How Fragile the Forging

Chapter 9

The Dragonborn returned to Honeyside. Finding it empty, she dropped off her pack and headed for the Scorched Hammer. The sight of the forge was always bittersweet.

Asbjorn and Svana were elated to see the Breton home once again. The Far-Shield maiden gushed over Alyssa's large belly as the Fire-Tamer pulled out a chair for her. The Dragonborn spoke of her journey, leaving out the intimate dream. The two Nords were shocked to say the least. Svana was speechless while Asbjorn seemed to calculate. When he spoke, it was with slight awe.

"Alyssa… wouldn't that make you-"

"I know where your mind has lead you, Fire-Tamer, but let me be clear. Cyrodiil has its emperor. Only a few have this knowledge, including the both of you, and I intend to keep it that way."

"But all that you could have…" Svana chimed in, trailing off.

"… would not be worth the price I would have to pay." Alyssa stated quietly. History had proven time and again that ruling the provinces could be deadly. Assassinations, wars, uprisings. That was not the life she wanted for herself, let alone her child. Still, it was comforting to know who she was after all this time.

The young couple discussed all the happenings of Skyrim in great detail. Ulfric Stormcloak had begun the war in earnest. It was only a matter of time before he sought to take back Riften from the Imperials. Alyssa frowned. She knew this day would come. Those men were too impulsive and selfish to realize the harm that they would cause. She just hoped that the lesser of two evils would prevail.

"My friends… It is no longer safe here. And with a child on the way, I cannot risk the impending violence."

Svana looked at Asbjorn, who stared at Alyssa incredulously. "You are leaving?"

"I must." The Breton said softly. She didn't want to go. She had made her home here, a family here. But the danger was too great.

"Where will you go?" Svana asked, her lip trembling slightly.

"I think I shall return to High Rock. For whatever reason, my homeland usually seems to be at peace." Wayrest had been seized by merchant raiders when she was thirteen, but had since been reclaimed. It would be good to see those familiar walls, though she would always miss the hazy city of Riften.

The tavern woman nodded, wiping her eyes. She hated to see her best friend go so far away, but understood her reasoning.

"You… you both could come with me?" Alyssa asked, a little hope in her voice. She loved the couple dearly. She was not surprised when Asbjorn shook his head.

"Our home is here. We must be ready to defend Riften. Though the offer is tempting, sister."

The Dragonborn smiled. She would miss them dearly, but understood. Had it not been for fear of her child, she would take up the same fight. She embraced them both lovingly.

"Perhaps one day I can return. I promise to write you often!"

"You had better. After all, your child has to marry mine!" Svana giggled. Surprised, the Breton embraced the Far-Shield maiden tighter. "Congratulations!"

Asbjorn rubbed the back of his head anxiously. He looked at his wife. "What if we both have sons?"

"If at first you don't succeed…" Alyssa wagged her eyebrows suggestively, trying to lighten the mood.

Asbjorn considered for a moment, then tentatively spoke. "You know, Alyssa. It… might not be a bad idea for you to consider the same."

The Dragonborn looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"You could… find another. To love you. And you, him."

Alyssa looked taken aback by this. The Fire-Tamer continued hurriedly. "It is no disrespect to Balimund. I know how much you loved one another. But… raising a bairn on your own will be difficult. And I am sure that there is someone out there who would jump at the chance to be with you."

The Dragonborn's expression softened in understanding. She smiled at the Nord man reassuringly. "Asbjorn, I appreciate your concern, but you must understand. My heart belongs to Balimund, even in death." She paused, considering her words. "I do not fear being on my own. My family matron was able to do it, and so must I."

Asbjorn nodded. He was not surprised. He had never come across a love quite as potent as Alyssa and Balimund's… well, his own withstanding.

Svana embraced Alyssa once again. "I will miss you, sister."

"And I, you. Both of you."

Two months later…

Alyssa was attempting to look into the cooking pot over her enormous stomach. Well, if she couldn't see it, at least the smells indicated it was almost ready. She kept her back stiff as she stirred. Her body had been so achy. Sleep was difficult now, and yesterday a dull pain in her abdomen kept coming and going. It was uncomfortable, but didn't bother her.

Alyssa had settled in to Wayrest easily. No one knew her here anymore, so she didn't have to conceal her identity beyond being the Dragonborn. She had taken a position as cook at the local inn. Unbeknownst to her, a noblewoman had been dining one night and had raved to her husband about the wonderful dishes. The next day, the young Breton was petitioned to serve the royal family.

Alyssa accepted, not wishing to raise her little one in the raucous of a tavern. Lady Veraina was an unassuming, genteel woman, and her husband Phannis lived to please her. They were a sweet couple, and the Dragonborn was pleased to serve them.

She thought of her other home often. Svana had been keeping her up to date on Skyrim. It seems Ulfric had taken the upper hand and claimed Whiterun. The Dragonborn had worried about her former housecarl-turned-Thane, but a letter from Lydia shortly after had put her fears to rest.

