Fandom A Trickle Of Magic [Skyrim~ Closed!]

[Reid]

Sybela Ashory wore what she considered the most ridiculous thing her mother has sent to be made for her just yet. It was a flimsy evening gown of the richest blue, with a high collar and frilly sleeves. The dress split somewhere down the middle of her chest, albeit not low enough to actually expose anything. (Her mother would have a fit) Yet the dress made her feel as if she were a grandmother. The fashion too outdated for the Era in which they lived, and the frills.... Sybela glared at them like they were the reason she was in this mess in the first place.

Baby-faced bards from the local College were perched in shadowy corners, heard but not seen. Sybela drifted from section to section, glancing around aimlessly while nursing a cup of wine from a passing waiter. This "Blue Palace" as it was called, really did not feel like a palace at all. It was small. One could even describe it as cramped. The architecture back home in Highrock boasted magnificent arches, vibrant tapestries stretching from wall to wall and, in some places, there were echos of the age old Daggerfall Covenant's deep blue lion emblem. Skyrim, in contrast, was extremely bland and freezing cold. Sybela grumbled the entire way. Wayrest never became this cold.

Standing by the far wall, the short Breton woman watched as her mother descended on the various party goers, introducing herself briefly and flying into conversation. The older woman was the spitting image of what Sybela would be looking at in the next 20 years, her long greying locks twisted in an elegant string of braids and her mostly untouched pale skin hinted at crow's feet. Her demeanor was lively, though firm. Sybela could already see how intimidated the other members of her conversation were, smiling and somewhat shrinking away from the elder Lady Ashory. Sybela chuckled lightly under her breath, content to watch this show for several minutes before pulling herself off the wall and making her way toward her mother.

"Mama, please. Do not be so forceful, we are guests here after all." She hooked a polite arm around the Lady Ashory's, coaxing her away from the others.
Esteine Ashory huffed, taking Sybela's wine cup from her and drowning it herself, "So much interest in this gods forsaken chilly wasteland...." She murmured this under her breath, "If it wasn't for your father's insistence, I would be setting you up with a nice young man from Wayrest. You'll have a beautiful view of the forests there, a house with a balcony. Here? It's just snow." She clicked her tongue and huffed, "Did some bored god choose to combine the temperament of beasts with man and create nords?"

Sybela cleared her throat, answering back between gritted teeth, "Mama. Stop."
Yet Esteine continued, chugging more of the wine, "Ridiculous. But alas.... It cannot be helped, trade is good here because of the war." She smiled knowingly and tapped her nose. Sybela was about to reply when a gust of wind swept through the hall. Their attention was momentarily diverted by the sound of a couple of palace servants nervously fluttering about like birds.
Sybela caught wind of words like right this way. The other Jarls have been expecting you, and other such pleasantries.
Esteine was still talking, pulling Sybela's attention back on her mother once more.

 

[nyanunix]

Jarl Skaskr - known in his hold, though never to his face, as Skaskr the Harsh - never arrived any earlier than "fashionably late". Others functioned on his time, not the other way around. At least, that's what he told himself. He believed firmly in dressing to your station, and thus, he preferred to be impeccably dressed. This occasion was no different. He wore a fine outfit, fur lined as all clothes should be in the frozen wasteland that was northern Skyrim. Falkreath, his holdings, were much more hospitable in temperature. How unfortunate that he was often called to Solitude. Despite his fine clothes, he wore no jewelry other than the silver circlet that denoted his position as a Jarl. Not that a commoner would be able to afford much fine clothes, anyway.

At least Solitude was small enough to walk around without becoming disheveled, and he didn't have to walk far to reach the palace, being quartered for the duration of his stay in the guest rooms of one of the Thanes, as most of the other Jarls were. Skaskr curled his lip in distain as he considered the Thanes of Solitude: they thought themselves so high and mighty, walled off in their prison of a city. What he wouldn't give to be home. Falkreath might not be the most impressive hold in terms of population, but his people were survivors through and through, each man, woman, and child a true Nord. And at home he could do interesting things, like hunt with his own Thanes. He was even expecting a visit from the Dragonborn sometime, though that likely wouldn't be within the next few seasons.

