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Thicker Than Blood A/N and Summary

[(Anonymous)]

A/N: Saw this, had to fill with my Altmer DB. The end of the last fic she starred in (Nightshade and Juniper) had her marrying her human lover, and most of the plot ends got resolved... except the bit where she'd never told her parents about the wedding because she believed her staunch Thalmor mother would never approve (correct!).

So of course, here is the fic where said Thalmor family arrive in Skyrim to find out just what Liriel's been up to and if these alarming rumours from the Embassy are true...

THE STORY SO FAR: When dragons returned to Tamriel, the one chosen to fight them was an Altmer woman called Liriel, who went on to become Archmage of Winterhold, Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, Slayer of Alduin and adoptive mother to two little girls called Sissel and Lucia, who lived with her and her husband in Markarth. So far, so canon. However, said husband was no ordinary human, but Madanach the King in Rags, and thanks to Liriel, he and his Forsworn followers were instrumental in helping the Empire defeat Ulfric Stormcloak. As a reward for his assistance, Madanach got to keep the kingdom he'd worked for all this time and now rules from Markarth as Reach-King, with his one remaining legitimate child Eola as his heir to the throne, and Liriel Dragonborn as his beloved wife and Queen. Sadly for him, Liriel never told her family back in Alinor about the wedding, leaving that to fall to the Thalmor Ambassador, and when Liriel's Justiciar mother hears disturbing rumours of her daughter marrying a human, the scene is set for trouble.

Summary: The worst part of any marriage is dealing with the in-laws, especially when they don't think you're good enough for their little girl. But when your wife is an Altmer and her mother is a devoted Thalmor Justiciar, even a king has his work cut out for him.

Pairings: F!Altmer DB/Madanach, Cicero/Eola, Argis/Elisif
Relationships: het
Kinks: family drama, crack, a bit of angstiness
Warnings for unabashed elven supremacy from the Thalmor characters.

faction:forsworn, race:breton, race:altmer, race:imperial, char:cicero, char:madanach, char:eola, char:elenwen, faction:thalmor

Thicker Than Blood 1.1

[(Anonymous)]

A/N: Ancalime is pronounced 'an-KA-lee-may'.

It was a sunny, if breezy day, in Solitude. Seagulls and hawks wheeled overhead, occasionally landing on the docks to steal fish or beg for food from unwary strangers. Long-term Solitude residents knew far better than to feed them, and even their notoriously sentimental Jarl and High Queen had accepted the need to ban people from trying to give them food. Didn't stop visitors from trying though, only to have to flee when the seagulls starting harassing them once food stopped being provided, much to the annoyance of the guards who had to deal with the problem and the amusement of everyone else.

Of course, that only applied when it happened to adults. When children were involved, it was a different story. One such child was standing on the docks, newly arrived off a boat from Anvil in Cyrodiil, staring about her at this strange Northern country and shivering a little in the woollen dress her mother had bought her during their brief lay-over in Cyrodiil. She'd complained at the time about being too warm and her mother had told her she would need it in the barbarous ice-waste kingdom they were going to.

It didn't look very icy. But there'd been big white ice mountains in the distant Sea of Ghosts and the marsh on the other side of the river didn't look inviting. She liked the arch though with its big palace balanced on it, home to High Queen Elisif and King-Consort Argis of the Reach and their little girl Princess Lirela, about six months old now. Not much chance of her being allowed in, although you never knew. Daddy was often able to wrangle invites to parties and as for Mamma... When Mamma demanded something, she usually got it.

Right now, the little girl was staring at a seagull. She knew what seagulls were. She'd grown up by the sea after all, although she wasn't ever allowed to go to the harbour on her own. But right now Mamma and Daddy were supervising the luggage being brought ashore and paying no attention to her.

“Hello,” she whispered. “What's your name?” Seagulls couldn't talk, she knew that. But being the youngest child in a family of three when her older siblings were a lot older than her was really lonely sometimes. Especially given she lived in an upper-class mansion and most of her parents' associates didn't have children close to her age. Sometimes she got really lonely. So she talked to trees and animals and told them stories and sang them songs. Even if they didn't talk back, they didn't seem to mind listening.

“My name's Ancalime, but you can call me Cali,” she whispered. “I'm not from Skyrim. We're here visiting my big sister. She lives in a place called Markaff. I think. I don't know where that is, do you?”

No answer, but there never was. Ancalime just shrugged and kept talking.

“She left home ages ago. Years ago. When I was little, really little. But I still remember her. She was really pretty and took me for horse rides and told me stories and taught me magic and said she was going to learn every spell there ever was and have her own magic castle one day. That's why she left, to learn more. She was going to study in Cyrodiil. Except she got in trouble and disappeared and turned up in Skyrim instead. She wasn't supposed to go to Skyrim! Now she's in even more trouble! Mamma's really cross. So we're here to bring her home.” Ancalime glanced over at her mother, still arguing with some poor dockhand, and her father looking tense and uneasy and sad, like he did all the time now whenever he thought no one was looking. Since the letter about Liriel had arrived from the Ambassador here.

“Hey! Elf! No petting or feeding the gulls!”

Ancalime jumped back, slanted green eyes wide. At five foot tall nearly she was already coming up to the same height as some of the lesser races... but these humans, these pale-skinned Nords, they were big. This one was one such and she couldn't even see his face behind that helmet.

Re: Thicker Than Blood 1.2

[(Anonymous)]

“I'm sorry!” she cried. “I wasn't!”

“You looked like you were,” the guard snapped. “Every other week we must get some idiot or other trying to feed them and nearly getting their eyes pecked out for their trouble. You're just lucky it didn't attack. Now that's a five septim bounty and a little trip to Castle Dour for you, come on!”

Ancalime was about four foot ten, the Altmer equivalent of somewhere between eight and nine in human terms, and in no way any kind of adult and anyone who bothered to learn anything about elves would know that. But Altmer bred rarely and few humans had ever seen an Altmer child. Many humans who didn't know better thought she was some kind of dwarf Bosmer, as this guard had.

Ancalime gasped, horrified. She didn't even have five septims and wasn't Castle Dour the prison?

“Mamma!” she shrieked. “Mamma, they're taking me to prison!!”

The guard followed her eyes to the imperious woman a few feet away, with long red hair just like both her daughters' trailing down her back, the delicately pointed ears and golden skin all true Altmer had, about six foot tall... and most intimidating of all, the blue-gold robes of a Thalmor Justiciar.

“Stendarr's sake,” Justiciar Sabrinda muttered to herself but a second later her green eyes had fallen on the hapless guard who was only just realising his mistake.

“Is there some kind of... problem?” Sabrinda asked, cold voice implying that there had better not be, or someone who wasn't her would be in for dramatically more than they'd bargained for.

“Is, er, she with you?” the guard asked, doing his best not to look frightened. Back in the barracks he'd complain about the Thalmor and joke about them with his mates like all of them... but out here in the open with one of their Justiciars staring you down, it was another matter entirely.

“I'm her mother,” Sabrinda growled. “Anything you have to say to her, you can say to me. Now, what exactly is she alleged to have done?”

“She was, er, feeding the seagull, or talking to it or something,” the guard said, only sweating a little. “That's a five septim fine round here. They attack people, see.”

“I see,” Sabrinda said calmly. Without batting an eyelid or even seeming to move, she'd flung out a hand, lightning bolt crackling out, hitting the hapless seagull dead centre and killing it instantly. The bird collapsed lifelessly into the river and Ancalime bit back a gasp as it died. She was old enough by now to no longer be terribly surprised at her mother's ruthless streak. Sabrinda wasn't a bad mother or an uncaring one per se... but life in the Thalmor didn't encourage sentimentality.

“Now it will be attacking no one,” Sabrinda said calmly. “Come along, Ancalime. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

“Yes Mamma,” Ancalime said sadly. That was the trouble with her animal friends, she had to be very careful who she befriended and never to bring them back to the house. It wasn't the first timeher mother had killed something in front of her. Sabrinda was very particular about who her family associated with and she had a horror of vermin.

Ancalime wasn't entirely sure what vermin meant – the servants had told her it meant unwanted animals that spread disease and damaged food or crops... but Ancalime had heard her mother use it to refer to humans before now, when she thought Ancalime wasn't listening, and Ancalime wondered if that meant her mother had ever shot lightning at a human. She didn't know. She knew you weren't meant to use Destruction magic on people. But people weren't vermin. Or were they? Her Khajiit nanny (left behind due to Mamma not wanting to leave Ancalime alone without proper Elven supervision and her older brother Haldyn being too busy to look after her, especially with his wife Naarie being pregnant now) was definitely a person... but Ancalime didn't think her mother thought the Khajiit dockworkers back home were. It was all very confusing.

Thicker Than Blood 2.1

[(Anonymous)]

Summary: Cicero and Eola are all set to leave for their honeymoon... but some unexpected arrivals mean Eola could be staying around a little bit longer. Meanwhile Liriel's back in the Reach after a frantic chase across Skyrim, unsure if she should be throttling her husband or begging his forgiveness, unaware that her adventures with Sanguine are the least of her troubles.

A/N: Mild Dragonborn spoilers, mostly due to all the loot Liriel brought back from Solstheim. Also Liriel makes her appearance in this one! I missed her too. :)

Warnings for implied tentacle sex and general debauchery.

“Right, you got everything?” Eola asked, surveying Cicero as he stood in Understone Keep's entrance hall, dressed in the Dark Brotherhood's Shrouded Armour and his usual jester hat, pack on his back and weapons at his waist, chief of which was Molag Bal's Mace, earned after a little escapade involving the unfortunate discovery of a shrine to him in the city – unfortunate for the Vigilant who'd made the discovery anyway. It had been very fortunate indeed for Cicero, Eola, Keirine and Madanach, who'd got a shiny mace, a boost to Eola's reputation as a fearless warrior-mage like her father, a Daedric Shrine to experiment on and the Empire's officials now believing Madanach to be a staunch opponent of dark magics respectively out of the deal.

On his other hip was a little souvenir from Cicero's last visit to Solstheim with Liriel, there to slaughter the First Dragonborn, Miraak. There had been pretty things aplenty out of that one, and Cicero's present had been a sword made out of writhing tentacles that lashed out at its targets, draining the life out of them. He'd called it Calamario.