Alyssa was saddened by the news of Balgruuf's fall. He was a decent man, albeit a little queasy at the sight of conflict. She prayed that The Empire would persevere. A High King Ulfric would lead to Skyrim's demise at the hands of the Thalmor.

Hefting the pot onto the nearest table, Alyssa was ladling its contents for supper when she clutched her stomach. Hunched over, she cried out in pain and surprise. Yvaanne had been walking past the kitchen to collect the rugs for beating and heard the young woman cry out. Dropping her items, she rushed to Alyssa's aid. "Child, what is it?"

The Dragonborn tried to look at the white-haired Breton, but couldn't see through her tears. "It h-hurts…!"

Ynaavve called out to another maid. She sent her off to fetch the midwife, then carefully led Alyssa towards the door. Lady Veraina, alarmed by the commotion, entered the kitchen. "What is wrong?"

"The babe comes, My Lady." The older Breton maid explained. "I have called for the midwife, and am taking Miss Wulfe home." Said woman cried out in pain, another contraction hitting her hard.

The bewildered Lady of the House soon regained composure. "Nonsense. Take her to the guest chambers. I will intercept the midwife and bring her here."

Alyssa shook her head, panting. "M-My Lady… I cou-couldn't-"

"Hush, I'll not take 'no' for an answer. You are in no condition to travel. It seems that babe is in a hurry to greet you." With that, Veraina exited the kitchen in pursuit of the younger maid.

"That's it, dear. Push… push!"

The midwife was standing at the foot of the bed in the guest bedroom, hands on the knees of a sweating and exhausted Dragonborn. Alyssa had been quickly changed into a light shift before Gwynille had arrived to help in the delivery. Lady Veraina stayed on, bringing anything the midwife asked for. She wanted desperately to be of help to the widowed girl. No doubt it was hard enough to bring a child into this world; to be alone while doing so was devastating.

Alyssa's eyes were shut tight, gritting her teeth as she felt immense pressure from her womb. Her auburn hair was matted to her head and sides of her face from sweat.

And she thought fighting the World-Eater had been painful? Gods, she would have laughed if she wasn't so tired.

"Come on, Alyssa. You can do this. Push!" The noblewoman kneeled beside the younger Breton, speaking encouragingly. "Let's get that babe in your arms…"

The Dragonborn looked down at her Lady. This woman was wonderful. Nodding, Alyssa bore down, her limbs shaking from the effort.

"That's it… the babe is crowning!" The midwife exclaimed.

Alyssa gasped, the pain almost too much. The babe was big; bigger than her body might be able to handle. She rallied herself. No. She had to get through this. She would not leave this child alone in the world.

Finding a small reserve of strength, she pushed down hard, tears escaping her tightly-shut eyes as she bellowed in agony.

"Very good, dear… almost there…keep pushing!" Gwynille's hands had moved from Alyssa's knees to the ready position. Lady Veraina watched with bated breath.

…..

Alyssa's loud cry was replaced with a very tiny one.

"It's a boy!" The midwife cheered. Alyssa collapsed on the bed, gasping for air with effort.

Gwynille immediately tended the babe and wrapped him in a small sheet. The Lady of the House released her breath, smiling.

"He's beautiful, Alyssa. Congratulations."

The midwife cradled the babe. She came up to Alyssa, smiling. "He is very healthy-looking. You did very well."

Alyssa propped herself up, staring at the white bundle. He had grown quiet since entering the world.

Gwynille smiled warmly. "Would you like to meet your son?"

Alyssa nodded mutely, eyes wide. She opened her arms to receive him.

He was perfect. A good size, with wisps of blond hair and rosy cheeks. His eyes were closed, but she didn't need to see them to know he looked just like Balimund.

"Hello, Little One…" Alyssa whispered in awe.

His eyes fluttered open, seeming to recognize her voice. His eyes were a piercing icy blue, with a dusky ring around the irises. The Dragonborn kissed her son's forehead. In that moment, something had changed in her. Alyssa wasn't sure what it was; all she knew was that she would go to Oblivion and back to protect him.

"What is his name?" Lady Veraina asked softly, standing to look at the boy better.

Alyssa's eyes never left her son's. "Martin… his name is Martin."

The Lady's eyebrows rose. This babe was clearly fathered by a Nord, yet the young Breton woman had chosen an Imperial name? "Any reason for it?"

"It is a family name." Alyssa said, smiling. She cuddled little Martin closer to her, reveling in his beauty. This boy would be strong, kind and smart. Just like his father.

'I wish you were here, Bal. You would love him.' She thought, eyes brimming with tears.

Something warm ghosted across her cheek. It felt like sunshine.

Thank you for reading my story. If you have enjoyed this, please be sure to look out for my next story about Aliana/Lysara and Martin Septim.

Once again, correspondence is always welcome.