A/N: There were some final little plot ends that couldn't quite fit in the main story. I make no apologies for telling rather than showing. But this is what followed once Elisif had finished waving to her adoring public.

There is little to be told after that. The ceremony in the Temple of Divines was something of an anticlimax after the howling welcome the citizens of Solitude had given their new High Queen. But Elisif didn't mind. She liked the ritual, the swearing of the sacred vows to protect Skyrim and its people, the presentation of the ring, oh and the ritual crowning, involving the actual Jagged Crown, really hers now and let no one take it from her!

The obligatory speech, mercifully short, but she did announce that her first official act would be to ratify the Windhelm Accord that would formally establish the Reach as an independent Imperial Province... and that while this wasn't a treaty provision, discussions behind the scenes had convinced her the best way of ensuring ongoing friendly relations with the new kingdom would be for the High Queen to wed the new Reach-King and so she was taking Madanach of the Reach as her husband.

The Temple hadn't known how to react to that... until in the third row back, Kodlak Whitemane and the rest of the Companions, including Cicero and Eola, all up in Solitude to see their honorary Shield-Sister Mooted, had all risen to their feet and started applauding, and then Argis had joined them, grabbing Farkas and making him do the same and glaring at the rest of the Solitude Court until they did likewise, and then slowly the applause had spread out across the entire Temple.

And then it was all back to the Bards' College for a party, the rediscovered Tale of Olaf One-Eye and the first ever burning of his effigy where an actual dragon had leaned down from the roof and started the fire. And then Elisif found out what had happened to her discarded Amulet of Mara as Argis had quietly asked Lucia if she had those things he'd told her to look after, and Lucia had produced her little purple satchel with the flowers embroidered on it and retrieved from it one small box and a golden necklace, which she handed over to Argis. Argis had thanked her, donned the necklace and told her to go track her pa down.

Said father was enjoying a pint and a catch-up with Kodlak and Vilkas, who'd decided Farkas needed checking in on and the Moot wouldn't be a proper Moot without mead drunk and songs sung and Solitude was too formal a city to know how to do these things properly, so the whole of Jorrvaskr had turned up to help out.

A good thing indeed, because that meant they got to witness the Steward of Solitude coughing nervously, waiting for Farkas to notice the Amulet of Mara, then announcing that seeing as they had a child together, they couldn't keep on embarrassing the High Queen by openly living in sin in her palace, and Steward's Husband sounded a lot better a title than Steward's Bedwarmer. Then he'd gone down on one knee and presented the ring and quietly added that he loved Farkas dearly and could he possibly spend the rest of his life with him?

Farkas had stared for what felt like hours until Vilkas had nudged him in the side and told him to say something, idiot, your boyfriend just proposed.

"You mean it?" Farkas had whispered. "Really?"

Argis nodded. "Really."

Farkas had glanced at Lucia to see what she thought of all this, and saw his little girl gazing hopefully up at him, and that was what decided him in the end. Not that he wouldn't have said yes anyway, but knowing his daughter approved sealed the bargain.

"All right then," Farkas had said gruffly, wiping a tear away as he realised Argis really did love him and really did want him around, even if he was just a half-educated mercenary and not a courtier or political type or anything. Argis would later tell him that was the point, he had enough of politics from his father. But right now, Argis and Farkas were kissing, Lucia was squealing in delight and then it was congratulations all round from an emotional Kodlak and Vilkas congratulating one groom and then warning the other he'd better be a good husband, and then High Queen and Reach-King arriving to do the same thing for Argis, and Sofie and Lucia being promised they could be flower-girls, and Aventus being promised he would never be required to bear flowers at any wedding ever, not even his father's, and then Cicero and Eola arrived to offer their own best wishes, largely involving Eola patting her brother on the back and congratulating him while Cicero squealed and bounced and fawned over Farkas. Somehow Cicero and Farkas had managed to become quite good friends, with Cicero cuddling Farkas and cooing over him and Farkas not minding one bit. It was nice to have someone around who'd never called him ice-brain and would often trill that Farkas should not worry if he was not intellectually gifted, humble Cicero wasn't very bright either and it had never done him any harm. Farkas suspected Cicero was a lot smarter than he let on but he didn't object.

