Mortal (Book 3)

Chapter 21

"I have to agree with the girl on this one. Everyone knows the bride and groom can't see each other the night before the wedding." Galmar says with Erdi nodding in agreement.
"We very obviously have not been saving ourselves. The entire kingdom knows it; this is ridiculous." I growl.
"Aye, and none know it better than myself." Galmar shakes his head. Erdi blushes and clamps her hands over her mouth as she giggles. I just roll my eyes.
"I think we can at least respect one tradition." Ulfric says. "Just give me a moment to get a few of my things and I'll move to a guest room." He says as he disappears into our room.
"Am I not the Queen?" I ask indignantly as Galmar and Erdi walk away, satisfied. "I hope that was just a diversion." I say back to Ulfric.
"You'll survive one night, Nova." He says. I frown. Since we nearly lost each other forever in my battle with Alduin, I've been reluctant to spend the night alone. Since then, tomorrow has seemed less certain than ever. He sees my expression and takes a small wooden box off of his desk. He opens it, displaying two golden amulets of Mara.
"How improper we'd be if we showed at our own wedding without these. I ordered them special from Riften; it took a while but thankfully they arrived on time." I smile, tears in my eyes.
"How ironic; we've planned a whole wedding and we're not even engaged in the eyes of the gods." I joke. After all, you're supposed to have them when you propose.
"Oh, I don't believe they'll be able to forgive us." He plays along. He pulls one amulet out of its box and wraps it over his neck. "I suppose I'll just have to propose again." He says, dropping to one knee as he presents the other amulet to me dramatically. "High Queen Novariana Septim of Skyrim, will you do me the honor of taking my hand in marriage?" He says. Now I'm really crying, and I can only nod. He stands and places the other amulet around my neck, kissing me gently.
"Stalling are we? Out! Out!" Erdi demands as she appears once again in the doorway and begins pushing Ulfric towards the door.

~

"My Emperor, you wanted to speak with me?" The Commander said, stepping into the lavishly decorated chambers, however dimly lit. The fire flickered, its light gently illuminating all of the golden adornments of the room, along with the dozens of battle scars on the commander's face.
"Ah yes, Commander Maro. Come in." The elderly man said kindly, gesturing to another luxurious seat by the fire across from his own. Well into his eighties, he appeared to almost sink into his finery as if it were a shell. As covered as the older man was by his robes, jewelry and kind smile, Emperor Titus Mede II hid his own battle scars beneath it all.
"It's late, my Emperor. What's troubling you?" He asked.
"This so-called 'Dragonborn Queen' of Skyrim. Should I be worried?" He said, his watery eyes glancing over a letter in his lap.
"Of course not, my Emperor. She's being dealt with, as is custom for these matters with the Septims."
"Ah, I see. I should've trusted you, Commander. You always make sure it's taken care of." He said, smiling.
"I'll never fail you, my emperor. I wouldn't worry yourself with the child, my agents have it all under control. Soon enough she won't be of concern any longer and you can rally your forces to retake Skyrim. Now, is there anything else—" The commander was interrupted by the elderly man's rasping voice.
"Oh, but... Why do I seem to remember you saying a number of years ago she was being 'dealt with'? And before that, her mother was being 'dealt with'? And your predecessor, assuring me the entire Septim line had finally been 'dealt with,' until yet again more were found?" The Emperor said with a smile. The commander shifted uncomfortably; the Emperor was the only man who had ever lived that could strike fear into him with a genuine smile. "I apologize Commander Maro, but I find it inaccurate for you to say you'll never fail me when you already have."
"I understand your concern, my Emperor, and my agents have not been as timely with containing the situation as I would hope, but rest easy. This girl is no threat. She's very far to the North, and has a very small army and no allies to speak of. The Penticus Oculatus is much more concerned with your security at the moment; it is of utmost importance."
"No allies? Representatives of both Morrowind and Black Marsh attended her coronation." The Emperor said, pulling out another letter. The Commander was silent again. "Didn't think I knew about that, did you? I may be old, Commander, but I'm not dumb. Yet." He said again with a smile.
"Black Marsh and Morrowind are bitter enemies. How could they ever become a proper alliance? Not to mention Morrowind has no armies to speak of, and—"
"But they have the coin that Skyrim desperately needs. War isn't cheap."
"And there's racial tensions to think about between the nords and—"
"Yes, but the Queen is not her husband. On top of all that, it's only a matter of time before the Redguard princes start seeking an alliance. Next thing I know she'll be marching on my city, and you'll still be here telling me she's not a problem. Do you realize, Commander Maro, that in failing to kill this woman, you've thrown Tamriel into war? A war which the Empire is unlikely to survive?" The Commander was dumbfounded into silence. "You know what I need, Commander. I suppose you didn't understand before, but now I'll make sure you do. I need her, her children, and every other living Septim your agents know of dead."
"My Emperor, her children are adopted, orphans from the street. We have reason to believe she can't even have her own children—"
"They must die, all the same." He sighed, almost regretfully. "There's one more, besides this 'Queen' that you know of. I've been through your records. Have you allowed that one to reproduce as well?" He asked.
"No, my Emperor, she's never married or—"
"Good, less work for you." The Emperor sighed again, shuffling through his letters again. "It pains me, Maro. To kill families, innocent children, though I know it must be done for the sake of the Empire. If this had been taken care of with her mother, or when she was a child, it would've saved so much trouble. The Stormcloaks might not have even won the war. Do you understand?" The commander sighed. Assassinations of politicians had never been easy. Children even less so. Killing the Queen sooner would've saved countless other lives. The Emperor was right; things would've been easier.
"Yes, my Emperor."