was a curse for the same reasons: there was no visibly obvious proof of the fact that there would soon be an heir to Windhelm’s throne. It wouldn’t be long, to be sure, but for now…
For now we and the chambermaids and Jorlief keep the knowledge close. I have no doubt that the rumors will be spreading well beyond the city gates soon enough, though, for no maid I’ve ever known could keep a lock on her tongue for any amount of time; especially not when it regards such an exciting piece of gossip.
“We’re fine, thank you, Ulfric,” Frina said, leaning over to brush his lips with her own. She started to straighten up again but he held her for a moment, making a proper kiss of the moment.
“It’s a shame that court business calls,” he murmured when she pulled away.
“Ulfric! You’re shameless,” she replied, grinning at him, but twining her fingers into his and giving his hand a squeeze.
It had been a tentative time, at first, after he’d had to admit to her that he’d had more than a business relationship with Roggi. He’d treated her as gently as he knew how. The news of their impending parenthood, though, had overshadowed what was in the end a very old pain. It was the case, after all, that they had married for the usual reasons and not even the rattling of an old skeleton in the wardrobe had been enough to keep them separated for long.
The woman makes me feel thirty years younger. Even in her delicate condition she manages to tire me out.
“And what exactly makes you so certain it is a son I’m carrying, my lord?” she asked, her eyes twinkling. “What if it’s another fragile beauty like me?”
He stared at her for a moment and then roared with laughter. “Fragile! You? No, my dearest Stormblade. You are the most distant thing from fragile that I could imagine. Beautiful? Yes indeed. But never fragile.” He stood and pulled her near.
I can’t let her go. Nothing must ever come between us again. I don’t know how many winters I may have left but all of them – every one – must be spent holding this woman in my arms.
“You flatter me, sire,” she said, smiling at him. “But assuming that it is a son I bear, what shall we name him?”
Ulfric caught his breath for a moment. Hoag. I would name him Hoag, after my father, lost while I was imprisoned. But that would be as much an invitation to violence against him as giving him my own name would be.
“That is a very good question, wife. There are many reasons to shun my first instincts. Perhaps we should give him a great name, from the history of Windhelm.”
Frina looked thoughtful for a moment.
“What about Harald? It seems somehow fitting for him to carry the name of the founder of Windhelm. Perhaps he will be the founder of a new era, following the life of his father the High King.”
Ulfric’s heart nearly skipped a beat. He reached out and cupped Frina’s cheek.
“This is why you are so dear to me. You see the sweep of our history. You see the world in large terms, as I do.”
“Well, yes,” she said, with a wry grin as her gaze passed behind his shoulder to something behind him. “And I also see Jorlief standing at the door.”
Ulfric turned his head to see that yes, Jorlief was in fact standing at the door. He had an odd look on his face, Ulfric thought, but it wasn’t clear what he was thinking.
“My lord, you have a visitor,” Jorlief said. “He’s just arrived, and is in the great room.”
“Yes indeed. Well don’t keep him waiting. Bring him here, Jorlief. I’ll be with him in a moment.”
“Very well, sir,” Jorlief murmured, withdrawing.
“I had word from Brynjolf of Riften,” he told Frina, who he was still holding close. “I was expecting his arrival today. Undoubtedly it is he…” He trailed off as Frina’s smiling eyes distracted him yet again. “By the gods you are beautiful, wife,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her once again.
The sound of a throat being cleared interrupted him, and his eyes flew open. Even without looking, he knew whose throat it was he had heard. The sound was unmistakable.
“No, it’s not Brynjolf. It’s me.”
Frina pulled back from him as though she’d been stung, for just a moment. Then her face assumed the neutral calm of someone born to a high office, although she hadn’t been. A tiny portion of his mind said Look at her. Remarkable. The rest of him fought for composure as he turned to face his guest.
“Roggi. I am surprised to see you here.”
Surprised. And pleased. And by the gods your timing could not possibly be worse.
It took no more than a second for him to scan Roggi’s face and be certain that something bad had happened. He saw the Dragonborn’s dark bulk just behind Roggi; but it was Roggi’s eyes, and his bearing, that made it clear that things were not as they should be.
He trembles. Only a bit, but he trembles as he did the first time they came to see me after having been absent from my life for so long. What am I seeing in his face? When I was married he was angry, and hurt, and threatening and now… What is this?
“No more surprised than I am to be here, Ulfric,” Roggi said quietly. He looked past Ulfric and smiled at Frina. “Dar insisted. Frina. It is good to see you. I’m sorry we arrived unannounced.”