Siddgeir turned out to be less of a problem than anticipated, due largely to rather recklessly riding home from Solitude with just his housecarl and the night closing in. That route had long been dangerous for travellers with lots of unexplained attacks at night... and when Siddgeir didn't return to Falkreath and a panicked Nenya sent word to Solitude demanding an explanation, Elisif had no choice but to investigate.

The blood trail led to a nearby cave across the river, and they found Helvard's body just outside. A joint ReachGuard/Haafingar Guard party eventually found Siddgeir's remains in a captive pen deep inside a Falmer hive. He'd dashed his own brains out on a rock rather than submit to whatever they'd had in store – given they'd already carved bits off him and even the ReachGuard weren't sure if it had been before or after he'd died, Elisif didn't blame him. And so there'd been a burial with honour, Elisif finding it in her to be magnanimous now he was safely dead, and now she needed to find Falkreath a new Jarl.

Her choice had not pleased her husband to be. Or her steward.

"Him? Right next door to my lands? That used to be his lands?" Madanach roared. "Are you serious?"

"Yes," Elisif said firmly. "Honestly, Madanach, this is Falkreath, the place is tiny, he's not going to be able to raise an army to take the Reach over."

"What if he finds necromancers willing to raise the dead in Falkreath's cemetery?" Madanach snapped back. "An undead army of Nord warriors is all I need!"

"He's a Nord!" Elisif cried. "Nords don't hire necromancers to fight their battles, they're not you!"

"She has a point," Delphine smirked from the shadows. They were gathered in Castle Dour's banquet hall to have this particular discussion, the place having rather more private meeting rooms than the Blue Palace did. Lydia was watching the door, Delphine was leaning up against the wall near the bridge exit, and Elisif was facing off against her own husband, the newly-enthroned Reach-King, with Argis at the head of the table looking like he was getting a headache.

"I didn't ask you," Madanach snapped, but Delphine, used to Madanach's tirades by this point, just shrugged.

"I work for Elisif, not you. And I can tell you that Igmund, were he to be put in charge of Falkreath, wouldn't have the resources for war. He doesn't have the men, he needs his High Queen's permission to approach the other Jarls for aid against foreign powers, and he doesn't have the coin to hire mercenaries to carry out covert harassment. I can make sure my people are watching in any case. If he tries anything, we'll find out. And then he gets the joy of an irate High Queen hero demanding to know why he's troubling her husband's land."

"He still thinks it's his by right," Argis sighed. "Be hard to talk him out of it. Oh and don't forget, Da killed his father. Personally. Head on a spike for ages. Think it only came down when Ulfric took the place over."

Elisif hadn't heard that particular bit of information before, only that Hrolfdir had been killed by the Forsworn. She'd not known Madanach had actually been the one to do it, and the slightly shamefaced demeanour he'd just gained confirmed it.

"Goodness' sake, Madanach, you are not making this easy for me!" Elisif sighed.

"Good!" Madanach snapped. "I don't want it easy, I want someone else over there. Someone Reach-friendly! Are you sure Nenya can't be Jarl, she's doing well looking after the place!"

"No!" Elisif hissed. "She's an Altmer, I can't put one of them in charge of a Hold! Everyone will think I'm putting a Thalmor stooge in place! Also they live for centuries and take decades to have and raise kids, having them rule humans just doesn't work logistically."

Madanach muttered under his breath before sinking into a chair.

"Are you sure there's no one else," he sighed. "No one in Falkreath with a bit of education and a brain who'll do? What about Dengeir? He's still alive."

"His paranoia is getting worse, and what's more he's a Stormcloak," Delphine told him, shaking her head. "He's already insistent the Empire are ruining Skyrim and that the Thalmor are behind everything. He's one of the people already insisting Nenya's a Thalmor agent – she isn't, by the way. He'll never agree to serve you as Jarl. More likely he'll start fomenting rebellion, and there's those who might agree. Not everyone's in favour of the Reachman settlements in Windhelm and Winterhold, you know. Kraldar and Brunwulf will not thank you if their Holds start rebelling and decide to unseat both Jarls and put Korir in charge of both."

