Bread, Thorns, and Stormcloaks

News from beyond the Curtain.

Bjorn's hand was on my waist.

It had appeared on the small of my back whilst we had been talking with Bassianus and Klimmek about the new laws targetting the Thieves' Guild in Riften.
It had crept round to the edge of my hip whilst I introduced him to Temba, and he in turn had introduced me to his cousins, Raki and Lev. I'd accidentally caught Raoul's eye as he did so, and was shocked by the flash of cold anger in them. It was quickly replaced by his usual easy smile however, and later I'd be unsure as to whether it had ever been there at all.
And now here it was, warm and heavy, burning through my dress and into my waist like cast iron as he spoke with our mothers. I had been a part of the conversation too -  I usually loved nothing more than watching my mother control her annoyance and impatience with Nurte Rain-Hand, whom mother had once described as 'As stupid and ignorant about everyday life as an Imperial is about the cold'.  But somewhere during the conversation about the storm-clouds which were now looming ever closer to Ivarstead, when Bjorn's hand had reached it's resting place, my mind had drifted away.

My attention was now distracted by Solveigg attempting a song on the lute under Lynly's gentle direction. Her little pink tongue poked out from the gap between her teeth, and she was frowning in concentration. Her hair, as brown as a mouse's fur, stuck out from her loose braid in whispy tufts, and I longed to go to her and smooth it down. Infact, I longed to do anything which involved moving away from this intimate little circle.
It was then that I realised that the conversation around me had stopped, and I turned my head to look at Bjorn. He and my mother were still conversing, but silently, and as Mrs Rain-Hand craned her neck like a chicken, doing her best to break her way into the private conversation, I felt bile stirring deep down in the pit of my stomach.
My mother flashed me a look of barely contained excitement, then dropped the hand in which she held her wine flagon to the table beside her. Then she lifted her arm and dropped the flagon down again, and again, until the constant thud of it drowned out the noise and bustle around us.
Solveigg put down the lute.

"Thank you everyone for being here tonight for the celebration of Eira's 19th nameday," she tipped her cup towards me and I tipped mine back with a weak smile. Mother used to hate doing speeches. But ever since father died, I think she saw it as her duty to make them, though I'm sure Raoul would do it instead if she asked. She draws them out, makes them funny and loud, in contrast to the short, deep-toned speeches father used to make. As if she's doing her best to cover up the fact that he is not here.

"We have been waiting for this day a long time. Though with my daughter's penchant for adventure and getting into danger with her brothers, Asgorn and I spent many a night wondering if it would ever even come." A laugh rippled through the party and the bile in my stomach rose. I looked out above their heads into the darkness, breathing deeply. Calming myself.

"...but Eira is a daughter any mother would be proud of. She is determined, and brave, and kind, and the love she has in her heart for those around her is clear in everything she does..."
I suddenly spotted flecks of orange in the distance, up on the mountain path. A cluster of them, flickering and wavering and growing bigger. Or coming closer.

"...and where should Asgorn find her but up in the Barrow! Where else would my daughter have gone when she was bored, if not the place her father and I had forbidden her to go." More laughter. The orange flecks were becoming steadily larger, some moving erratically up and down, others disappearing and reappearing behind trees and boulders. It was too dark to see what they were, but surely they were torches?

"...and I said to Eira: 'Where is Raoul, dearest?', to which she replied - sweet as a roll - 'I don't know mother, have you checked the stable?'..." The sound of hooves. Carried on the wind from the same direction as the torches. Lots of them, cascading over each other, though far enough away that they were but a whisper in the crowd.

"...yet from the moment they first met at just 10 years old, Bjorn and Eira were inseparable. And now here we are, almost 9 years later and they still are.." It was riders. A flurry of riders carrying torches. I could see the outline of them now, see the dark shapes of the horses against the pale stone of the mountain path. There was muttering at the back of the party as several people turned around towards the growing noise.

"...so of course it was to my immense pleasure when Bjorn took me aside during his last visit to ask me a very important question. One which he would have asked of Asgorn had he still been here..." Mother appeared to notice the commotion then, her eyes fixing on the direction of the noise, before she started to carry on,
"So Bjorn, if you would-"
Not just riders - soldiers. Helmets clad the heads of those at the front; several of the horses were clad in leather armour. The sound of hooves upon stone was a cacophony now, but those of us within the farm were quiet.

"What is going on?" I heard Nurte demand to my mother. She didn't respond, instead stepping forward to stand beside me. At last they thundered into the light of our torches, and someone screamed.

Blood, dark and crusted on their bodies, soaking through their armour. The smell of fire. A real one, not that of a torch. Eyes which stood out starkly against their bloodied and blackened faces. Their ruined uniforms were scorched purples and grey-blues - guards from Riften and Falkreath.
The guard at the front removed his helmet. His eyes beneath were wild with fear.

"There has been a dragon attack in Helgen. It is destroyed. You are all in danger."

A void of silence consumed the crowd. No-one spoke. No-one breathed.
Then suddenly out of the corner of my eye, I saw Freya stumble forwards -

"Igold?" her voice was laced with fear, her arms stretched out towards the soldiers.
"Igold?"

But Igold wasn't there.

She screamed for him then.
And that's when all Oblivion broke loose.