Skaskr shook his head to clear the thoughts of his home and reached up to adjust his hair, though it was so short as to make adjusting anything almost impossible. Though his hair was perhaps an inch long, he boasted a moderately impressive, mid-length beard, in the same honey-gold color. His eyebrows were again the same color, and quite thick, set over heavy-lidded brown eyes. His face was not a kind one, though he didn't appear outwardly unkind either.

He was lost in thought for most of the walk to the palace, though he avoided any other people. Anyone of any importance was likely already there, and the common rabble was likely hiding away in their homes or drinking themselves silly at the tavern. While he enjoyed a drink, as any proper Nord does, Skaskr also considered himself a man with dignity.

The servant standing by the palace doors jumped to attention upon seeing the Jarl. Skaskr sneered at him - he had seen the book that was hastily shoved into a breast pocket upon his arrival, and he would be sure to mention it to the steward later. Servants on duty should not engage in other activities; they were not being paid to read. The man opened the door for him and he walked through as though he owned the palace. Hardly a second passed before he was swarmed with people. Servants, trying to corral him to where the rest of the Jarls were, travelers, looking to see who was arriving so late, it seemed like the entire room was staring at him. After a few moments, however, the hum of conversation resumed and he allowed himself to be led to the knot of people where he could see the other Jarls, each holding a mug of mead or a cup of wine. The crowd parted around him like a school of fish around a shark, and an opening appeared in the circle. Now that he was closer, he could hear the conversation, though it was simply a small disagreement about exactly where the edge of someone's hold ended and the other's began. It didn't matter to him.

Skaskr lifted a tankard of mead from the tray of a passing serving girl and joined the circle, returning the various nods and greetings of the assembled Jarls. Not everyone was present - some who had not yet declared their loyalties where not there, nor were those who had decided to follow the traitor Ulfric. While he agreed with Ulfric on some points, he also considered him to be an honorless man, and thus unworthy of ruling over anyone.

"Nice of you to finally arrive," someone said, and he looked to see Elisif's housecarl. Skaskr raised an eyebrow.

"Unfortunately, I was held up by a personal matter," he answered, pointedly looking at the man, who did not seem to want to ask what exactly was so important as to make him late. He knew that many people here already considered Elisif to be the High Queen, but they all knew that nothing was decided until the Moot, and the Moot was going to have to wait until the war was over.

No one else seemed to want to question him, so he settled in for what would probably be a long and annoying conversation where ultimately nothing would be accomplished and everyone would leave angry. That's all that seemed to happen at these parties, anyway. Probing questions about loyalties and trade, petty arguments over hold boundaries, altercations caused inadvertently by attractive women. None of it really mattered. He tuned out of the conversation for a few moments to scan the crowd, but noticed little of interest before Idgrod nudged him. "Could you repeat the question?" he asked, not bothering to pretend to be embarrassed to be caught not listening.

Balgruuf huffed, but complied. "I was asking when you're going to get yourself a wife, Skaskr. Everyone knows you like to fool around, but it's common knowledge that when the Jarl is married, the hold prospers."

"I don't see how that's your business, Balgruuf," he scoffed. "You try finding a suitable wife these days. I can't marry just any tavern wench."

They went back and forth on the merits of marriage and whether or not it was actually beneficial for the hold, until the topic changed again and Skaskr once more checked out of the conversation.

 

[Reid]

"And to think... These people treat magic as if it is a bad thing. Pah!"

Sybela snatched the now empty wine cup from Esteine's hands, sensing danger. Her mother was not the best of drunks, and they, as foreigners in this land, did not need these nords to start something with them. Her arm tightened against the elder Lady Ashory's, leading her further away from the hustle and bustle of the party-proper. Her mother was still muttering, although thankfully she'd seemed to catch Sybela's quiet insistence on choosing her words carefully.