"Those are peaceful settlements," Madanach protested. "Witchmist Village is nothing but a spa resort and vineyard, producing among other things some interesting alchemical remedies and that jazbay liqueur you like, Elisif."

The same jazbay liqueur that if taken in quantity could induce hallucinations and had once had Cicero staggering in to her bedroom at night swearing purple dragons were eating her curtains, yes, Elisif knew it all too well. All the same, it was cutting down bar fights all over Skyrim, due to people being either too mellow or too comatose to hit anything, so she supposed it was worth the trouble. As was Saarthal – now the Eye of Magnus and the Draugr were gone, it was starting to thrive again as a joint Nord-Reachman community. The Nords got to restore the halls of their ancestors, the former Eye chamber was now home to a permanent teleportal point connecting the place with Markarth and the College, and the combination of Reach raw materials, Nord smiths and College/Reachkin wizardry was leading to a boom in arcane manufactured goods, and not just weapons either. Coin was being made and the tax revenues were high and the people who lived in Saarthal seemed happy. But Elisif could also see resentment lurking beneath all that too, and the last thing anyone needed was another war.

"But Riften is stable and so is the Pale, and Balgruuf's reported no trouble in Whiterun," Elisif said thoughtfully. "Even Vignar Grey-Mane's accepted the situation, although Eola tells me he won't stop complaining. She also says that's all he's minded to do though. We're in no immediate danger of a rebellion... but Delphine is right, Madanach, I can't offer a Jarldom to a man who's repeatedly stated the Empire intends to enslave us all and that Skyrim's Dragonborn Hero has sold her country out. But I can be magnanimous towards a man exiled and stripped of his Hold on my account."

"His incompetence got you jailed!" Madanach snapped.

"Where I met you, so it's not turned out too badly, has it?" Elisif sternly told him... and that did turn out to be the key to calming him down. Madanach looked away, laughed to himself, and smiled ruefully.

"I suppose not," he admitted. "Fine but he renounces any and all claim to the Reach on behalf of himself and any descendants he has."

"I can make that a condition," Elisif said, starting to smile. "Although I'm afraid you're probably going to have to pay him weregild for his father's death. Not for his Hold, the Empire took that off him and justly so. But coin for his kin – Madanach, you do owe him for that."

Madanach scowled, but assented. "I suppose. Some coin, a trade deal of some sort to show no hard feelings – oh and I think Keirine's still got his family shield somewhere. Nice piece of kit, that. Still got the old green and gold rams horns emblem on it – those are collectors' items now, you know. I'll get her to enchant it somehow, ceremonially hand it over, sorry for killing your da and all, here's his shield."

It might just work. Maybe. Particularly as Raerek had died in exile over the winter, which meant Nenya would likely remain steward. Elisif just had one last point to make, and so she turned to Delphine.

"Delphine, tell Madanach what you found out about his court mage."

"What, Calcelmo?" Madanach scratched his head, frowning at this. "What's he got to do with this? He doesn't care about anything unless it's got cogs and gears."

Elisif just smiled and indicated for Delphine to speak.

"Well, it turns out that's not true," Delphine smirked. "Turns out he also quite likes pretty Redguard former housecarls, namely Igmund's super-loyal bodyguard Faleen. My people were able to find out he's got quite the thing for her. Misses her horribly apparently. So we did a little digging and were able to find out Faleen has a real weakness for poetry, and so Brynjolf wrote a deeply passionate and poetic love letter on Calcelmo's behalf to give to her, and now she's quite keen to return and speak to him. She won't leave Igmund but she did give us a letter for Calcelmo inviting him to come see her. We haven't delivered it yet... but if she was to find herself returning to Skyrim as the housecarl of the new Jarl of the Hold next door to Calcelmo's, we'd be happy to pass it on to him. Faleen and Calcelmo hook up, Faleen persuades Igmund to leave the Reach alone because her boyfriend lives there, diplomacy gets that bit smoother and everyone's happy."

Elisif turned back to Madanach triumphantly to see his reaction. He clearly hadn't expected that... but it clearly had had the desired effect.

"That's... actually really sweet. Who would have thought it? Old Calcelmo with a crush," Madanach grinned. "All right, Dibella forbid I make my court mage miserable. I suppose it could be worse."