“Cicero has everything!” Cicero cooed. “He has the armour and the potions and the food and the soul gems and some books and Calamario and his dagger and his mace and spare clothes for us both and Eola's armour packed and all her vital necessities, and Mother was tended to yesterday and those new apprentice initiates that your father sent were told that if she was in anything other than pristine condition on Cicero's return there would be... punishment.” Cicero cracked his knuckles, eyes gleaming at the thought and Eola actually shivered as the Forsworn Bond of Matrimony faithfully delivered the emotion to her. Bonded to Cicero for life. It was an odd experience, especially as Forsworn spouses were magically bonded so that each knew where the other was and what they were feeling. Eola really hadn't been at all sure about it, but she'd been pleasantly surprised. The bond had kicked in, Keirine smiling knowingly as it had entwined them both, and then she and Cicero had looked at each other, both realising they could sense the other in their heads.

Cicero had stared at her, pale, eyes wide and while she'd explained it to him, they all had, she wasn't sure he'd really understood. Was he going to freak out? Did he hate the idea already?

No, had been the answer to that.

“I can feel you!” he whispered. Eola had nodded, focusing on him and realising it wasn't shock or horror she was getting off him, it was amazement. Then he'd started smiling, a deliriously happy smile, despite the tears in his eyes, and then he'd pounced, clutching her to him.

“You're real!” he'd squealed. “You're inside Cicero's head! Cicero isn't... isn't alone any more! Cicero won't be lonely! Cicero never needs to worry about the silence again!”

“No,” Eola whispered as she'd held him. “No you won't, I'll look after you, I promise.” He'd held her even tighter and kissed her, and she'd felt her heart melt as she'd felt him in her mind, a little pulsing ball of a hundred and one flickering emotions that were constantly fluttering and changing – but every so often they'd stop and then she'd look up and realise he was watching her and smiling, thinking of absolutely nothing other than that he loved her dearly.

Re: Thicker Than Blood 2.2

[(Anonymous)]

It was traditional for Forsworn spouses to closet themselves off from the rest of the world in a special tent for the first week or so of marriage and Eola was beginning to see why. In between having a lovelorn Cicero doting on her, which frequently led to sex, and then Cicero's other urges kicking in, or indeed her own, which... usually also led to sex, if she was honest, they really were getting nothing done. Definitely time to get out of Markarth and off to Solstheim for some well deserved hunting. Eola hadn't had Dunmer in ages. Would the ash improve the flavour or ruin it, she wondered.

“And Cicero also has Eola's Staff of Tentacular Delights!” Cicero cooed, waving Eola's Solstheim souvenir at her. Ah yes, the Staff of Tentacles. A formidable weapon, but the true significance had only become apparent after the discovery it had two settings – poisonous and non-poisonous, and the latter gave a lot more fine control than the former. After Liriel had discovered this, wondered in front of her husband one night what on earth the point of it was and got more of an answer than she'd bargained for, it had ended up with Eola a few days later, Liriel blushing throughout the conversation as she'd told Eola she really had no use for the thing, no really, none at all.

Eola and Cicero had had plenty of use for the thing. Grinning, she took it off Cicero, and he really needed to stop looking at her like that or they'd never leave.

“Come on,” she told him. “Time's a wasting. The teleport won't wait all day.”

Almost two years free, and the Reachmen had not been idle. Coin beyond their wildest dreams and a king who encouraged all sorts of magical research had led to innovations found nowhere else, as old magic and Dwemer technology had merged. There were lots of little things but probably the biggest change had been Matriarch Keirine being finally able to work out a way of getting the little personal teleportation network she had at Hag's End to work over longer distances, and to develop a few fixed points that would work for anyone. The result? A permanent portal between Markarth and Cwm Prendwemyn, the Reach's Forsworn-built second town in the north at Deepwood Redoubt, with further portals planned at Sundered Towers and Lost Valley in the next year. Madanach had even approached Jarl Elisif to see about building one at Solitude, but so far the High Queen had been adamant in her refusals. Honestly, Nords. So narrow-minded. Weren't they supposed to be brave? It only involved standing in a magic circle while ReachGuard witchblades stood around you and chanted while sprinkling blood, and then your entire body dissolved and reassembled itself at the other end in seconds. Just because a few of the initial test subjects had died in agony was no reason to abandon such a useful invention in Eola's mind.

So off to what had once been the Shrine of Talos, now home to Markarth City Teleportation Chamber. Goodbyes had been said to Madanach, and now Eola and Cicero were making their way through Markarth's winding city streets. Teleport to Cwm Prendwemyn, a nice restful night at Keirine's, then the carriage to Solitude, ship to Windhelm and then on to Raven Rock. There in a week hopefully. Then two weeks spent murdering their way through Solstheim and back. Great fun!

Cicero skipped ahead, already cackling to himself about slaughtering the Morag Tong, turning a corner into the passage leading to the teleport chamber. Then she felt his mood change to surprise... and delight.

“LISTENER!!!” she heard him shriek, and Eola ran after him. Liriel back already and porting in from Hag's End?? How'd she ended up there? Eola couldn't wait to hear this.

Re: Thicker Than Blood 3.1

[(Anonymous)]

A/N: I am so pleased to see people liking and reading this, and really pleased to hear people loved N&J that much. I must have done a good job with Liriel if people are squealing to see more of her. She's not in this chapter, but you get a lot of background info on her via her parents.

Summary: Madanach meets his in-laws and it's hard to say who's less pleased with the situation. Ancalime however is having a great time, especially when she starts making some new friends...

Really, this city was as horrible as Elenwen had implied. Stone everywhere, a maze of winding, twisting pathways, and the people, dear Aedra, the people! Orcs and humans mostly, those dark-skinned Redguards, more of those bearded Nords, and then there were the Reachmen. In particular the guards, in fur outfits that looked like rags held together with bone and feathers, that covered nothing. Sabrinda had already seen Meryndor glancing for a second too long at one of the women – he'd hidden it well, but she'd seen. Then there'd been the way everyone had kept staring at Ancalime – previously stony-faced Breton guards taking one look at her little girl and gasping and whispering like they'd never seen a child before. And so what if her ears were too big for her head? She'd grow into them eventually, all Altmer did.

She put her arm around her daughter and ushered her onwards, following the Reachwoman who'd met them at that infernal teleportal. Sabrinda was all for magic, but that thing was just not natural. She'd had flashbacks to the Oblivion Crisis, staring into yet another Oblivion Gate as the Dremora hordes prepared to pour through, shouting at her soldiers to hold firm, they were the trueborn sons and daughters of the Aedra and they would not fall.

It had been several moments before she'd realised she'd been clinging on to Meryndor in terror, Ancalime staring up at her with wide eyes, and she'd pulled herself together for her daughter's sake and led the way.

Anyway, they'd made it, and why Liriel had chosen this city, Sabrinda had no idea. Stakes welded into stone rooftops, goat's heads on pikes on every corner, an entire Spriggan corpse over one building's entrance, the sound of steelworks on the far side of the central crag. Liriel could have had the glass spires, golden sandy beaches and warm summer breezes of Alinor, with cicadas chirping and jasmine in the air. Instead she'd chosen... this.

That girl was leading them up to the stone edifice at the far end of the city, the one with the waterfall pouring over the front. Ancalime gasped to see it, and Sabrinda tightened her grip. This city had already claimed one daughter – it was not taking the other.

A particularly vicious-looking Orc emerged from the Keep at the head of a small patrol of Reach-Bretons, the Orc at least having the decency to be wearing heavy Orcish armour rather than the unseemly skull-festooned ensemble the Bretons seemed to like.

“Eola! We got your message – well, sorta, the boss and Nepos are still decoding it. What's up – oh. Not you people again, we told you, we don't worship Talos round here... wait. What's with the kid – you're not kidding.”

“Borkul,” the woman said cheerfully. “We've got guests. Here to see the King, seeing as Liriel's not here.”

“I bet,” Borkul said faintly. “Right you lot, form an honour guard, I'll walk with the Princess here. Let's get these distinguished guests inside, shall we?”

Princess – Elenwen had mentioned a daughter from a previous marriage, one old enough to be married herself. This must be her, and while Sabrinda wasn't great with human ages, this one looked like a young-ish, quite capable warrior with an aura of magic to her. So this was the heir to the throne. One to watch, clearly. She wondered where the husband was. Was it the Orc perhaps? Possibly – she'd not thought even humans would stoop to bedding Orcs, but this place was barbaric even by human standards, and those were base enough.

Re: Thicker Than Blood 3.2

[(Anonymous)]

Meryndor's hand on her arm and Sabrinda came back to herself, grounded as always by her beloved husband's touch – four hundred years since they'd met and she couldn't imagine life without him now. Maybe she was the decorated war hero, but he was the one who reminded her why she fought in the first place.

“Are you all right?” he whispered in her ear.

“I'll have to be,” Sabrinda whispered back. “But thank you, love.”

She squeezed his hand and together they entered the Keep. Inside it was bigger than Sabrinda could ever have imagined, huge hallways carved into the rock itself and more ReachGuard on watch under the silver banners with the red eagle emblazoned on them, not entirely dissimilar to the blue and gold eagle flags of the Aldmeri Dominion. But this wild land was not Alinor and its barbarous natives were not Altmer.

Deeper in the main passage led, guards standing to attention as they passed by and then Sabrinda felt it. A long, slow uncurling of magicka, a mage's magicka field let go, slowly and casually flowing out, filling the Keep, and if Sabrinda had thought this place wild before, now she knew it was completely lacking in manners. Honestly, no Altmer of any age over forty-five had any business letting their magicka go like that, half the city would sense it, it was just vulgar to advertise one's power so broadly, particularly if you had the bad luck or ill wit to be stronger than one's social superiors. Whoever this was must be particularly ill-bred – magically formidable perhaps, but in no way anyone she wanted to associate with.

“Mamma!” Ancalime gasped. “Mamma, someone just let their magicka go, I can feel it, where are they? Are they in trouble?”

“They should be, but I daresay that's for their King to judge,” Sabrinda sniffed. “Don't think that means you can do it, Ancalime. You keep yours under control like I've been teaching you.”

“Yes Mamma,” Ancalime said softly. Sabrinda patted her on the back, feeling rather proud of her youngest. Gentle, docile, probably the best-behaved out of all three of her children – Haldyn had thrown tantrums and answered back constantly, while Liriel always had to ask why. Sabrinda knew that curiosity of hers would get her in trouble one of these days, and look how things had turned out.

“Sab,” Meryndor said quietly. “Sab, I think that mage is the King.”

He was looking up ahead to where a steep set of stairs led up to a balcony where various Orc and Reachman servants could be seen going about their business... and in the middle was another set of steps leading up to a throne – and it was the source of the magicka. Steeling herself, Sabrinda stepped forward, following the Reach-Princess as she went to address her father.