Contrary to most marriages, that of Esteine and Weylin Ashory was an odd one. Sybela knew that in the grand scheme of things, their name was not the most influential of Breton families. They were a small albeit elevated trading family, with few old political connections in Wayrest especially. Weylin, her father, seemed content on allowing Esteine to run the household, including his business while he himself preferred scholarly pursuits. This trait passed onto Sybela, including his magical talents. Although she herself was still in much need of practice in this regard. Esteine was not magically-inclined but Sybela knew that the elder Lady Ashory took great pride in the fact that her offspring was. Obviously, such things could not be boasted of here.

Chewing on her lip, Sybela moved her mother closer to her in order to whisper in her ear, "Mama, why did Papa decide to...?"

Esteine shot her a glare, "Your--"

Sybela waved her off. That excuse wasn't satisfactory and they both knew it. Actually, the younger woman almost felt offended that her no nonsense mother so much as tried this on her, of all people. Esteine shifted around uncomfortably, an emotion Sybela did not think was possible for her before she finally answered, "Weylin's been thinking of being more..." She made a rude gesture, rolling her eyes in a show of 'this is completely ridiculous', as she continued, "More proactive in the business. He thinks marrying you off to one of these--" Esteine swept her hand over the crowd, "people, might just benefit our little family."

Sybela clearly picked up on the vibe that her mother probably had, at one point, given her father a few choice words on the matter but it was not enough to sway her thoughts that Sybela was of an age that marriage (though arranged) would be on the table. Esteine turned toward her and ruffled Sybela's long braided brown hair, then proceeded to harshly pinch both of her cheeks, "Curse our Nedic ancestors and this blasted pallor. Look at you, you look like a corpse." She slapped Sybela's cheeks a few times and once she was satisfied, Esteine dragged her back to the main hall. The Breton thought that perhaps the Lady Ashory did not have anyone in mind while she was pulling her back into the hold of Nord high society (as she had been complaining that the place was full of old men not at all suitable for her precious daughter, and the married ones, some of whom chose to oogle at the servant women while their own wives weren't near). Yet, this proved not to be the case, as Sybela realized she was being pushed at the speed of an arrow toward the Jarl Elisif's burly House Carl that the two Bretons had briefly seen at the start of the party before he disappeared with his busy Jarl.
Sybela threw her mother wide-eyed looks, wondering what spirit suddenly chose to possess her at this moment when she spotted the frowning stranger beside him.

"Evening gentlemen." Esteine began, curtsying slightly. Sybela had no choice but to follow suit, as it would be odd if she did not do the same. Esteine inclined her head toward Balgruuf first, then curiously at the stranger close to the House Carl, "I have yet to introduce myself. We are foreigners to Skyrim, though we have heard much of Jarl Elisif since arriving in this land. My name is Esteine Ashory, this is my daughter, Sybela. We come from Highrock," She smiled, ever the diplomat, "My husband and I were thinking of setting up our business in Skyrim, knowing that it is in much demand. We were hoping that Jarl Elisif might be interested...." Here, Esteine trailed off, making a point to keep her attention on Balgruff. Sybela knew the game her mother was playing, and it made her feel somewhat ill at ease. It was politics of course, the act of acting coy. And Esteine was very good at that. Her hands caught Sybela's own, she sighed dramatically, patting her palm, "And we've heard much good in opportunities for marriage here as well. My husband and I are nearing our twilight years and hope that Sybela here would find herself a match worthy of our family name and business."

Esteine could win awards for her acting skills. Not too long ago, she had been denouncing these people as barbaric and uncouth and here she was, laying it on thick. Sybela tried to school her features, appearing aloof and unbothered. She returned the hand-squeeze, smiling lightly in Balgruuf's direction (following in her mother's footsteps) with an expression akin to well, what can I do?

nyanunix

 

[nyanunix]

As the knot of Jarls dispersed to mingle with the other partygoers, Skaskr found himself once more standing between Elisif's housecarl and Jarl Balgruuf. Generally speaking, this was not his favorite place to be. Balgruuf had all sorts of ideas about how to run a hold, and would often point out the success of Whiterun as proof that he knew what he was talking about. Like he had anything to do with it; Whiterun's prosperity was built on the fact that it was an important strategic location as well as a center for trade. A fool could run that city and it would be fine. He kept these thoughts to himself, however, and allowed the older man to ramble on about setting an example for his people through marrying a good woman and having children.