And so Igmund was invited to Solitude with Faleen, where Elisif offered him Falkreath on condition he kept the existing steward on as she was an Altmer in her fourth century who worshipped Julianos, god of magic and wisdom, and who knew what she was doing, whereas his late uncle had clearly made a few, shall we say, misguided errors of judgement while serving under Igmund. Such as allowing the true High Queen of Skyrim to get unlawfully arrested in his city. Which fact, repeated often and angrily enough with the implication he was lucky she was even talking to him and indeed was only being this magnanimous because she'd met her husband that way, did wear Igmund down sufficiently to consider it. Faleen's urging to take it, it was better than living in exile in Evermore, and the local tribes of the Western Reach were starting to petition the count to stop giving hospitality to the Nord oppressors who'd until recently been ruling their eastern kinsmen, also helped. That, and the return of his father's shield, buffed up and shined and enchanted almost beyond recognition, along with a hefty payment of gold and gems and the offer to purchase Falkreath's timber for the Reach's various rebuilding projects. In the end, Igmund was hard-pressed to refuse, and the thought of burying Raerek's ashes in the cemetery at Falkreath was a soothing one. And then he met Nenya.

"You're Nenya?" Igmund managed to get out. "My new steward?"

"Yes sir," Nenya said demurely, lowering her eyes. "I've served the people of Falkreath for many years, both under Jarl Siddgeir and Jarl Dengeir before him. Many in Skyrim aren't fond of my people, and they have cause, but I'm glad they've accepted me as one of their own. All the same though, it's better to have a Nord in charge. People are... reluctant to accept change."

"I can imagine. Hear Dengeir's been giving you grief," Igmund said gruffly, actually showing sympathy for the elf. "Well, don't worry about him. He's been going senile for years. Falkreath needed a younger man. One who can treat people with respect and not get into a fight over the future High Queen."

Nenya did smile at that, her nerves seeming to lift a little. "Why, thank you. I must say, it'll be easier to take the sting out of his accusations with a Nord Jarl to tell him off. I'm glad you'll be all right working with an Altmer."

"Ach, nothing against Altmer," Igmund laughed. "Especially not pretty ones. It'll be a pleasure working with you, Steward Nenya."

Nenya actually blushed and whispered a breathless 'likewise!' Elisif retold the whole thing to Madanach later, and neither of them could work out what she saw in him, but neither was surprised when a year later, Igmund and Nenya got married. The lack of children might have proved a problem for the succession, but it unexpectedly resolved itself when Calcelmo and Faleen tied the knot and had a son a year after, a little boy called Raerek who grew up into a tall, lithe Redguard spellsword with golden brown skin and striking gold eyes, and who Igmund eventually declared would be the next Jarl. Faleen and Calcelmo had never been prouder.

Elisif's steward was next to get married at the Temple of Divines, with two grooms meaning two groomsmen, except one of them was actually a woman, namely Elisif herself being Argis's nominated right-hand for the service. Madanach sulked over this for weeks until Elisif finally told him he could help with the stag night if he wanted. Half the Reach promptly turned up and Argis's stag night turned from what was to have been a few quiet drinks in the Skeever to a legendary party that took over the entire city. In the aftermath, Elisif brought in a new Weights and Measures (Alcohol) Act that placed strict limits on what size container beverages could be sold in and what could be mixed with what, and no one under any circumstances whatsoever was to sell drinks mixing jazbay liqueur with Reach jenever. Farkas's stag night organising committee promptly moved it to Jorrvaskr quickly before Jarl Balgruuf adopted similar legislation, a move he had no trouble doing after the incident involving Cicero, three shots of Flying Mammoth Jazbay Brandy and Clan Grey-Mane's cow.

Legendary stag nights aside, Argis and Farkas were happily married in Rain's Hand 202, with Sofie and Lucia as flower girls, Elisif and Vilkas giving away the respective grooms, and everyone agreeing they were a lovely couple.