“Da, we have visitors,” the young Breton announced cheerfully. “They've come all the way from Alinor, look!”

“I know, Cicero told me... eventually,” the man on the throne growled and as the Princess stepped aside, Sabrinda got her first look at the monster who'd corrupted her little girl.

He was getting to his feet, dressed in blue and gold robes that reminded Sabrinda of a fancier version of her own, a circlet on his head and a red-gold necklace similar to his daughter's round his neck. Silver braided hair down to his shoulders, bearded like most of the men she'd seen so far, although less facial hair than most. He was standing on the steps leading up to his throne, arms folded, and Sabrinda had the feeling he was waiting for her to come to him. But what struck her the most were the eyes – silver-grey eyes that seemed to stare right into you, and although he probably was a fraction of her age, Sabrinda had a feeling he'd packed a lot in to the few years he'd had. She could certainly imagine him facing down an Oblivion gate without fear, shouting for his soldiers to do likewise.

Not that she admired him. Of course not, the man was a monster who ruled over animals, but it would be wise to respect the magic if nothing else. This one had power.

Re: Thicker Than Blood 4.1

[(Anonymous)]

Summary: Altmer children never go wandering strange cities on their own, and a missing Ancalime sends her parents into a panic, which is not alleviated when the dragon arrives. Fortunately, Markarth has well-developed plans for dealing with dragon attacks, not least a secret weapon as their Dragon-Queen returns...

Much later, and Sabrinda and Meryndor emerged from their room to a very quiet house. Clearly Ancalime must be reading or something. Uaile had returned and was sitting at the main dining table, book in hand.

“Good afternoon, Justiciar,” Uaile said archly, one eyebrow raised. “I thought you and Sirrah Meryndor were going to be in there all night.”

Sabrinda narrowed her eyes but did not rise to the bait. A servant but only on loan to her and therefore disciplining the woman would be unwise.

“We all have to eat, Uaile,” Sabrinda said tersely while Meryndor wandered off to Ancalime's room to check up on her. “Will you be cooking or do I have to do it?”

“I can make you something,” Uaile said calmly, laying her book aside. “I used to have to cook for old Nepos after all.”

That was something. Sabrinda could fling a meal together, but since getting married to a man with servants and also becoming a commanding officer in the Dominion's armies, Sabrinda had long since left anything resembling domestic duties behind her.

A door slammed and footsteps rang out as Meryndor raced out of the other room in a panic.

“She's not here. Ancalime's not in her room. Where is she??”

“She's gone?” Sabrinda whispered, feeling everything come to a standstill as she quietly began to panic. “What do you mean, gone? She's not hiding somewhere?”

“She's not in the house, I checked, I used Detect Life and everything, it's just the three of us!” Meryndor cried. “She's gone!”

Sabrinda wasted no time before rounding on Uaile, furious. “Where is she? How could someone get in here and take my daughter??”

Uaile slammed the book down, glaring. “No one has taken your daughter. She went outside, chatted to the Garra-Lann for a bit and was last seen playing some sort of game with the city's other children. I don't know what exactly, but it involved a lot of running around and squealing and she seemed quite happy so I left her to it. The ReachGuard are watching, if there'd been any trouble they'd have brought her home or fetched you, so she's most likely still out there having the time of her life. Why don't you go fetch her in like normal parents?”

“Oh sweet Aedra,” was all Meryndor said before tearing out of the house. Sabrinda had been tempted to make Uaile go find her but she had a feeling her husband was probably best suited to the job. Nevertheless, Sabrinda was sufficiently concerned to want to join him in the search.

“Your King will be hearing about this,” Sabrinda threatened, before chasing after her husband. Uaile just rolled her eyes and let them get on with it. Some parents were too overprotective by half.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where do you think she went,” Meryndor gasped as he emerged into Markarth in the late afternoon. “Gods, look at this city, she could be anywhere.”

“She was with other children,” Sabrinda said, lip curling. Human children and that boded ill. Bad enough Liriel had essentially gone native. “Squealing, apparently. So follow their voices and you should find her. Kynareth help me, they're certainly loud enough.” She could hear a girl squealing at the other end of the city, and gods help her, all these years spent training Ancalime to be good and quiet like a good Altmer child should be, and the human children of Markarth looked set to undo all of it in a day. She should never have brought the girl here.

“Right,” Meryndor nodded, heading off in that direction – and then a shadow swooped overhead, wind whipping through the streets as it did so.

“What in Oblivion...” Meryndor began and Sabrinda went pale to see what it was. A dragon, had to be, a vast scaly lizard with wings swooping over the city, bronze scales gleaming in the sun. Below, the cries of “Dragon!” had gone up and the ReachGuard patrolling the streets had unhooked their bows, cast mage armour and starting sending arrows and magic flying its way as the townsfolk ran for cover.

Re: Thicker Than Blood 4.2

[(Anonymous)]

“Everybody indoors, now!” the guards were shouting and the citizens were swiftly obeying.

“Meryn, find her,” Sabrinda whispered, heart in her mouth as the beast breathed fire at one soldier who only just got her ward up in time. “Go on, go, I'll try and get its attention.” She cast her own mage armour and prepared to fight. No worse than a Dremora horde, right?

“All right. Just... be careful!” Meryndor turned back to her, kissed her passionately and then broke off, his own mage armour flaring into life and warding spells at the ready as he ran off in search of their daughter. Sabrinda shook her head, refocusing on the task in hand. She couldn't think of her husband and daughter out there at this thing's mercy. Just focus on getting it down.

“You there, elf! Get under cover, we'll deal with this!” one nearby ReachGuard shouted at her. Sabrinda ignored him and sent twin fireballs at the beast, both striking it dead centre.

“Never mind. As you were, ma'am,” the guard said, bowing his head and returning his attention to the dragon. Sabrinda smiled grimly and switched to lightning spells. She was starting to enjoy this.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Meryndor darted through the streets, ignoring the ReachGuard snapping at him to get under cover as he reached ground level, correctly guessing the ReachGuard on the higher level would be easier targets for a dragon. Ancalime was a bright kid, if she was going to hide anywhere, it'd be down here, near water, right?

There was a house on the right, but a quick glance revealed the door had actually been welded shut with Destruction magic, and the sign on the front read “NO ENTRY BY ORDER OF THE KING” and underneath in what was presumably the local language “DIM ANSIO MYND LE HORDU Y BRENIN – ANSIO DAIDRAI”.

Daidrai? Meryndor hoped it didn't mean what he thought it did, but he had more pressing concerns. Such as finding his lost daughter, and she certainly hadn't taken shelter there.

“Daddy!”

Meryndor looked, Detect Life revealing a cluster of life forms hiding under a nearby bridge that turned out to be three children, one of which was his own.

“Cali, are you all right?” he gasped, kneeling next to her. “Come on, we need to get you home.”

“We can't, there's a dragon!” the ashen-haired girl next to Ancalime cried. “It might eat us. So we have to stay under cover until the ReachGuard have dealt with it. Adara and Skuli were right next to Adara's house when it turned up so they ran inside but we were here and there wasn't time so we hid.”

“Dragons can't get you if you're under here,” the smallest child, a round-faced girl with bright yellow hair announced cheerfully. “We know, Mama and Odahviing tested it. Odahviing's Mama's dragon friend, but don't worry, he's friendly.”

What sort of woman befriended dragons, much less introduced them to her small children, Meryndor had no idea. He assumed from the look of the girl that her parents were Nords, which would explain it. Everyone knew Nords had no sense of fear or self-preservation.

“Daddy, it's coming back, get in here!” Ancalime pleaded, terror in her eyes. Meryndor felt the wind on his back, the sky darkening and heedless of the water, he threw himself under the bridge just as dragon fire spewed down at them. Sure enough, the angle was wrong and the fire blazed harmlessly into the stream. It was close enough for Meryndor's liking.

Re: Thicker Than Blood 5.1

[(Anonymous)]

A/N: A very long chapter, this one! A reviewer on SKM said this fic had the potential to be both sad and hilarious. This chapter's both.

Summary: The fallout from Sabrinda's arrest has barely settled when the next crisis starts. Liriel having confronted her mother is faced with a no less challenging conversation from her father.

Meryndor was kneeling outside Sabrinda's cell, staring at her through bars of solid Dwemer metal. They'd let her keep her robes, just slinging her into an empty cell and locking the door. Her guards had protested but the ReachGuard were having none of it, just saying to take it up with the King. So the Thalmor soldiers Sabrinda had brought took up positions by her cell door, keeping an eye on their Justiciar. It was something at least.

“Sab, I'll get you out of here, I promise,” Meryndor said, although in truth he had no idea how to go about it. Madanach had not looked like the forgiving type. True, payment of five hundred septims would probably get her out of here, and he did have the coin, but that wouldn't be until tomorrow and Ancalime needed her mother tonight. He needed Sabrinda tonight.

“I know you will, meleth,” Sabrinda said gently, looking surprisingly composed for someone who'd just been arrested and publicly humiliated in front of half the city. “Just pay the fine tomorrow, and I'm sure they'll let me go. Madanach did say that'd be all that was required. He's got precious little honour as far as I've heard, but he's unlikely to go back on what he's promised in front of his wife.”

“That doesn't change the fact you've got to spend tonight locked up in here!” Meryndor cried. “What am I supposed to tell Ancalime, hmm?”

“Meryn, I have survived worse than this,” Sabrinda sighed. “Don't worry about me. Just go home and make sure Cali's all right, the poor thing must be so scared. I don't like leaving her alone with that Uaile woman.”

Nor did Meryndor after today – what if she decided a solo evening trip out was just what Ancalime needed and let her wander the city at night??

“I don't want to leave you alone here,” Meryndor whispered, stroking Sabrinda's cheek through the bars. Sabrinda held his hand to her face, eyes closed and smiling wistfully, then she let him go.

“I don't want you to go either,” she said, sounding nothing like her usual imperious self. “But bennig, our baby girl needs you more. Please meleth, go back to the house, take care of Cali. She's barely into her thirties, she'll be worried if neither of us are back soon. Please make sure she's all right. Then go to the Keep tomorrow, pay my bail and I'm sure we'll be together again before you know it.”

Meryndor leaned forward and kissed her, his heart breaking but he knew she would stand firm on this. She was also right – his wife would survive. His little girl needed him. Both of them did.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh, and if I spy a singing biiird... I'll snap its neck before it's heard!”