Dardeh stepped past him into the room. Ulfric watched him touch Roggi on the back as he passed, a touch of reassurance and support. He met Roggi’s gaze again for a moment, only to have the man look away in discomfort.
He’s afraid. I can’t imagine why but he’s afraid.
“We came for several reasons, Jarl Ulfric,” Dardeh said, smiling slightly as he used Ulfric’s title, giving him a tiny nod of respect for once. “The first and most important is that we wanted to tell you that Helgen is restored. Or at least mostly restored,” he said, grinning and running a hand up over his head and through his sausage-like coils of hair. “I expect that by the time we are there next there will be businesses reopening. The rubble has been cleared, at least, and buildings reconstructed. The unit you sent to serve as guard has done an admirable job.”
Ulfric tore his gaze away from Roggi to look at Dardeh. “That’s very good news. Helgen is vital to defenses along the southern border. Well done. But surely a messenger might have brought me this news.”
Dardeh nodded. “You’re correct, of course. We, uh…”
Roggi cleared his throat again. “Valerius is dead, Ulfric. The Thalmor were running a slavery ring right under our noses and we managed to stop it – but we lost him in the process. We came to tell you that. Your primary contact there at this point is going to be Marcus Jannus. He’s a good man.”
Ulfric took one step closer to Roggi.
“Again. This is good to know. And yet there is a reason you are here personally. What else are you not telling me?”
“I… need to…”
“Perhaps Dardeh and I should step out into the great hall and let the two of you speak privately,” Frina said, moving past her husband to give Roggi a brief hug. “I sense there are things that need to be said.”
Roggi’s eyes opened wide and flicked between Frina and Ulfric for a moment. “He told you, did he?”
Frina nodded.
“I’m sorry, Frina. I’m sorry I couldn’t say anything. I was too ashamed.”
Frina reached up to touch his cheek. “It’s nothing to apologize for. I’m glad now that I understand some of the things you were trying to tell me during the fighting. Things make a great deal more sense than they did.”
Roggi simply nodded.
Ulfric watched her touch Roggi, and then take Dardeh by the arm and lead him out of the map room. His heart danced in a way it seldom did. She was so poised, so much moreso than he could ever have imagined when he’d first met the breathless and awestruck girl who’d come to join the Stormcloaks. He smiled at the sight and quietly thanked Talos for his good fortune once again.
“Ulfric,” Roggi murmured.
I suppose it is time, isn’t it.
He turned to gaze into the blue eyes that had given him such joy for that brief period, and such heartache later.
“What is it, Roggi? Why did you come here?”
Roggi hesitated for a moment, looking from one eye to the other. Then he nodded and took a deep breath.
“I came to apologize, Ulfric. It has taken me all this time to realize that I have been making a mistake.”
“What sort of mistake?”
Roggi lifted his chin; proudly, in Ulfric’s estimation. Whatever has happened to him has been a long time coming and very difficult to reconcile.
“I have blamed you for everything that happened to me. For over a decade I’ve blamed you. And hated you. At least that’s what I told myself. You saw it. You saw it when you followed me to the dungeon. When I came to your wedding. Oh, I hated you, Ulfric.”
“With good reason.”
Roggi shook his head.
“No. Not a good reason. Not a good enough reason.” Roggi looked down at the floor and continued speaking, quietly. “You weren’t the one who killed my family. You weren’t the one who hid me away for a decade like a common drunk – that was me. I did that. I blamed you for everything. I’m sorry for that, and for all the years I fooled myself into not taking responsibility for my life. It took watching Valerius on his pyre to realize that, Ulfric. As I told Dardeh, Valerius couldn’t leave his hate behind and in the end it cost him his life. I need to put mine behind us. That’s why I’m here. I needed to tell you that I’m sorry.”
That must have taken everything he had to say. He’s still a remarkable man.
“You had ample reason to blame me for coercing you into my bed, Roggi. That was a foul bit of business. I haven’t a good excuse for that. Any excuse, really. I just saw that your woman was the easiest way to get to you, and…”
Roggi’s head snapped up. “What are you saying?”
It’s time. If he can come to me and apologize for something that has, after all, had so little effect on me, I can tell him what he needs to hear.