Elisif's own wedding was a month later and was a rather grander affair with half the nobles in Tamriel attending and a gift pile in the Blue Palace that took up most of the foyer and which Elisif was almost certainly going to have to slip some septims to Brynjolf to get rid of on her behalf. The dress was a sheer grey number with white gold thread and diamonds and amethysts sewn into it and the train needed four guardsmen to carry. Needless to say, no stag nights were had, or hen nights, in fact both parties spent the run-up to the ceremony feeling quietly terrified by all the attention. Titus Mede himself turned up about a week beforehand, being shown around the city, seeing the sights, congratulating Elisif on everything, and then officially announcing the day before that he was adopting Elisif as his heir, which led to the Oculatus scrambling a bit as they had to cope with the Emperor himself escorting Elisif down the aisle.

But once there, she looked into Madanach's eyes and felt it all melt away as she said her vows, heard his, exchanged rings and then they kissed and nothing else mattered, nothing in the world.

And on the 17th Last Seed, 4E 202, a small party of soldiers rode up a mountain path to where Elisif had one last goodbye to say.

"Nearly there," Lydia called as she led the way. "It's just round this bend."

"Are there any more sabre cats?" Eola called from by Elisif's side. "That last one was a bastard to kill."

"But it is dead now!" Cicero cooed. "Very very dead!"

"Yes, we know," Vilkas sighed. "You didn't need to stab it thirty times to do that."

"Oh I don't know, they're pretty tough," Ria mused. "Cicero only had his daggers."

Aela, scouting ahead with Lydia, just shook her head and walked on, her own arrows having dealt more than their fair share of damage before Cicero had leapt from his horse, daggers outstretched, and carved into the beast's back. The poor animal had barely had time to react, and Cicero still had blood all over his armour, but that didn't stop Cicero pouting and looking hopefully at Elisif to settle this. Too bad that after now having to hear court cases week in week out for real, she was disinclined to sort out her friend's disagreements.

"It's dead and that's the main thing," Elisif said. "Let's move on. That shrine's just round the corner."

Sure enough, tucked away under a ledge, there it was. The long neglected Shrine to Talos, although judging from the offerings, not that neglected.

The Oculatus fanned out to keep watch, and the five Companions who'd all volunteered their services sat around behind the Oculatus line, just in case any trouble arrived. So far, no sign of anyone but the birds.

Elisif took the warhorn out of her backpack, dismounted and made her way to the Shrine. Lydia stepped back to give her some privacy, and Elisif knelt at Talos's feet, placing the horn there.

"There," Elisif said softly. "Don't know if you're really a god or not, but Torygg thought you were. So he wanted you to have this. It's his father's. He never left any kids of his own, and Divines know Madanach doesn't want any of Istlod's stuff hanging round if he can help it." A hand couldn't help but go to her own stomach at this point, currently concealed by steel plate armour that fit right now, but possibly not for much longer.

"Just tell Torygg I'm sorry," Elisif whispered. "And that I'm going to be all right. Tell him Madanach's a good husband and a good father, even if he is a complete barbarian."

A moment's hesitation and then Elisif sat back and looked Talos's statue straight in the eyes.

"I gave the Reachmen their land back," Elisif said calmly. "I have no regrets. I'm not sorry. Because you should never have taken it from them in the first place. I don't know where I stand on your worship being legal, because a lot of people still believe in you. But I don't."

She got to her feet and turned around, making her way down the hill to where her people were waiting... only to see drawn weapons, cast mage armour, arrows at the ready... and ten Thalmor agents standing in a group.

"Well now," the lead Justiciar smirked. "We'd been tipped off Talos-worshippers were using this shrine. We had no idea the rot went all the way up to the High Queen herself."

Given she'd married someone who'd rant all day about how Talos could kiss his Forsworn backside if you let him, and had just told the Talos Shrine she didn't believe, this struck Elisif as grotesquely unfair. But she somehow didn't think the Thalmor would believe her.

"Laas Yah Nir," she whispered, glancing around and seeing no signs of life but her own people and the Thalmor in front of her. Good.

"Justiciar," she began. "I think there's been a horrible misunderstanding."

"Too right there has," the Justiciar, Lorcalin was it?, laughed. "We thought you were a friend of the Thalmor. Turns out you're not. The Ambassador will just love to hear how the Emperor's daughter is secretly worshipping Talos."

"Then let's make sure she never hears it," Elisif growled, drawing Dawnbreaker. "Kill them all! Leave no witnesses!"