Not only was Ancalime not frightened, she was playing with her dolls and singing to herself. Right now she was holding one of them in her left hand, having it stand there and look around aimlessly while in her right hand, she was moving her other doll slowly towards it.

“And if I meet that fair maid Nelly, I'll plunge my knife into her belly!” Ancalime giggled and then the doll in her right hand pounced on the doll in her left.

“STAB STAB STAB STAB STAB STAB STAB!” Ancalime laughed, grinning maniacally. “And then... STAB STAB STAB STAB STAB STAB STAB!” This was accompanied by hitting one doll with the other until it fell over.

“Well done, Miss Primrose!” Ancalime whispered to the surviving doll. “Mother will be so pleased!”

Where in Oblivion did she pick these things up from?? He'd blame the human kids but Sissel and Lucia hadn't seemed quite that disturbed.

“Sweetheart,” he said, taking a seat on the empty child's bed. “What are you doing?”

“Playing at sneaking and stabbing, Daddy!” Ancalime said cheerfully. “Cicero says they're very important things to learn.”

“Who is Cicero?” Meryndor said, amazed at how calm he was actually feeling. Mainly because if he did get jailed for wringing the bastard's neck, at least he'd be with Sabrinda again.

Re: Thicker Than Blood 5.2

[(Anonymous)]

“So she says,” said Meryndor, eyes boring into Uaile's. “Who exactly is Cicero and what sort of maniac talks to children about sneaking and stabbing?”

“He does,” Uaile said cheerfully. “Don't worry, most of the kids have had the Cicero talk by now. About how he's not a real grown-up, he just looks like one and not to pay too much attention to what he has to say. Isn't that right, Ancalime?”

“Yes, Uaile,” Ancalime sighed. “But he is funny, isn't he?”

“Yes, he's funny,” Uaile said with a smile. “That horker joke never gets old. To answer your question, sirrah Meryndor, Cicero Garra-Lann, or Laughing Dagger, is a sworn blood-brother of the King and Queen, and a vitally important member of the court. Sure, he's a little eccentric, but he's done the Teyrnas plenty of services before now. We owe him a lot. And he's also married to the Reach-Princess as of last week. I've not seen a couple so in love for a long time, not since the King's wedding anyway.” Uaile realised at that point who she was talking to and coughed nervously. “Er. Let's just say Cicero's a much-loved character round here.”

“He's a jester!” Ancalime squealed. “I've never seen a jester before! Except in fairy tales, when the jester would follow the prince or princess around and sing songs and tell jokes and caper and get them out of trouble. Is Cicero like Florimel the Fool, Uaile? Does he look after Princess Eola and follow her around?”

Uaile paused, considering this one and then nodded. “You know, as a matter of fact, that's exactly what he does. Does something similar for Queen Liriel and King Madanach too, but these days it's mostly Eola. Seeing as she married him and all. Love at first sight apparently. It's really very romantic.”

If anyone else referred to his daughter as Queen Liriel, Meryndor didn't trust himself not to scream.

“Wait a second, that jester is married to Princess Eola?” he interrupted, trying to work out how the princess, the sole heir to the throne, had been allowed to get away with that one. Sure, he believed in love, most Altmer did, but even so there were limits and Madanach was the overprotective type, to put it mildly.

“Yes he is,” Uaile said, narrowing her eyes. “What, they're in love and both human, even you can't object to that.”

“I know, I know,” Meryndor said irritably. “But did her father really say yes?”

“She was pining for him,” Uaile snapped, glaring at him. “She was off her food, lying in bed all day, crying her eyes out because she missed him. Of course Madanach gave in and said yes. Maybe Cicero's not the son-in-law he exactly wanted, but he makes Eola happy and as long as she's happy, Madanach'll put up with anything else Cicero can throw at him. Because Madanach's a loving father who wants his children to be happy. Some people could stand to learn from that.”

Definitely a very stern glare from the young Reachwoman and Meryndor could cheerfully have strangled her. He was a loving father who wanted his children to be happy! It wasn't his fault Liriel couldn't see past her short-term desires.

“I think I need to feed my daughter and put her to bed,” Meryndor said firmly. “You said there was food ready, yes?”

“Stew in the cauldron,” Uaile said tersely, getting up. “May need reheating, but you can manage that, surely?”

“I think I'll cope,” Meryndor growled as she sauntered out. “Come on, Cali. Let's get some food. I think it's venison stew.”

Ancalime promptly abandoned her dolls and ran after him, now prattling on about her new human friends and how they'd played all afternoon and could she play with them tomorrow, please Daddy, could she?

“I don't know, Cali, I need to speak to your mother about it,” Meryndor sighed, feeling his frustration ready to boil over. On the one hand, absolutely not, these humans were clearly a terrible influence. On the other, he didn't often see her this excited and he knew she'd get bored if he left her to her own devices, and probably seek them out anyway.

“Where is Mamma?” Ancalime asked, looking around and realising Sabrinda wasn't here. “Is she coming home soon?”

And this was the bit he'd dreaded.

“Not tonight, caradiel. She... had to see to something. But she's all right, and I'm going to pick her up in the morning.”

Re: Thicker Than Blood 6.1

[(Anonymous)]

A/N: This chapter. Oh my gods, this chapter. I cried writing it. There was angst. Much angst. Have your tissues to hand.

Various conversations reference bits of Nightshade and Juniper, specifically 5, 6, 17 and I think chapter 10? But if you've read the fic, you'll probably remember them. Ahmul is Dovah for husband.

Summary: The aftereffects of Meryndor's visit prove worse than the conversation itself, as Liriel and Madanach give in to their darker emotions, and Madanach makes a decision that changes everything.

Liriel had fled to their bedroom after that conversation with her father, Madanach could feel her down the empathy bond. At least she'd not witnessed Madanach's argument with her father although he knew she'd have felt his rage.

Madanach was reaching out to her, trying to feel her and all he could sense was heartbreak and misery, like an unending scream in the back of his mind. It probably wasn't far off how he'd been after Kaie died, and that frightened him. No one had died, so what was Liriel grieving?

He knew the most likely answer but he refused to even entertain that thought. Liriel was his wife and she wasn't going anywhere.

“Liriel,” he gasped as he strode into their bedroom, closing the door behind him and looking for her. She was curled up in their bed and he could hear the sobbing from the door. “Liriel, I'm here, it's all right, I'm here...”

He slid on to the bed, curling up behind her, arm around her waist as he held her, kissing her neck and burying his face in her hair. Liriel did not turn to greet him, in fact she seemed to be turning away. It was subtle, but he could sense it, subtle emotional withdrawal as she shut him out.

“Liriel?” he whispered, and it was very very rare anything really frightened the fearsome King of the Reach... but losing his loved ones did it every time. “Liriel, what is it, what did he say to you?”

“You should know, you were eavesdropping,” Liriel said quietly. He'd guessed she'd have noticed and the lack of censure for that pleased him at least.

“He's lying,” Madanach growled. “He was messing with your head, he wants you out of this city and home with him in Alinor. They don't care about you or your happiness, they just want you back home and not showing them up any more.”

“He loved a Reachwoman once,” Liriel whispered. “Met her when he was young, came back for her thirty or forty years later and he hadn't realised humans didn't live long enough for that to ever work...”

“My heart bleeds,” Madanach growled, feeling very little sympathy for a man who'd claimed Liriel dying was better than Liriel with Madanach. Even if the words had been spoken rashly in anger, Madanach stood by his own. Nothing was worse than a child dying. Nothing. “He also said it meant nothing.”

“It always means something!!” Liriel howled, voice rising to a shriek as she slammed a fist into fine cotton sheets and collapsed back again. “It always... means... until it doesn't... gods Madanach, I can't, I can't, I can't be like that, I can't look back on you and...”

“It was just a fling for him,” Madanach whispered, desperately holding on to her, desperately trying to talk her round. “He didn't know the first thing about her or the Reach, they never married. You, you're one of us, you're queen! My queen!”

“And in five hundred years, no one will even remember that,” Liriel gasped through her tears. “No one but me, and who is to say where I'll be? I might not even live here any more.”

“Cariad, no one is going to forget the Dragon-Queen who freed the Reach,” Madanach said, feeling desperately proud of her despite the fear of losing her that wouldn't leave him. “You're a living legend, ceilhina. Red Eagle died thousands of years ago and we never forgot him. He didn't even win. They'll remember a beautiful woman who avenged the Markarth Incident by calling a dragon from the sky and visiting death on the Bear's city in revenge. They'll remember the one who brought the lost heir of the Reach back to us. They'll remember the one who freed their king, restored him to power and to himself, over and over again.”

Re: Thicker Than Blood 6.2

[(Anonymous)]

“Humans have short memories,” Liriel said bitterly. “Short lives. Sithis, Madanach, this isn't fair!”

No, it wasn't, and it was worse for her because at least Madanach wouldn't be alive to know any of it.

“I told them to leave,” Madanach said quietly. “They're leaving Markarth tomorrow. I know they're your family, and your little sister's adorable by the way, you never told me you had a little sister!”

“Didn't think you'd ever meet her,” Liriel said, finally smiling a little. “She's only thirty-two, I thought you'd be long gone by the time I ever saw her again...”

Barely four years younger than Argis. That gave Madanach the shivers. Likely he'd never see the girl again in that case. Which was another thing to hurt out of all this – he'd really liked little Ancalime! And she'd grow up and barely remember him.

“I'll miss her,” Madanach said. “Liriel, if you want to say goodbye tomorrow, I will understand but I want to be there. I am not leaving you alone with your parents, not after this. And then they are leaving. Having them here is breaking your heart and I will not have anyone hurting my wife...”

“It won't change anything!” Liriel cried, rolling over and roughly shoving him away. “You'll still be human and short-lived and all I want is you for the rest of my life! But I can never have that, and all I've got to look forward to is one day in the future where maybe, just maybe, I won't love you any more and you'll just be a memory of some human I had a fling with once!”

“Liriel,” Madanach gasped, reaching out for her, his own heart breaking as she backed away, flinching from his touch and curling up, letting out a little sob as she buried her face in her hands. “Liriel, if that's how it ends up being, it's how it is. I won't be around any more, I won't mind. I hope you do find someone else eventually, I don't want you to be alone.”

Liriel's wail tore at his heart and he could feel the agony pouring off her as she curled up and rocked quietly, tearing at her hair and refusing his touch, his every attempt at comfort.

“Liriel,” Madanach whispered, hand hovering above her. “Cariad, please, don't shut me out, I can't... Liriel, don't leave me. Please.”