Meanwhile, his focus was on the crowd. There was fun to be had at these events, if you knew where to look. His eye was trained on the serving girl when he realized that two women were approaching.

They were clearly related, probably mother and daughter - his suspicion was confirmed when they introduced themselves. The daughter seemed uncomfortable in an obviously new but still out of fashion dress, but the mother looked as though she were perfectly happy and in her element. He did not bother with formalities.

"If you're interested in expanding your business to Skyrim, you'll need to speak with the Jarl of the hold you want to move to, not just Jarl Elisif," he began, thinking carefully about his words. "Solitude is a nice city, but there's already a lot of businesses here. Whether or not this is the city for you depends on what type of business you run."

"For instance, I am Jarl Skaskr, of Falkreath. It's a smaller hold. Jarl Balgruuf was actually just giving me advice on how to attract more businesses to the area, weren't you?" He finished his thought by roughly clapping Balgruuf on the shoulder, a facsimile of a friendly touch.

Balgruuf, however, just smiled. "It's nice to meet you ladies," he said. "I believe I was actually encouraging my friend here to find a good wife, himself - for the younger generation, these events are all about finding a match, whether or not they realize it." He gave Sybela a knowing look, and Skaskr internally fumed. That old bastard had just backed him into a corner - Sybela and her mother were there to find her a husband, and of course Balgruuf would find a way to mention that he wasn't married yet. And he was probably the only man present even remotely suitable as a marriage candidate, given that many of the men were either much older or already married off.

"I'm glad my own children aren't old enough yet to be worrying about finding husbands and wives yet," Balgruuf was saying. "Soon, though."

Skaskr tried very hard not to let his annoyance with the conversation show. Balgruuf - and possibly the other Jarls - wanted him to marry, for different reasons. He couldn't make excuses forever. Marrying into a business would give him even more wealth and opportunities - and at least this woman wasn't ugly. And if he got married, perhaps the other Jarls would get off of his back about being irresponsible, and he would be able to produce an heir. There were some benefits.

"Esteine, Sybela, allow me to introduce you to Jarl Elisif," Skaskr said, seemingly out of nowhere. "Her housecarl and steward are usually quite protective of her, considering her fragile state after the death of her husband, but if I'm introducing you there shouldn't be any problems."

 

[Reid]

Esteine blinked, and Sybela had the sneaking suspicion that she wanted to question what exactly was the difference between either of them but thankfully she had enough mind to not blurt out such an offending statement. The younger Breton woman pretended as if she hadn't noticed Balgruuf's look in her direction, noticing that the man seemed to be on the same train of thought as her mother. Esteine was nodding slowly, "Forgive me, we're still trying to understand your ways. Back home, things are a bit... Less chaotic."
As stable as a bunch of skirmishes could be... That was. Not that a bunch of nords would care for politics of a place so far from their own problems. And anyway, they were from Wayrest, the most stable and richest province at the moment.

"My daughter is twenty, well of marrying age." The elder Lady Ashory patted Sybela's shoulder, the gesture as much of a reassurance as it was a quiet warning to her to follow in her footsteps in this dance of politics.

"Oh?" Esteine descended on this piece of information like a vulture, pivoting toward the Jarl that had identified himself as Skaskr with a bright smile, "Why, thank you, Jarl Skaskr, how polite of you to offer such a thing." She did not seem in the least bit interested in finding Elisif, now that she had formed an idea in her mind. Sybela's fingers twitched, and she contemplated on whether or not she was willing to risk an invisibility spell in order to escape this party. She wasn't good at it, but if she was able to keep it casted long enough to jump out the window....