Cicero and Aela's bows had already fired and Eola's magic was already crackling through the air. Moments later, battle was joined and Lydia was already snapping orders to the Oculatus as they closed with the Thalmor. Elisif had her sword and shield out but quite honestly her soldiers and friends were winning this one easily and no one was even getting close to her. Until Lorcalin somehow broke through, blood dripping from wounds but still standing and absolutely furious.

"Nord bitch!" he snarled. "The Aldmeri Dominion will find out about this!"

"Not from you," Elisif growled, raising her shield. Already some of her friends were turning, and Lydia was sprinting forward, and Eola's hands were raised to cast... and it was all too late to stop the ice spear from leaving Lorcalin's hand and hitting Elisif square in the stomach.

It wasn't the pain. It wasn't the cold. It wasn't anything that might happen to her – she'd suffered worse. It was the sheer panic as she fell to the ground, hand clutching her stomach as all she could think was 'not again, not again, I can't go through this again'.

It was small comfort that Cicero had just pounced, slicing Lorcalin open, nor that the last of the Thalmor had also fallen and Eola was telling everyone to leave this with her, she'd sort the corpses out – raising them and walking them away from the scene and then disposing of the ashes was going to be time consuming, but hardly hard, especially as Eola had it on good authority there were some necromancers living at the top of the hill in the old keep.

Which left Lydia and Aela kneeling by her side and staring at her, with three Oculatus behind them.

"Are you all right, my Queen?" Lydia gasped.

"It's an ice spear, she's taken worse damage than this," Aela frowned. "Why's she shaking?"

"I don't know but drink these," Lydia said, reaching for potions. "And one of you get a horse, we need to get her a healer now."

Elisif barely remembered the trip back to Whiterun. There was just a blur of hard riding, then being carried into the city and the guards immediately sorting out a stretcher to the Temple of Kynareth. A perk of being Queen, Elisif supposed. Then lying in a private bed in the temple, being stripped of her armour and everybody being cleared out by Danica's priests... and then Madanach, summoned from either Dragonsreach or wherever he'd been entertaining himself in the city, and she could barely hear Sofie desperately wanting to know if she'd be all right, before Vilkas took charge of both children and herded them to Jorrvaskr, much to Madanach's evident relief.

"Elisif, what happened? Are you all right?" He was holding her hand, stroking her hair, looking horrified like she'd never seen him and it occurred to him last time she'd been injured to the extent of needing treatment, she'd been unconscious... and he'd not been her lover then.

"Frost magic," she whispered, her free hand drifting down to frostbitten flesh on her stomach. "Hit me here. Madanach, I'm sorry!" Fear gave way to misery as Elisif burst into tears, terrified of what had happened to her, terrified of consequences beyond her own health... terrified she was having a miscarriage. Again. Two months into a pregnancy, and literally no one but Madanach and some of the temple priests and some Forsworn healers he'd sent for knew for sure yet... and already it could be over.

Madanach tightened his grip on her hand and leaned over, kissing her cheek and resting his forehead against hers.

"It is not your fault," she heard him whisper, grief catching in his voice already. Then he was lifting his head and beckoning Danica over.

"Ice spear to the abdomen, temperature of thirty five below freezing, Danica, she's pregnant, is there any chance...?"

"Maybe," Danica said quietly. "You're the father, yes?"

"Obviously," Madanach growled. "Can you save it or not?"

"Depends. Do you have the Dragonskin gift? I know most Bretons do but not all."

Madanach nodded, wondering what that had to do with anything. His four biological daughters had inherited it too, but they'd been trueborn Reachfolk. Argis hadn't and he told Danica this.

Danica pursed her lips and ran some diagnostic spells over Elisif and then she smiled.

"Yes. There's still a heartbeat. Stand back and let me work."

Madanach did, and Elisif had nearly collapsed from relief on hearing this. So she lay back and closed her eyes, and eventually Danica confirmed that not only was Elisif going to be fine, by the grace of Kynareth she still had her baby.

"But no more gallivanting round the countryside and tangling with rogue mages, you hear?" Danica scolded. "You're fortunate this little one appear to have its father's magic resistance and a Nord's tolerance for cold."