“You will leave me one day,” Liriel whispered, voice ragged from all the crying. “And I will have no say in that, Madanach, none! You already told me you don't want vampirism.”

Eternity as a blood-sucking monster and never seeing Kaie or her sisters again. No thanks. Even Liriel wasn't compensation enough and he hated that he couldn't do it... but no. Not even for her.

“So you're shutting me away now. Wasting what time we do have and pushing me away,” Madanach growled, fist clenching as he withdrew in turn, not understanding this or any of it, not knowing why she had to keep thinking about the future, why she couldn't make the most of now while she had it. Why she couldn't be a human who just happened to have golden skin and slanted eyes and beautiful pointed ears?

Liriel sobbed even harder, keening into the sheets, and Madanach was torn between heartbreak and anger, every nerve screaming at him to grab her, shake her, make her look at him, kiss her until she stopped crying.

And just a second too late he remembered the bond worked both ways and she could feel his rage.

“Liriel,” he said hastily. “Liriel, I don't... I'm not going to hurt you, I just want... I just want my wife back...”

“Madanach,” and she sounded quite calm considering he could still feel the heartbreak rising off her. “Madanach, please just go, you're making it worse...”

Yes he probably was, and this was like Mireen all over again, the two of them tearing into each other, all their worst parts feeding into a vicious cycle of resentment and hate, and Madanach began to wonder if maybe Mireen wasn't the harpy he remembered. Maybe he'd driven her mad. Maybe he was just a terrible husband.

Saying nothing, he got up and left, everything feeling cold and dark and one single thought echoing around his head as the part of himself that hated him began whispering its poison.

Liriel was better off without you.

Re: Thicker Than Blood 7.1

[(Anonymous)]

A/N: Still here? After the unremitting angst of last chapter (I'm so sorry) we have an action packed beast this time around. One reviewer called Liriel and Madanach a bipolar couple (to be fair, they're mostly fairly sweet and loving to each other and all is usually fairly calm, but the stories tend to revolve around the emergencies) and you know, I'm starting to wonder if he actually is. He's definitely a bit messed up - twenty years stuck in a cave with only Skooma for entertainment will do that to you, and Madanach was the brilliant but crazy type beforehand... Oh and losing three kids, also not great for the old sanity. Liriel's mostly too young and inexperienced to know any better, but Madanach's definitely got Issues. As you will see.

Warnings: trigger warning for substance abuse. Also, er, Madanach/Sanguine. Sort of. Kinda. Non-explicitly, and it's not entirely clear if it's actually real or just a hallucination. It's a bit weird and a pairing I never thought I'd write, but um, there you go.

Summary: With Liriel gone, Madanach's long suppressed demons finally get the better of him at the worst possible moment, as Liriel goes to confront her parents and learns a few things about her family, from her parents' romantic histories to the lengths they're prepared to go to to save her from herself.

Madanach didn't move as Liriel fled the Keep. He just looked down, staring at the wedding ring she'd left behind, mutely removing his own and placing it next to its twin, all feeling just seeming to cut off. He was barely aware of Liriel's presence in his head growing ever more distant, both physically and emotionally, and Cicero wailing about something or other until Eola grabbed him, snapped at him to calm him down and sent him away... and then his little girl started showing all her mother's famous sympathy and compassion.

“Da, what did you do, what are you doing, don't just sit there, get after her, tell her you're sorry!”

Madanach just poked at the rings. They were pretty, a perfect little pair, and truth be told he'd even found the Restoration boost useful before now. Both for healing injuries to the kids, easing his own aches and pains... and keeping Skooma shakes at bay, a little gift from Mara to help keep him clean.

Mara's magic hadn't worked this time.

“Better this way,” Madanach said softly. Not for him, no, but for Liriel it would be. He'd do anything for Liriel. Including breaking his own heart to set her free.

“What are you talking about, it is not better!” Eola shouted. “She's the most beautiful woman in Skyrim and you just sent her away, damn it, what is wrong with you?”

Nothing. Everything. He was old, tired, going to die soon enough, his marriage had been destroying his wife, he'd failed every child he'd ever raised, the Reach was free and didn't need him any more, and he'd just had enough.

“Damn it, Eola, if you think she's that pretty, go after her yourself, see how easy it is!” Madanach snapped at her. He regretted it immediately, seeing her cheeks flush and the hurt in her eyes.

“Cariad, I'm sorry, I didn't...” Madanach began. Eola shook her head, an odd pinched expression on her face and it was only when Madanach racked his brains to realise where he'd seen it before and remembered her childhood that he realised it was the look she got when she wanted to cry but was hiding it.

“How could you,” Eola whispered, looking utterly betrayed. “After all this... Liriel's one of the best friends I ever had and you just...”

Marrying his daughter's best friend. A truly terrible idea. More than anything he missed Kaie, missed her calming presence and unswerving loyalty, missed the guaranteed hug and tea made for him that Kaie had provided whenever previous Liriel problems had cropped up. But she was gone, and Eola was all he had left, and Eola was as much Liriel's as his.

Re: Thicker Than Blood 7.2

[(Anonymous)]

“And what do you think she was to me, daughter?” Madanach said roughly, trying not to remember how Liriel felt, soft skin next to his, the sound of her voice, the way she smelt, way she tasted and failing miserably. All things he'd never have again, just long lonely years without her. He'd taken that fate from her and brought it on himself. Justice at least.

“You still love her,” Eola whispered. “Tell her you're sorry!”

He was, of course he was, it felt like a part of him had been ripped out. But if it spared her the same in the years to come... Madanach turned and walked away, ignoring Eola's protests completely.

“Get Borkul,” Madanach snapped to one of the nearest ReachGuard. “I want him guarding my bedroom door. No court today. No one comes in or out of that room once I'm in it. Not even Nepos or Eola.”

“Da, what are you doing, I'm your daught- oof!” She'd tried to run after him, but two ReachGuard soldiers had stepped in front of her to bar her way, and while she could easily have killed them, they were just following her father's orders. Because he was king, and despite her Dark Brotherhood ranking, her closeness to Liriel and being his beloved daughter and heir, Eola at the end of the day had to abide by his rule like everyone else. In public anyway.

Eola watched him disappear before turning and running. She'd sent Cicero after Liriel, but with her father being stubborn, she needed help. Time to find Nepos.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“He's seriously throwing us out?”

Sabrinda could barely believe her ears. Only here a day and they were being asked to leave? “Can he do that?”

“It's his city, I rather think he can do whatever he likes,” Meryndor growled, fingering his neck, still a little sore after being slammed into Dwemer stonework by a man who clearly had not lost any of his physical strength despite advancing years. “He didn't specify what would happen if we weren't out of here by tonight, but I imagine it won't be pleasant. Best case scenario is if the ReachGuard haul us to the border by force and leave us there.”

Sabrinda didn't ask what the worst case scenario was. She didn't need to, she'd carried it out often enough. At least Madanach probably wouldn't kill Ancalime, and while she detested the idea of anyone of her blood living in this heathen land, Liriel would probably do as good a job as any of raising her sister.

That was if the Thalmor didn't kill her first. Sabrinda might be furious with her daughter, but that didn't mean the thought of her dying didn't hurt.

“But... he can't,” Sabrinda whispered, sinking into a chair. “We've not... I barely saw her, Meryn! Hardly had a chance... Meryn, we can't leave her here, Elenwen will...!” Sabrinda stopped, aware of Ancalime playing in her room and Uaile in the back room.

“I know,” Meryndor said quietly, sitting across the Dwemer table from his wife and squeezing her hand. Despite his intemperate words to Madanach, he didn't want to see Liriel dead either. He wanted his little Liri-bella back, his sweet innocent little princess. But the princess had become a queen, and the king involved was neither a good man nor a safe one. Meryndor hated the thought of him with his hands all over Liriel and couldn't decide what was worse, Liriel hating every minute or actually enjoying it.

“Could we leave and come back in secret – no, no, that's no good, they'd see through illusions for sure, they do actually know their magic,” Sabrinda sighed. “Gods, if they'd just let me talk to her...”

The sound of a key in the door and the door opening and closing. Both Sabrinda and Meryndor fell quiet. While both were sure Madanach had a key to this place, probably more than one, neither felt comfortable with his people just walking in whenever they felt like it.

“This is a private residence, stranger,” Sabrinda called out tersely. “State your business or leave.”

Pause. And then a voice both knew well and had hardly dared hope to hear.

“I know that, Mother, it's my bloody house.”

Re: Thicker Than Blood 8.1

[(Anonymous)]

A/N: And after last chapter, we have now hit rock bottom and can now start climbing back up. Much like Madanach's going to have to, hem hem.

Trigger warning for substance abuse and after-effects, specifically Madanach on the tail end of a Skooma trip. Not to mention Lucia witnessing all this and really needing a cuddle.

Summary: The Reach's Queen is missing and the Reach responds - or at least it would if the commander-in-chief hadn't rendered himself completely incapable of responding to anything. With very few options left, it's time to resort to drastic measures - and when your king's got an addiction problem, staging an intervention takes on a whole new meaning.

Vlindrel Hall was locked and Cicero didn't have his key on him. Knocking and calling out to Liriel didn't work either.

“Do you think she is sleeping?” Lucia whispered.

“Sleeping? Of course she is not sleeping, she hardly ever sleeps during the day unless she has been up all night, and she slept last night eventually,” Cicero growled, resuming the hammering on the door. “Listener? LISTENER! IT IS CICERO! OPEN THE DOOR! PLEEEAAASE?” Cicero fluttered his eyelashes at the unmoving door and pouted, despite the fact that no one inside could see it. “PLLLLEEEEEEEAAAASE? Cicero is WORRIIIIIIEEEED!”

Still no answer. Cicero huffed and kicked the door.

“Bother and befuddle. She does not answer. Why does she not ANSWER?”

Lucia shrank back, a little afraid of Cicero when he was like this.

“Does anyone else have a key?” she whispered. “Does Da have a spare?”

Cicero stopped, looking up and giggling, smacking his forehead. “Of course, of course! Foolish Cicero! Cicero still has the spare key the Reach-King gave him! Sweet child, dear child, do not worry, just wait here. Cicero will return to the Keep and fetch it.”

So Lucia waited and it was nearly half an hour later by the time Cicero returned, brandishing the key and unlocking the door with a flourish, bouncing in without a care.

“Listener, Listener, dearest Listener, Cicero is here!” Cicero cooed as he pranced into the house. “Your dear brother is here to tend to you in your hour of need. Listener, oh Listener, where are youuuu?”