Coiling her arm around Esteine's, Sybela countered, "Mama, there is no need for this. Let us not bother these nice men here and--"

"Nonsense, dearest. Have you forgotten why your father sent you here in the first place?" Esteine chuckled, fluttering her hand dismissively, then turned back to the Jarls, "Forgive Sybela here. She's never been out of Wayrest much. Her father... He coddles her too much. And," She sighed, clearly amused, "We don't see many Nords back home. Even your women are very impressive."

It was getting difficult for Sybela to school her features at the sheer amount of flattery that was coming out of her mother's mouth like a torrent of arrows. It was embarrassing and she wanted it to end. The idea of arranged marriage did not bother the younger, grey-eyed Breton; such a thing was a fact of life for them. Gods, she didn't even care that her mother wanted to set her up with a nord to gain access to Skyrim. What bothered her was that Esteine was being hypocritical, albeit these Jarls didn't know her true thoughts on their culture. It was this conversation that Sybela did not quite like. She eyed the Jarl who introduced himself as the Jarl of Falkreath (As if she knew where said hold was), the one Esteine was giving all her attention to. He was younger than his peers, who were old enough to be Sybela's father. The younger Breton woman hastily gazed back at her mother. Trying to best communicate with her eyes only though her mother was not listening in the slightest.

 

[nyanunix]

Skaskr laughed at the idea of someone not understanding the organization of Skyrim, a booming noise that drew the attention of several people around them. "Well, allow me to explain," he began. "Skyrim is divided into nine holds of varying size. Each hold is controlled by a Jarl. Jarl Balgruuf here is the Jarl of Whiterun, which is a very centralized hold and therefore they get a lot of trade going through. Unfortunately, that will also make the city a prime target for Ulfric Stormcloak, when he stops posturing and makes a move." The younger man grinned, an almost predatory expression taking over his face. "My hold, Falkreath, is almost directly south of Whiterun, so we don't get as much trade, which is why I was hoping to bring a new business to the area . . . You know, you didn't mention what type of business you're looking to bring to Skyrim."

He could tell that the younger woman - Sybela - was rapidly growing more and more uncomfortable, and he was mildly torn between helping her and watching her try to find a way out of her situation. Her mother, however, seemed to have no interest in her daughter's unhappiness, and for just a moment, he felt a spark of pity in his chest.

"I'm only twenty five, which is actually quite young for a Jarl, and according to Balgruuf, too old to not be married," Skaskr replied evenly. "Though here, it isn't uncommon for people to marry even as young as seventeen. Even then, I'd say the bonds formed in Skyrim are very strong. When a dragon could attack tomorrow, you don't want to waste time. Perhaps, after my duties in the capital are done, you ladies would be interested in visiting Falkreath? Our natural sights are quite beautiful." Though the invitation was being extended to Esteine, as Sybele's mother and guardian, he was looking at the younger woman when he spoke. He did not miss the way she was appraising him as well.

Skaskr set his empty mug down on the tray of a passing serving girl and deftly plucked a glass of wine from the same tray. He hated politics, and that's what this was - far be it from him to want a marriage born out of love or even some semblance of care. No, perhaps Balgruuf was right, and it was his duty to marry for the benefit of his hold.

"Really, it's no bother at all," he said, addressing Sybele's anxious concern. "I'm quite enjoying the conversation. Tell me, Sybele, what do you think of Skyrim? Solitude is not a very good example of what the province really has to offer; I find it too cold and barren. I would be interested in hearing more about Highrock, as well."

He was not really interested, but the young Jarl knew it was only polite to ask, and for the moment, he had to be polite. Elisif wouldn't be happy with him if he caused a scene or offended her guests, and he didn't want to think about what would happen if she decided to pull the Imperial forces from Falkreath. He could be polite, for his people. Not that he cared too much about them - if he really cared, he would probably lower their taxes. His steward did most of the organizational work around the hold anyway, and it was his steward he would need to talk to about any potential marriage. She was an imposing Nord woman that followed his orders to the letter. His housecarl was, somewhat surprisingly, an orc from a nearby stronghold who had served in the Imperial Legion before leaving military service to protect the Jarl of Falkreath. He was currently engaged in conversation with a group of other bodyguards. No weapons were allowed inside the palace, so none of them were armed, but Gorbash didn't need weapons to protect his Jarl.

