“Don't look at me, Da, she told you you weren't allowed and you did it anyway,” Argis sighed. “I can't exactly help you here.”
“He'll be removing it,” Liriel said, squeezing Madanach's hand rather tighter than was strictly necessary. “We'll go down there tomorrow and he'll close it for you. Won't we, cariad?” A pointed glare from Liriel and Madanach finally gave in, knowing when he was beaten.
“Fine, I'll get it closed,” he muttered. Elisif sat down again, mollified.
“You will do that very thing,” Elisif said tersely. “You'll do it if I have to stand over you myself and watch it.”
And so the following day found the Jarl herself in a set of scaled armour and the Jagged Crown marching the former King in Rags down into Potema's Catacombs along with Liriel and Argis and Borkul and Jordis and Sybille Stentor and Bolgeir Bearclaw and Cicero and little Ancalime who wasn't supposed to be there but had crept after them all because she was curious and bored and they didn't realise she was there until it was too late to send her back. And Madanach duly closed the portal down.
Liriel stayed in Solitude a week longer before deciding it was time to go home. She'd already written to Eola to get the Falmer hive at Chillwind Depths taken care of, and word had come in that not only had it been cleared out, the entrance had been destroyed in a carefully engineered rockfall, which pleased everyone no end.
Meryndor's funeral was rather less pleasing, Ancalime sobbing throughout in her mother's arms, but it turned out the spell used by Altmer to light a cremation pyre was the same as the one the Reachmen used, so they were able to give him the rites he'd have wanted. Sabrinda took a few locks of his hair beforehand, setting them in lockets for her, Liriel and Ancalime to have one each. The ashes were being sent back to Liriel's older brother Haldyn, along with a letter from Sabrinda breaking the news to her son and telling him she was sorry but she couldn't face living in Alinor without her husband and was staying out here, but to send any post to Understone Keep in Markarth, care of Liriel.
Ancalime cried even more when Sabrinda told her not only were they not going back to Alinor but that she was leaving too, but she cheered up a bit on learning she was going to live in Markarth.
“I can play with Sissel and Lucia every day?” Ancalime whispered, amazed.
“Hope so, you'll be sharing a room with them,” Madanach snorted. Liriel had already written to Eola to ask her to make the arrangements, and apparently Sissel and Lucia were already very excited to be getting a new foster-sister.
“And – and is Cicero going to live there too?” Ancalime asked hopefully.
“Of course!” Cicero cooed. “When Cicero is not busy tending to Mother and serving the will of the Dread Father, Cicero is often in Markarth!”
Ancalime had promptly launched herself at Cicero, cuddling him half to death and saying she was glad, she would have missed him if she'd gone back to Alinor. Of course, that reminded her she'd lost one parent and her other one was going away for a long time, and she started crying again, but fortunately Cicero was a lot better at dealing with crying children than anyone gave him credit for and cooed and fussed over her until she was feeling better.
About the only real fly in the ointment was Madanach. Further doses of the anti-Skooma potions had arrived for him, enough to see out a whole month, and he made a point of drinking one in front of Liriel every morning. It saddened her to see him forced on to them, but the alternative was worse. All the same, to see her strong, fierce husband weakened like this... it hurt to watch. Still, she appreciated him going out of his way to let her see him take them. It wasn't quite the same as full enrolment in the programme, but it boded well. That wasn't the problem.
Re: Thicker Than Blood 12.7
“He'll be removing it,” Liriel said, squeezing Madanach's hand rather tighter than was strictly necessary. “We'll go down there tomorrow and he'll close it for you. Won't we, cariad?” A pointed glare from Liriel and Madanach finally gave in, knowing when he was beaten.
“Fine, I'll get it closed,” he muttered. Elisif sat down again, mollified.
“You will do that very thing,” Elisif said tersely. “You'll do it if I have to stand over you myself and watch it.”
And so the following day found the Jarl herself in a set of scaled armour and the Jagged Crown marching the former King in Rags down into Potema's Catacombs along with Liriel and Argis and Borkul and Jordis and Sybille Stentor and Bolgeir Bearclaw and Cicero and little Ancalime who wasn't supposed to be there but had crept after them all because she was curious and bored and they didn't realise she was there until it was too late to send her back. And Madanach duly closed the portal down.
Liriel stayed in Solitude a week longer before deciding it was time to go home. She'd already written to Eola to get the Falmer hive at Chillwind Depths taken care of, and word had come in that not only had it been cleared out, the entrance had been destroyed in a carefully engineered rockfall, which pleased everyone no end.
Meryndor's funeral was rather less pleasing, Ancalime sobbing throughout in her mother's arms, but it turned out the spell used by Altmer to light a cremation pyre was the same as the one the Reachmen used, so they were able to give him the rites he'd have wanted. Sabrinda took a few locks of his hair beforehand, setting them in lockets for her, Liriel and Ancalime to have one each. The ashes were being sent back to Liriel's older brother Haldyn, along with a letter from Sabrinda breaking the news to her son and telling him she was sorry but she couldn't face living in Alinor without her husband and was staying out here, but to send any post to Understone Keep in Markarth, care of Liriel.
Ancalime cried even more when Sabrinda told her not only were they not going back to Alinor but that she was leaving too, but she cheered up a bit on learning she was going to live in Markarth.
“I can play with Sissel and Lucia every day?” Ancalime whispered, amazed.
“Hope so, you'll be sharing a room with them,” Madanach snorted. Liriel had already written to Eola to ask her to make the arrangements, and apparently Sissel and Lucia were already very excited to be getting a new foster-sister.
“And – and is Cicero going to live there too?” Ancalime asked hopefully.
“Of course!” Cicero cooed. “When Cicero is not busy tending to Mother and serving the will of the Dread Father, Cicero is often in Markarth!”
Ancalime had promptly launched herself at Cicero, cuddling him half to death and saying she was glad, she would have missed him if she'd gone back to Alinor. Of course, that reminded her she'd lost one parent and her other one was going away for a long time, and she started crying again, but fortunately Cicero was a lot better at dealing with crying children than anyone gave him credit for and cooed and fussed over her until she was feeling better.
About the only real fly in the ointment was Madanach. Further doses of the anti-Skooma potions had arrived for him, enough to see out a whole month, and he made a point of drinking one in front of Liriel every morning. It saddened her to see him forced on to them, but the alternative was worse. All the same, to see her strong, fierce husband weakened like this... it hurt to watch. Still, she appreciated him going out of his way to let her see him take them. It wasn't quite the same as full enrolment in the programme, but it boded well. That wasn't the problem.