Lucia followed him, looking about her at the house that had once been home. She'd first come here with Argis, scared and tired and hungry after being taken prisoner by the Dark Brotherhood, missing her mother and wondering who that strange old wizard in the furs and bone had been and why his soldiers had come to rescue them. He'd said he was a king but Lucia knew there weren't any kings in Skyrim, not since King Torygg had been killed. So she'd not let her guard down for a second and by the time she got to Markarth and the soldiers had melted off into the wilds, she'd been exhausted. Then she'd got a cold not long after and her first few days in this house had been spent mostly in bed while Argis had made her soup and read her stories and by the time she felt better, Sissel had settled right in and Argis at least had proved beyond doubt he was a nice man.

Now that old wizard was king in truth and her father, and Argis lived in Solitude with his wife Queen Elisif, and Lucia hadn't really lived here long enough to really call the place home... but all the same she had fond memories of the place. So she looked around... and as Cicero knelt down next to a semi-conscious Uaile, Lucia saw the silver and sapphire magicka-boosting circlet that the College of Winterhold had given her mother lying on the floor and she knew her mother was in trouble.

“Uaile? Uaile, why are you lying on the floor, the floor is not for sleeping on! Wakey-wakey!” Cicero cooed as he shook her shoulder.

Uaile's eyes barely fluttered open as Cicero shook her but she did see the jester hat and pawed at the motley.

“Gar'lan,” she murmured. “Gar'lan, need... stop them... Brenhina...” Uaile fell back into unconsciousness in Cicero's arms and Cicero took his hand away, seeing blood all over it from where he'd been cupping her head.

Re: Thicker Than Blood 8.2

[(Anonymous)]

“You are bleeding,” he whispered, going pale. “You are injured, you hit your head when you fell... you fell.” Cicero let her go and got up, racing into the back room, mind suddenly realising what had been wrong when he watched the Altmer family go. Lucia clutched the circlet she was holding to her, staring in horror at Uaile, talented ReachGuard warrior and personal assistant to Nepos himself, prostrate on the floor and injured, and Lucia knew her mother wasn't here.

“Cicero,” Lucia whispered as she followed him into the master bedroom. “Cicero, I found this. It's Mama's...” She stopped, watching Cicero stare at the bed and the lighter patch on the floor that marked where a chest used to be.

“Three chests,” Cicero said softly. “They had three big chests when they left, and a little one for Ancalime. But when they came, they only had two! Because they have taken a third from the Listener's house.” He turned to face her, smile gone, lips curled back in cold fury, dark eyes blazing out of a pale face and Lucia whimpered, terrified. Cheerful, lovable Cicero had gone and this man was capable of anything. He lowered his eyes to the circlet in Lucia's hands and while his expression barely changed, something in his manner made Lucia want to turn and run. But she was a Dragonborn's daughter, and she stood her ground.

“They have taken the Listener,” Cicero breathed. “Sweet Liriel's parents have taken my Listener. Oh how they will pay!”

“Cicero?” Lucia whispered, and he was actually going to kill someone, Lucia knew it, he was dangerous, really dangerous and oh gods, no one else knew she was here with him... “Cicero, Uaile's hurt, we need to help her...”

Cicero stared at her for a few seconds, as if she'd said something quite stupid. Then he laughed, shrugged and ran to the Reachwoman's side.

“Of course, of course! We must take her to a healer, yes, to the duty healer at the Keep. Come, come, sweet Lucia must follow Cicero! Cicero must tell the Reach-King this and then he needs his mace and his crossbow and armour and more daggers and poison and potions and various little trinkets and... yes. There is no time to lose, come!”

Cicero ran back into the kitchen, scooped Uaile up in his arms and raced for the door. Clutching her mother's circlet in her hands, Lucia had no choice but to follow. Mama gone, Cicero scaring her, Uaile hurt... Lucia didn't know what was going on. She was ten years old and terrified. But her father was back at the Keep. Da would make it all go away, wouldn't he?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cicero had raced into the Keep, turning left into one of the many side passages and into the open all hours clinic that Madanach had opened in the first year of his kingship, emergency treatment free for all and non-emergency treatment free for all citizens of the Reach and any child regardless of nationality. All that was required was a tolerance of magic and experimental medical techniques and the occasional willingness to submit oneself as a participant in whatever magical research was going on that week.

Unless of course you were the Steward's right-hand woman and your father was the Field-Marshal of the ReachGuard, in which case everyone dropped everything to deal with the problem. Cicero left Uaile on one of the beds while about five Forsworn healers descended on her.

“What happened?” the healer in charge snapped at Cicero. “How'd she get like this?”

“Cicero found her lying on the floor of the Listener's house,” Cicero shrugged. “Cicero thinks she fell or was hit on the head. Possibly drugged. Now Cicero has brought her, Cicero needs to leave. The Listener is in trouble.” With that, he turned and walked away. Anyone other than the Garra-Lann and the healers would have ordered him stopped but they all knew not to push him without the King or Queen or Princess being around. Someone had already run to find one of them. Lucia, unsure what to do now, trailed after Cicero, who was heading for his room.

“Wait, where are you going?” Lucia cried. “Mama's out there and in trouble!”

Cicero stopped and turned to her, and something approximating kindness appeared in his smile.

Re: Thicker Than Blood 9.1

[(Anonymous)]

A/N: Posting this because it's done and I may need to marshal my resources for the next one. This is the preparatory one before all the Void breaks loose, in which we check in with Liriel, and Madanach starts organising the rescue mission. Also managed to get in a bit of State of the Reach stuff as well - Madanach may have convinced himself he wasn't an addict but he knew half his core team were and little does he realise it but he's managed to create the best country in the world to be a Skooma addict in. Bastard only brought in socialised health care, didn't he. :)

Summary: Madanach's still coming to terms with Cidhna Mine's legacy, and the realisation that even getting Liriel back from her parents may not be enough to save his marriage. But he's still the man who led two uprisings, and he's got more than one adult child willing to help. Meanwhile, unbeknown to him, Liriel's far from helpless... and she's far from willing to abandon her marriage just yet.

Notes on the Rhanic:

Saorseach - Liberator
Breithan y Angwethai - Breaker of Shackles (shades of Daenerys, but it's not a title they gave to Liriel!)
Slan Gwasanaeth (y Rhan) - Health Service (also known as the Reach Health Service or SGR)

Madanach hadn't moved so fast in his life. Vampire Royal gear – check. Matching gloves and boots, the gauntlets with a magicka enhancing enchantment on them and the boots with a slightly stronger version of the usual Forsworn sneaking enchantment – check. Wedding rings – check. Liriel's circlet and torc – check. That ebony Dragon Priest mask from Skuldafn, bit heavy for Madanach but he liked the enchantments – check. Staff of Magnus for those little magicka emergencies – check. Liriel's pack with all her potions and oddments in it, or at least all the actually useful ones anyway – check. Liriel's fancy Daedric bow and a nice selection of arrows for Borkul – check. Chillrend and Spellbreaker for Borkul – check. Food and drink for the journey – check, in fact some bread and cheese to settle his stomach sounded quite a good idea. A week's worth of anti-Skooma medicines – what?

“Healers left them for you until you can sit down with them and work out a proper treatment schedule,” Borkul said grimly. “There's some painkillers and general healing potions to take when needed, some poison treatments – twice a day for the next three days, starting tomorrow, and those are your anti-Skooma meds. One every morning. You take anything with moon sugar in it, it'll make you ill. Really ill. Ill enough you won't be getting anything positive out of the experience. Trust me on that.”

Madanach looked at the little blue vials. He knew what they were of course, the saving grace of half his High Command, the thing Uraccen and Braig and Odvan and Duach all swore had helped them kick the habit. Apparently it was a lot easier to stay clean when you knew you actually couldn't take the stuff. There was also something in it that was apparently similar to Skooma but not addictive and didn't give the same high, that tricked your body into thinking you'd had some.

Re: Thicker Than Blood 9.2

[(Anonymous)]

But I don't want to! I want the real thing... Or at least, he wanted something to wrap round him like a warm blanket and make him feel cared for again, being able to just let go and trust everything was all right and that someone loved him.

“How long exactly am I supposed to be on these for?” Madanach sighed.

“For as long they're needed,” Borkul growled. “A year. A decade. The rest of your fucking life. Until you're not an addict any more.” He leaned closer, Orc eyes looking even more intimidating than most as he growled in Madanach's ear. “And you don't ever really stop being one of those.”

“I just took one little bottle-!” Madanach protested, then flinched back at the stony look on Borkul's face.

“Yeah, and your wife's ended up stuffed in a trunk and carted off back to Alinor as a result,” Borkul said firmly. “So take the damn potions with you, take them like your life depends on it. Because it does. And so does Liriel's, and your kids' lives, including Eola who doesn't think she needs anyone, and the lives of every single person in this country, because you are the damn Reach-King and we need you.”

“Not any more,” Madanach said bitterly, and that was what really rankled. After all the work, founding the Forsworn, leading the rebellion, not once but twice, and they could just kick him out like this. His own kin and his best friend.

“Hey,” and Borkul's voice had got gentler as he turned Madanach around, lifting his face up to look at him and to Madanach's surprise, the Orc was actually smiling. “Listen to me. You're only temporarily relieved. You'll be back in that throne before you know it. And anyway, you think you're completely on the scrapheap? They don't just call you Reach-King, boss. It's more than that. Saorseach, they call you. Breithan y Angwethai. You're the bastard who broke out of the prison they say no one ever got out of. You're not just a king, you're a damn legend.”

Liberator. Breaker of Shackles. How ironic he'd freed his country but not himself.

“I'm still not out of it, Borkul,” Madanach said, mentally cursing the Nords for everything they'd done to him, and wasn't this the last laugh – the one who'd brought them down brought down in turn by the Skooma addiction their bloody prison had left him with.

“Maybe not,” Borkul said, hands on Madanach's shoulders. “But you got us all out of there, had your Forsworn alchemists and Matriarchs working on anti-Skooma treatments, set that clinic up in the Keep with healers all trained to deal with Skooma troubles. You've talked me through enough relapses this last year and a half, same with young Odvan and the others, set the laws up and the policies that keep the stuff away from us, made it hard to track down Skooma even when we want it. Most other rulers just imprison dealers or send them on their way to the next province. Not you, oh no, you have the bastards impaled along the roadside or send the Dark Brotherhood in to investigate at the merest hint of a Skooma operation setting up in or near our borders. And anywhere else in Tamriel, addicts just get left to suffer. Fuck it, everywhere else it's perfectly legal to sack someone for Skooma addiction. You set up a rehabilitation programme and it's free for anyone who settles in the Reach after or already lives here. Wujeeta who runs the New Hroldan Inn, Niluva Hlaalu at the clinic – they both say your Slan Gwasanaeth turned their lives around.”