"Yes Danica," Elisif said meekly. "Sorry, Danica."

Danica's expression softened as she patted Elisif's hand.

"Don't be. It's not your fault. You just concentrate on keeping healthy and let the gods worry about the rest. Now. You've got your husband and two worried children wanting to see you. Let's not keep them waiting."

Danica stepped away, and then Sofie was pouncing, tearfully cuddling her and wanting to know if she was all right, and Aventus rather gruffly shuffling up and informing her everyone was saying she might die, by which Elisif inferred he'd been worried but didn't want to admit it. She cuddled them both and whispered she was going to be fine, and then she saw Madanach settling himself in a nearby chair, hopeful little smile on his face.

"Everything's all right?" Madanach asked. Elisif nodded.

"Yes. And... we should tell them, you know."

"Tell us what?" Sofie asked, surprised.

"Yeah, Da, what's up?" Aventus asked. Elisif exchanged looks with Madanach and smiled.

"Did you want to tell them?" Elisif said, finally able to smile again. Madanach just shrugged.

"It's your secret to tell."

"But they're your kids," Elisif pointed out. Succession rules stopped her formally adopting them, also she was a bit too young for kids their age to be calling her Mama. So first-name terms it was, but Elisif didn't love them any less for all that.

"All right," Madanach sighed. "Kids, how would you feel about a little brother or sister? Actually, don't answer that. Sometime next Sun's Dawn you're getting one, so get used to the idea."

"You are so full of tact and empathy, aren't you?" Elisif sighed, sinking back into the pillows but at the same time, what if the kids weren't OK with it?

She needn't have worried. Sofie gasped, squealed and promptly hugged her, while Aventus was high-fiving his father then cuddling him.

"You're really gonna have another kid?" Aventus asked, impressed.

"Yes," Madanach said proudly. "And don't look so surprised, I'm not completely decrepit, you know."

"Totally never said that," Aventus said quickly. Then he fell quiet and looked up at his father. "Um... Da... if you're going to have real kids with Elisif, what happens to us? I mean, we're still your kids too, right?"

Madanach made a surprised little noise in his throat before holding his son to him.

"Of course you are," Madanach murmured. "You and Sofie both."

Elisif couldn't help but sniffle a bit and snuggled Sofie and they all stayed like that for a while until Elisif found herself yawning, and Madanach decided Elisif needed sleep and shepherded the kids back to Dragonsreach. Two days later they were on their way back to Solitude, where more healers descended, and Elisif was left with no choice but to write to Titus Mede then make the official announcement, at which point any chance of privacy, space or self-sufficiency evaporated for the remainder of the pregnancy.

But seven months later, when Elisif, after a gruelling twelve-hour labour and much cursing at Madanach for doing this to her, was finally delivered of little Maia Jordis Eithne Wolfeagle Elisifsdottir ap Madanach (but mostly just Maia), Elisif held her little girl in her arms, equally tearful husband snuggling alongside her, and felt like the happiest woman alive.

A/N: OK, so the epilogue did acquire something of a plot in the end. :) But I was running out of creative juice to get all the events as fully fleshed out story events, so an epilogue it was. I do hope you liked it.

Stag nights and hen nights are the big boozy parties young people tend to have prior to getting married - bachelor/bachelorette parties by any other name. Reachfolk strike me as the type to be able to make extremely strong liquor out of virtually anything, and Nords will drink large quantities of virtually anything without falling over, the two together is a recipe for... something. (A lot of clearing up and some detailed new alcohol-serving legislation apparently.)

It occurred to me Elisif doesn't really have a surname - The Fair's really a personal descriptor not a name, and Dragonborn has a very specific meaning, it's not necessarily hereditary. So she and Madanach came up with one for their children - Wolfeagle, a mix of the Wolf of Solitude and the Reach's Red Eagle. Little Maia grows up just fine, is also Dragonborn and despite looking like a true Nordic warrior-queen, she actually becomes a very accomplished battlemage. Empress Maia goes on to become a force to be reckoned with, as you would expect from someone who learnt magic from the King in Rags, spycraft from Delphine, dirty fighting and discreet stabbing from Cicero, how to swing big heavy weapons at people from her Uncle Farkas... and the Thu'um from Odahviing.