“I’m saying that I wanted you, Roggi. Not your wife, but you. Tell me that you knew that all along. You must have known it. It wouldn’t have lasted as long as it did otherwise. I would have used you and dismissed you back to your dungeon. It was you who caught me. You fascinated me, my friend. You still do. I … picked the wrong way to show you that. I tried to tell you I was sorry, at my wedding. I didn’t have the words then. Now I do. Now…”
He looked past Roggi, out the door to where Frina stood talking with Dardeh. She seemed relaxed enough, but when she glanced toward the doorway and saw him looking at her she flushed. He smiled at her.
It is fine, my love. All is well.
“Now, Roggi,” he continued, returning his attention to the Nord, “I have Frina. And I have something else to live for. You have the person you were meant to be with, as well. And, if you will still have me, I have you, and you me. As a friend. A much-beloved friend and valued advisor. I don’t deserve it but I do hope that it will be the case.”
Roggi started trembling again, to the point that Ulfric reached out to grasp his shoulders.
“What is it? Are you alright?”
Roggi nodded. “I never really hated you, Ulfric,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “The opposite, if anything. I realize that now isn’t the best moment to admit such a thing but there it is. But I hated realizing who I was and blamed you for it. Now,” he continued, a smile slowly creeping up on his face, “I find that I’m more than I remembered. I’m pretty proud of what I’ve managed to do recently. And I’m ready to leave the past in the past.”
Ulfric didn’t know what to say. All he could do was pull Roggi forward into an embrace and hold him, hoping that his emotions would be understandable through the touch.
I am sorry. I wish things had been different between us. We both ended up where we needed to be, in the long run. But you are still precious to me. Let us go forward from here.
___
Dardeh had been sneaking glances in toward Ulfric and Roggi the entire time he and Frina chit-chatted. His heart kept pounding with anxiety. She’d had to clear her throat to get his attention, several times in fact. Finally she patted him on the arm.
“What is it, Dardeh? Why are you so nervous?”
He hesitated for a moment. Frina shook her head and continued speaking.
“He told me all about it. I’m not happy about knowing they were a pair but it was a very long time ago now, Dardeh. A great deal has happened since then. Don’t you think it’s about time they cleared the air between them, after all?”
He smiled at her. In spite of their having had a less than stellar introduction to each other he had grown to admire Frina. She was nothing if not brave.
“Yes. That’s why I insisted that we come here. I guess I thought it might take a bit of time for them to work up to the conversation, though.”
She chuckled. “No, this has been just under the surface for a long time. They needed to deal with it.”
“But what if he leaves me?” How will I go on if somehow Roggi ends up with Ulfric again?
“He won’t leave you, Dardeh. How silly. And Ulfric won’t leave me.”
Dardeh looked back at the two men just as Ulfric pulled Roggi close. He hissed in alarm. He could almost feel that embrace. He wanted to run to them, tear Roggi away from Ulfric. He’s mine, Ulfric. Mine. You can’t have him!
Frina’s hand on his arm brought his attention back to her. She shook her head.
“Ulfric won’t leave me because he loves me. Just as Roggi loves you. Anyone can see that. And he won’t leave me because, well…” She ran her hand down over her stomach.
What? What are you saying? He was panic-stricken, and annoyed, and wanted the people around him to stop giving him metaphors and hints and just speak plainly. Then he looked at her again. His mind flashed back to watching Sayma cradle her stomach in much the same way.
“Are you…?” He pointed to her stomach.
She smiled and nodded. At the same moment, there was an exclamation from the map room; Dardeh looked up to see Roggi clapping Ulfric on the back, a huge smile on both their faces.
“By the Nine! Congratulations!” He pulled Frina into a quick hug and then released her just as quickly. “I hope I didn’t… hurt you?”
Frina laughed. “No. Not even close. Now, we haven’t told everyone yet but you two are family.”
“What’s this about family, lass?” a deep voice called as the huge doors to the main hall clanged shut.
“Brynjolf!” Frina said. “I’d heard you were on your way here. It’s good to see you again.”
Dardeh turned and nodded as the big redhead made his way toward them. He heard the sound of steps to his side and felt Roggi approach and take his hand.
“It’s fine now, Dar,” he whispered. “We’re going to be fine. Thank you for making me do this.”
Dardeh felt numb.
Well here we all are. The only one missing is Sayma. Let’s hope there’s no great ambush waiting to happen. We’d be sitting ducks.
“Glad I made it in time for the reunion,” Brynjolf said, gazing at them all with an amused expression. “Pleased to make your acquaintance officially, Jarl Ulfric. I’m Brynjolf of Riften.”