Madanach did remember both women arriving together – Wujeeta claiming Liriel had helped her once but the craving wouldn't go away, they'd heard the Reach could cure the addiction, please, they'd do anything, they'd sold all they had to get here, please...

Re: Thicker Than Blood 10.1

[(Anonymous)]

A/N: My word, this chapter. This is where the action happens. I suspect you won't have seen any of this coming. There is angst and fighting and drama and blood.

Summary: Cicero is homing in on his prey and Madanach and Argis are leading their rescue party to intercept. But Skyrim is a dangerous place, and an unexpected foe changes everything.

Notes:

Ahmul - Dovah for husband

Agar y agarma - blood of my blood, traditional means of referring to one's sworn brother or sister.

One moment the carriage had been trundling along the road as the sun set. The next they'd been on them. Like elves but surely not, pale pasty white skin, smelling vile and no eyes. That was what stayed with Sabrinda the most – no eyes but they could clearly sense her well enough. She had a horrible feeling they were either using Detect Life... or they could smell her.

There'd been arrows. There'd been magic. There'd been vicious blades carved of some chitinous material. There'd been what seemed like dozens of them.

She'd fought. Her guards had fought. Meryndor had grabbed Cali and shoved her to the bottom of the carriage, shielding her and warding them both. But there'd been too many. Her guards had died, their driver had died, the horse had died screaming. She'd never get the sound out of her head.

Then they'd gone for the trunk with Liriel in it and Sabrinda had snapped, firing off spell after spell, using the gift of the Highborn to recharge her magicka, not stopping for a second. It hadn't been enough. They'd used the trunk as a shield and she'd not dared hitting it, and they'd used that, grabbing the trunk, hauling it off the carriage and then swarming the carriage while three of the feral beasts had carted it off. Sabrinda had shrieked abuse at them even while hurling fireballs at them. She'd been too crazed to realise they'd climbed on the carriage behind her... at least until Ancalime's screams rent the air.

“MAMMA! MAMMA!”

“CALI!” Sabrinda screamed, turning around just in time to see one of the foul creatures snatch up her little girl and disappear into the darkness, but Ancalime's screams kept on echoing off the cliffs. Their goal apparently achieved, the remaining fiends decided the dangerous one with the powerful Destruction spells was best left for another day, and as one they vanished into the night.

“CALI!” Sabrinda howled again, and them taking Liriel was one thing, but not her baby, not her little Ancalime, she was helpless, innocent, and why hadn't Meryndor stopped them... oh gods, Meryn...

He was lying on the floor of the carriage, staring up at her, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, arrows piercing his skin... and a horrific chest wound with blood pouring out of it.

“MERYN!” Sabrinda cried, dropping to her knees and reaching for the wound, heedless of the blood on her robes, dear Auriel, so much blood... but she could save him, she could seal the wound, she could...

He was staring at her, clearly in agony, trying to say something... and then the light seemed to fade out of those beautiful golden eyes as he slumped to the floor, eyes as sightless as the elves that had killed him.

“Meryn?” Sabrinda whispered, shaking his shoulder, Restoration spells flaring, she could fix this, right? Right? He couldn't be gone, not like this, not again, he was her husband, her soul mate, the father of her children, companion, friend and lover for four centuries, he couldn't be gone, he wasn't!

Re: Thicker Than Blood A/N and Summary

[(Anonymous)]

A/N: After the intensity of last chapter, this one is a little slower paced, and is the one where Liriel and Madanach finally have a serious talk about everything. It's a testimony as to how strong their bond actually is that they're still together by the end of it...

Summary: In the aftermath of everything, Liriel has to come to terms with not just her father's death but with what the whole incident has done to her marriage. With Madanach in a confessional mood, Liriel's got a lot to deal with - but dragons don't lightly give up what they've claimed as theirs.

Hours later, Liriel woke up, gasping his name as she reached out to her husband, and Madanach took her into his arms without a second thought, holding on to her as she shivered in his arms.

“Cali, oh gods, Cali, they had Cali,” Liriel gasped, too terrified to think of anything else but her little sister screaming.

“She's fine,” Madanach murmured. “We found her, she's fine, she's staying at the Blue Palace.”

“Mamma was there, she was fighting,” Liriel whispered, subsiding a little on knowing her sister was OK.

“She's fine too, she's with your sister,” Madanach reassured her, hoping she wouldn't ask the next question but knowing she was going to.

“Cali said... said they'd hurt Daddy,” Liriel whispered, voice trembling, and Madanach held her closer, bracing himself for this one.

“He didn't make it. I'm so sorry, cariad,” Madanach said quietly, kissing the top of her head and feeling his heart break as his Liriel, his tough, strong, brave Dragonborn, broke down in his arms, sobbing her heart out as she clung on to him. Madanach said nothing, just made little reassuring noises, feeling horrible and a little guilty, although most of him held Meryndor and Sabrinda responsible for their own troubles. Eventually Liriel cried herself back to sleep, and Madanach eventually drifted off with her cradled in his arms.

When he awoke once more, it was to Liriel clinging on to him, crying again, and it was all he could do to hold her and soothe her, feeling her grief and doing his best to send love back. It seemed to work. Liriel finally dried her eyes, nestling in his arms and feeling so very very fragile.

“It really happened, didn't it,” she whispered. “Daddy's gone. He and Mamma kidnapped me. And... you sent me away.”

“Yes,” Madanach admitted. “I'm so sorry. Don't leave me. I love you, I still want you as my wife, I just... can't bear seeing you so unhappy because of me.”

Silence. A pause and then joy of joys, Liriel snuggling closer.

“You're a fucking idiot, Madanach.”

“Yes,” Madanach said softly, heart leaping for joy as he felt the answering response from her and knew he was forgiven for that at least. “Yes, these last couple of days have made that abundantly obvious. What you still see in me remains a mystery.”

Soft laughter from her. “You were there when I needed you,” Liriel whispered. “You came and got me, you still loved me, you were terrified you'd lose me, I could feel it. And you never once have lied to me – Madanach, my parents lied to me!”

She looked up, a child's pout on her face and Madanach couldn't help but smile. Although he had no doubt the grievance was genuine, he also sensed it wasn't her rational adult side that was offended the most.

“What did they tell you?” he asked.

“They told me Altmer only love once, they meet the mer of their dreams, fall in love, the other one loves them back and then they get married and live happily ever after and when one dies, the other mourns them forever and never loves anyone else, and that anything else is meaningless! And it wasn't true even for them!” Liriel looked positively outraged, little furrow appearing between her eyebrows that only ever appeared when she was annoyed and that Madanach had always secretly found adorable.

“Was it not?” Madanach murmured, stroking her hair and waiting with bated breath to hear the rest of this. He had a feeling it was going to be highly entertaining. “I know your father had a fling with Kaie ap Faolan many years ago, but that was all it was to him, right?”

Re: Thicker Than Blood 12.1

[(Anonymous)]

A/N: The pace is slowing down a bit now as we approach the final chapters. After this one, I'd say we have about three more to go, roughly.

One reviewer expressed surprise at Madanach not having said anything to Liriel about the pregnancy despite the presence of his granddaughter. He has indeed been brooding on it constantly but fortunately has sufficient self-control not to say anything yet - his reasoning being that Liriel has enough on her plate what with just having lost her father. But it's coming, don't worry.

Dawnguard spoilers in this one too. Also a bit of slightly rough sex involving dirty talk and biting and dom!Madanach.

Summary: Sabrinda's hearing produces mixed results, with Liriel finding herself in the judge's chair after realising she's the official Reach representative post-regency. But one revelation has knock-on effects for Madanach, and the results lead to an emotional conversation with Liriel and a decision that will change everything.

The meeting took place in one of the chambers in the re-opened Pelagius Wing, Elisif holding closed court to decide what to do with Sabrinda. Not a formal criminal case, of course, that would involve pressing charges, at which point Elenwen would get involved and everything would go to the Void. No, this was just a meeting to decide where everyone went from here.

The fact that Sabrinda was sitting apart from everyone else with two big burly Haafingar guards at her back was just for the Justiciar's own safety, of course.

Elisif was sitting in an improvised throne of sorts, with Sabrinda off on the left-hand side, Argis at her right, Madanach and Liriel opposite, Borkul and Jordis standing guard behind them, and Cicero nowhere in sight, having been packed off to entertain Ancalime while the grown-ups were talking.

“Good to see you up and about, Liriel,” Elisif said gently. “We were all so worried. Thank Mara you're well again.”

“Thank you, Elisif,” Liriel replied, blushing a little. “I'm feeling a lot better now. I've had better weeks, I really have.”

“I'm sure you have,” Elisif said sympathetically. “Not every day you get abducted by your own parents, after all.”

“We did not abduct-!” Sabrinda cried, falling silent on receiving a chilling glare from Elisif.

“You by your own admission threw her in a trunk, tied her up and took her from her home city by force,” Elisif snapped. “Sounds like abduction to me!”

“She would have left anyway, Madanach had asked for a divorce!” Sabrinda protested. Elisif and Argis as one turned to Liriel and Madanach for confirmation of this.

“We argued,” Madanach said stiffly. “It is possible that rash words were said that weren't meant. But Liriel and I have talked and we're not getting a divorce. I love Liriel, I don't want her to go.”

Smiles from High Queen and Consort and Elisif continued.

“That's good to hear. But regardless of the state of her marriage and if Liriel was planning to leave anyway – that doesn't change the fact you and Meryndor did in fact cast paralysing magic on one of my Thanes and take her by force. Sabrinda, I hope you realise that under Skyrim law, that's a lengthy prison sentence.”

“Under Reach law, it's the death penalty,” Madanach said quietly, glaring at Sabrinda. “Liriel's not just any old citizen, she's a member of our royal family, it's an offence against the state. And the abduction took place in Markarth.”

“Extraditing you back to Markarth for a trial is an option, Sabrinda,” said Elisif calmly. “Although I'm sure the Embassy will intervene should a formal charge be brought – but that would be Madanach's problem.”