 

[Reid]

The pair also seemed rather shocked by the sudden laughter, something that at once broke the rather interesting picture this Jarl Skaskr initially painted in their minds. Sybela was the only one listening to the explanation in earnest. She knew the look on her mother's face well enough to understand that it was her polite diplomatic mask. Sybela couldn't help but find this man odd, but perhaps all nords were odd to her. She watched with the ease of which he plucked another glass of alcohol and did not seemed fazed by it. If she were to look around, she'll notice that his other kinsmen were of a similar nature, as if it had no effect on them.

Sybela, deep in her thoughts was at once caught off guard by the sudden turning of attention to her. Although, to her credit, she smoothly collected herself and smiled with a short inclination of her head, "Natural sights?" She echoed, "I hope these natural sights aren't an extension of pine trees smothered in snow." The young Breton woman appeared almost like a less brash version of her mother at this moment but on the inside, she truly did not feel as bold as she was making herself out to be. Yet, alas, was that not what everyone else in the room was doing? Showing an ideal image of themselves that was not weak. Because Sybela did not want to seem frail... Of course, not that she was but Nords tended to fill up a room like bears and it was a sight to behold to Sybela who was used to the smaller statures and subdued presence of her people, traits inherited from their Aldmeri ancestors.

Esteine preened slightly, approving of Sybela taking the reins from her in answering questions (after all, the whole reason they were here was because of Sybela). She hummed thoughtfully, "Skyrim.... Feels truly exotic compared to my homeland, I'll admit. I needn't mention the cold or snow, but your stories...." Sybela chuckled, "Intrigue me. Tell me, Jarl Skaskr, do your people really have bodies that still roam their tombs with glowing eyes?"

The look of approval on Esteine's face melted as quickly as a candle near intense heat and she sputtered, "Sybela!" Before glancing at the group of men sheepishly, "Please excuse her, she has been reading one too many books since we've arrived here--"

Sybela interrupted her, "Well, mother, if I am to be married to a man of Skyrim, should I not read about the place that I would have to spend the rest of my days in?" Oh, this was rude and so unlike her but Sybela was growing tired of being pulled to and fro at Esteine's whim and if that meant giving her the same sensation the younger Breton felt just moments prior.... So be it.

She returned her grey-eyed gaze back to Skaskr, "Mother and I would be glad to explain the nature of our family's business if it pleases you. And I'm sure that my dear sweet mama here would love to visit your Hold that you so graciously invited us to see." Her lips quirked upward. Sybela felt proud of herself then even if she hadn't the faintest clue where the unexpected courage crawled out from.

 

[nyanunix]

The Jarl was almost shocked that this seemingly shy woman had sharp tongue, but it only made him smile slightly. "Falkreath, being further south, is actually quite temperate this time of year. It is a mostly mountainous region, with the actual town situated close to a lake. Much more hospitable than the north, in my opinion. Of course, I wouldn't be much of a Jarl if I didn't boast about my lands and people," Skaskr genuinely loved his holdings. The area was, in his opinion, one of the most beautiful areas of Skyrim.

He watched how Sybela seemed to become more at ease with her surroundings and wondered if it was the natural result of becoming more engaged with the conversation, or if it were a forced sense of calm. Either way, he was gaining some insight into her personality. At least he knew that his own appearance of comfort was real. Balgruuf, at this point, was less interested in the conversation now that he had gotten what he wanted, and quickly left with hurried goodbyes.

As her daughter became more interested in asking questions, Esteine became visibly self-satisfied - until the topic of draugr was brought up. "It's okay, Esteine. I expect a woman who will one day run her family's business to be well read. Most women in Skyrim know how to read and write," Skaskr explained. "Yes, those stories are based in truth. Draugr, they're called. They seek to defend their resting places from would-be grave robbers, or so we believe. I've also heard tales from adventurers saying that in certain dark corners of the world, magically reanimated skeletons lurk." He hoped that the brief bit was enough to satisfy her curiosity on the subject, as to avoid her realizing that he had never actually seen a draugr himself. In Falkreath, the main dangers were from bandits or bears and wolves, not the undead.

He looked as Sybela approvingly as she entirely derailed her mother, though he was admittedly somewhat confused. They seemed to want the same thing - to explore the idea of a union between them - so it didn't really make sense to him that they also seemed to be at odds. Women, he thought, were sometimes quite complicated. Having grown up with no sisters, he was not privy to their inner workings.

"I'm glad to hear it, then," Skaskr said, schooling his expression back into polite neutrality. "I would be happy to explain anything else you need or want to know about Skyrim. If you have no other plans in Solitude, we could be in Falkreath as soon as the day after tomorrow, and I can send word ahead to my steward to have rooms ready for your use."

 

[Reid]

Sybela had little interest in the geography of Skyrim. Most of the books she acquired in Highrock before setting off and in the few shops around Skyrim once they arrived were books full of fantastical tales of its history and background. The particular one she alluded to was Amongst The Draugr, by a mage from the only institution of magic in Skyrim (An idea that startled Sybela, who grew up seeing students of the Mage's Guild back home mingle freely. Truly, these Nords were an odd bunch).

The two Breton women hung around for a bit longer after breaking away from the cluster of Jarls, having said their goodbyes. Esteine was still half-heartedly engaging with others but it it was clear where her thoughts lay. As the sun lowered in the sky, Sybela had her arm around her mother's while the elder Ashory lightly fanned herself with one of her painted fans edged with gold illustrations on the handle. Her steps were unhurried, heeled shoes clapping against the stone street of Solitude as they made their way out of the Blue Palace proper.
She chattered away, "I for sure believed that this endeavor would end empy-handed. I mean, really--" Esteine gestured as if to say you know what I mean?
"But this Jarl," She clicked her tongue, tapping her fan against Sybela's arm, chuckling, "Not too old, for one thing. The Gods strike me down if I dared marry my only daughter to a man twice her age! Secondly, from what I understand, being in possession of a Hold means some measure of influence. And it is best if go this route if we wish for the business to flourish..."

Sybela walked her mother down the narrow street. For their stay, they'd rented a house further down the Blue Palace rather than risk the rowdy inn. Playing with the end of her frilly sleeves, she hummed in response to Esteine's words as she brought out the keys and climbed up the steps. Indeed, it did serve them best if they had a backing of a marriage before introducing their business. Especially in Skyrim, where Nords distrusted all manner of magic, even though to a Breton, it was as natural as breathing.

The next day, Sybela came downstairs upon waking, watching her mother compose a letter in her tiny spidery script, addressed to the Jarl of Falkreath:

Jarl Skaskr,
In regards to your gracious invitation of the night previous, I am writing this
letter to bring it to your attention that Sybela and myself have chosen to accept.
It is my greatest wish that during this time we shall all discuss how best to proceed.
As well as allow my daughter and yourself a chance to further make polite
conversation that due to the nature of the Solitude get together was not possible.
We shall set out tomorrow. Hopefully this letter reaches you before then.