“Not right now, it wouldn't be,” Liriel said cheerfully. “Due to Madanach rendering himself unfit for duty via substance ingestion while the abduction was going on, there's presently a regency arrangement in force, although I'd prefer that didn't leave this room.”

“Substance ingestion?” Elisif said, confused. “What, you were drowning your sorrows on that jenever stuff? That's a bit harsh.”

Re: Thicker Than Blood 13.1

[(Anonymous)]

A/N: Massive Dawnguard spoilers in this one, I'm so sorry, I should have possibly flagged this up a little earlier. Although I'm guessing most of you who are going to have played it by now, right?

Summary: Sabrinda starts her exile, unaware her arrival had more of an impact than she realises. Meanwhile, it's time for Liriel and Madanach to go home and for Madanach to face both the consequences of his actions and his heir to the throne. However, there's another threat awaiting them... but the Reach will always look after its own.

Sabrinda staggered through the glacial ravine, clutching the ewer to her, trying not to spill any of it, and how had her daughter managed this, how?? And fighting two dragons and the Falmer along the way, not really knowing where she was going to boot. Sabrinda's image of Liriel as a helpless and immature child who didn't know what was best for her had taken a knock the first time she'd seen her kill a dragon and had been on shaky ground ever since, but she'd seen an adult before her in the Blue Palace and having to undergo this ordeal of Auriel... Sabrinda's respect for her daughter couldn't have been higher.

At least now the Reachmen had come in and cleared out the Falmer – Snow Elf, did it mean? Sabrinda refused to think of those things that had killed her beloved Meryndor as elves – and former Falmer dwellings had been either abandoned or scoured clean and occupied by fur-clad Reachmen and women. There were even children here. Sabrinda had to hand it to them, the Vale was pretty, and they'd done well for themselves, even built a small town in the Vale's warmer southern reaches, a growing settlement called Baila Siantri – Chantryville.

But none of them would help someone clearly on the pilgrim's trail to the Inner Sanctum, other than to offer quiet words of encouragement and the occasional discreet healing spell. So through the ice and snow and glacial crevasses Sabrinda went, the ewer growing heavier at each wayshrine and honestly Sabrinda felt like she was about to collapse.

Then the last shrine and there it was up ahead, architecture like nothing Sabrinda had ever seen, and despite the scaffolding where it was clearly being rebuilt after some accident or possibly decades of neglect, it looked beautiful. Like a gift of Auriel himself.

Auriel help me, I'm coming.

Sabrinda staggered over the bridge and up the stairs and then, thank Auriel, the sacred bowl right there, waiting to receive the gift she'd been given. Auriel's wisdom, an increasing burden when hoarded, but once shared, capable of nourishing all creation. Sabrinda poured it out, feeling the relief as the ewer emptied and the doors opened. And as she staggered in, collapsing to her knees, it was as if one of Auriel's Aedra was standing over her, welcoming her home.

“Sister,” he said quietly. “Welcome.”

“Thank you,” Sabrinda whispered, feeling her grief and pain fade away as she realised it was going to be all right, Auriel would care for her husband and for her too if she let him, and she'd see Ancalime again one day. Secure in the love of Auriel, she closed her eyes and passed out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is not going to work, Liriel.”

They'd carried Sabrinda to a small side room in the Chantry and tucked her up in bed. Various Forsworn healers had been in and out, and the ex-Justiciar was now fast asleep, watched over by Knight-Paladin Gelebor, reluctant leader of the revived cult of Auriel, and Liriel Dragonborn, an important figure in the cult's developing theology even if she didn't visit all that often.

“Why not?” Liriel sighed. “You've been complaining for weeks about being the only mer here, so I brought you one. She's a daughter of Auriel who lost her way and her husband and needed spiritual guidance, so I thought of you. What's the problem?”

“The problem?? Liriel, I'm a Knight-Paladin of Auriel!” Gelebor snapped. “I'm sworn to celibacy!”

“And?” Liriel said, confused. “She's a grieving widow, she won't want anyone else. Anyway, it's not like you've not fathered half the young babies in Baila Siantri.”

Re: Thicker Than Blood 14.1

[(Anonymous)]

A/N: NEARLY THE END! I have actually finished it, the next chapter after this is definitely the last. This one wraps up most of the loose ends for you, although not everything, it must be said. As the next chapter is done, you will not have to wait too long for it.

Summary: The Regency wasn't intended to last forever, but there's a few formalities first. Meanwhile Elisif is wondering if she was perhaps a bit harsh on Madanach, and Liriel isn't going to stay pregnant forever...

Warnings for childbirth (but not in any way that detailed) and, er, implied cannibalism involving the Ring of Namira.

One month later, and Madanach as promised had been a model husband and father. He'd not missed a dose of any of his anti-Skooma meds. He'd attended regularly weekly Skooma addict support groups and weekly sessions with a Forsworn mind-healer. Erandur had finally arrived in week three and started regular one-on-one counselling with Madanach as well, and it seemed to be going well.

Lucia and Sissel had both been a bit clingier than usual, but with Madanach around as almost full-time father for once, things had gone better than they might have. Lucia in particular had spent a lot of time alone with Madanach, quietly asking him what had actually happened, and Madanach, having taken on board the whole making amends to anyone the addiction had hurt bit of the programme, had answered her questions, from “what is Skooma?” to “why did you take it in the first place if you knew it was addictive?” to “were you and Mama really going to stop being married?” Difficult conversations to have, but Lucia hugged him afterwards and thanked him and told him grown-ups normally didn't like telling children what was really going on, but she was glad he had.

“And how are you ever going to be able to trust me again if I lie to you, hmm?” Madanach had told her, smoothing back her hair as she'd cuddled him.

“I do trust you,” Lucia whispered, kissing him on the cheek. “I'm just worried about you.”

“So are a lot of other people, and they're going to help keep me healthy. It's not all on you, bachgen,” Madanach had said, feeling anxious and guilty and touched all at once. Lucia had hugged him tighter.

“That's not what I meant,” Lucia said, clinging on to him. “I don't want you to die!”

“Not for a long time yet,” Madanach had said softly, quietly promising yet again he'd stay clean for Lucia's sake if nothing else.

Sissel had turned out to be mostly fine and much reassured by seeing her father apparently healthy, around a lot more and still apparently very much in love with her mother, and the personal magic tuition pretty much sealed the deal. Ancalime joined in with the lessons, very excited to actually learn some proper hands-on magic that could actually do some damage, and if Cicero's influence had gone horribly horribly deep, at least it meant she was smiling again.

“I'm gonna be the best at magic and weapons and sneaking and stabbing and I'm gonna kill ALL the Falmer and no one's mamma or daddy's ever going to die again!” Ancalime announced, cheerfully watching as a training dummy went up in flames.

“Yes, yes!” Cicero cackled. “The sweet little elfling is certainly very good at it. Maybe little Ancalime lost her real father, but the Dread Father will be very proud of her!”

“All right, perhaps that's enough fire today,” Madanach had said hastily. “Right, illusion magic. A much neglected school but with practice you too will be able to do things like this.” One spell later and Cicero was lying on the floor, staring into space and cooing at nothing. No one hurt and Cicero quiet for ten minutes, a result in Madanach's book.

Re: Thicker Than Blood 15.1

[(Anonymous)]

A/N: LAST CHAPTER EVERYONE. I'm feeling a little emotional, but this was a lot of fun to write and a high to go out on. There's essentially two halves to this one, the first being the turning of Madanach, and then the rest is a sort of epilogue that basically tells the rest of the story and what happens to them all. The final scene's actually set a good six hundred years after the Dragon Year.

Machara means my friend.

Summary: Caradach's reached his first birthday and the Reach Court are celebrating - but his father's also another year older and he's starting to feel it. With Madanach's mortality getting increasingly more obvious, it's time to take steps to halt the process.

One year later

“Tired?”

“Yes. Very. I have had to wrangle one twelve year old, one ten year old, your sister, your mother, my sister, my daughter and Cicero. Nepos has been no help whatsoever. You have been not as helpful as you could have been, if I'm honest.”

“What, me?” Liriel said, brow furrowing. “I was tending to our son!”

“Yes, you got the fun bits,” Madanach glowered. “You got to sit around and dote on the little one and be praised by all and sundry on what a lovely baby you have, while I got to spend the day supervising four pain in the backside children.”

“Four?”

“I was including Cicero.”

Liriel swatted him playfully. They were making their way back to their quarters in the Keep, Caradach having been handed back to his nanny and the older children by now banished to their bedrooms – Lucia now deemed old enough to have her own while Sissel and Cali still shared one. Eola had steered Cicero off somewhere and neither Liriel nor Madanach were inclined to think any further on what they might be getting up to. Today had been Reach-Prince Caradach's first birthday, and while his parents had kept it low-key, they'd also wanted to fuss over their boy. So a trip out for a family picnic at Karthspire it had been, and all had thoroughly enjoyed themselves, despite Madanach's complaints.

“You told them a couple of stories then packed them all off to play on their own and Eola and Jordis ended up doing most of the supervising,” Liriel reminded him. “You spent most of the day enjoying the sunshine and fussing over Caradach more than I was.”

Caradach ap Madanach, one year old and while well behind what a human baby would be expected to be doing, was quite advanced by Altmer standards, according to Sabrinda anyway. She and Madanach were never likely to ever get on that well, but she was making an effort with everyone else, particularly Sissel and Lucia, and had proven invaluable over the past year. Liriel hadn't realised just quite how hard parenting a baby was, even with servants to help and a husband who was quite ruthless in firmly taking the responsibility off Liriel when she was tired, either taking over himself or finding someone else to. Liriel had never been more glad to have him, but she wasn't blind either. Madanach was sixty two now, sixty three this summer, and he was starting to show his age. Using Restoration magic more often to stave off the pains of old age, not playing with the children as often because it just wore him out in a way it never had the first time round. Getting ill more often with seriously nasty chest infections, a legacy of inhaling rock dust for twenty years, and that worried Liriel the most. Her husband was ageing, mortal, and while he could in theory live into his eighties or nineties, he'd only get frailer. She'd already seen him say no to weapons training the kids, saying Cicero was much better at it than he was, he should do it, and he'd later admitted he just couldn't hold a war axe like he used to.

Liriel knew Madanach had carved Thongvor's head off without even flinching when they'd taken the city nearly four years ago. He'd still been a capable warrior then and he was still a very capable mage and ruler now... but for how much longer? He already needed Dwemer lenses in frames over his eyes to read properly, another legacy of trying to run a rebellion from a cave for twenty years.

No, they needed to do this now, before Madanach's body gave in completely.