~Lady Esteine Ashory

​

The letter was sealed and given to a passing courier when the two women made their way out of the rented house. That day was spent in the local tailor's shop; Esteine sitting regally on a nearby seat as she fanned herself and Sybela standing on a shortly raised dais having a chatty Bosmer woman poking and prodding at her. By the end of the day, the young Breton's arms and legs were begging for mercy. However, she was also silently thankful to the Bosmeri woman who insisted on a more modern Nordic style of dress rather than conform to her mother's horrific sense of style of her own youth. After a short meal, the two headed off to bed. The next morning was a rather hectic one. Sybela pulled on her new dress, it was fitted to her measurements perfectly. The sleeves were long and loose on her arms, the ends of it lined in blue. The collar was low, hugging her neck. Down the middle, buttons shaped like small silver butterflies while the dress itself was a deep sea-green. In the mirror, the Breton woman decided to forgo the braids that she had in the party and let her brown hair remain down. In the box in which the tailor wrapped her clothes was a fur-lined coat, the fabric other than the fur was a mossy green. Sybela shrugged it on as well. She was not used to coats, but Skyrim's cold weather would force her to become acquainted with such climates soon enough.
The two broke their fast in silence, eating quickly seeing as Esteine had paid for a horse cart driver to meet them at the rented home that morning to bring them to Falkreath.
Bound in leather straps, Sybela brought with her a few books in order to entertain herself. And thus, they were on their way.

 

[nyanunix]

Jarl Skaskr left the party a little earlier than he might normally have, and chose to immediately begin the ride home, as he was growing annoyed with the city. It was perhaps a little over a day's ride, which he knew would mean they were forced to camp outside the city, but he was confident that he would be able to defend himself in the event of an attack. He and his housecarl, Gorbash, rode for a few hours before the Jarl grew tired from the events of the day and decided it was time to put down bedrolls and sleep for the night.

They set up camp about a third of the way to Falkreath, in an area that was passingly familiar. It looked like some bandits had been holed up in the crumbling tower, but judging by a few suspicious stains, they were no longer in residence, likely due to having been wiped out. He admittedly wasn't sure which hold they were in, but it didn't really matter. Every Jarl would pay an adventurer to take down a small group of bandits. Bedrolls were laid out and a fire was started to ward off the chill in the air. Even further south, nights would get cold, and he didn't care to wake up stiff and aching.

Gorbash talked for a while about what he had gotten up to at the party, making jokes about Sybela and her mother, and Skaskr laughed and felt the most at ease he had in a long time. The open air of the countryside did that to him, and not for the first time he considered giving up being a Jarl and taking up the life of a hunter. However, the thought was soon dispelled, as he considered that he liked this current lifestyle a lot, and if he left, he wouldn't be able to keep with his expenses. Camping was nice, but he didn't want to do it every night.

Soon, the night was over, and when dawn came, he and his housecarl were rolling up their temporary beds and mounting their horses. Falkreath, home, was just a few hours away.

---
​

They reached home just after midday and set about unpacking the things he'd brought back from Solitude. Gorbash gossiped with the guards about the current events in the capital and Skaskr settled into his throne and filled in his steward, Freyid, on what had happened, what he'd talked to the other Jarls about, that he still stood firmly on the side of the Imperials in this civil war. He had only just finished dinner when he received a letter in an elegant script he didn't recognize. A quick scan showed that his potential wife and her mother would be visiting to continue discussions on their union.

Naturally, he decided to set up their accommodations the next morning, as it was already quite late at night.

The sun rose over Falkreath once more, as it did every morning, and as its Jarl woke, he rolled out of bed and to his feet. Someone was knocking on his bedroom door already, never a good sign, and he threw on some clothes, vowing to change later before Sybela arrived. He needed to make a good impression on her and her mother. Freyid was waiting outside his door to tell him that a farmer had been attacked by a werewolf in the night as he went outside to relieve himself, a man that lived alone some ways outside of the town. Somehow, he'd survived, but the werewolf was still out there, so they would need to watch closely for strangers and perhaps send out more guards.

Soon, though, he was able to talk Freyid into commandeering two rooms from the inn for his guests, though he also asked her to set up the guest room in his longhouse, in case they would rather stay there. Unfortunately, the guest room only had one bed, and he wasn't sure of the customs that the women abided by regarding sharing a bed with family members. He also wasn't sure how comfortable they would be staying at an inn, however, and there wasn't enough time to send a courier to ask what they'd prefer.

The day passed quickly, with the injured farmer being tended to by the court wizard, and he finally was able to change his clothes to something a little more presentable. Sybela and Esteine would likely be arriving soon, though coming by carriage it would be a little slower than horseback.