The Amulet and the Greatsword, Part 5

Lydia didn't make it to the Dragonborn's wedding, but others did. Aerin sat on Mjoll's side of the temple and smiled sweetly throughout the ceremony. On Almarie's side were the Valerians, a sister and brother who ran a store in Riverwood. A bard named Sven and an archer named Faendal were in attendance, too, but Almarie wasn't sure if they were there for her, or if they were Carmilla Valerian's dates.

After the ceremony, Mjoll approached her new wife to talk about where they'd live. "You could live with me," Mjoll suggested. Almarie was so charmed by the warm, cheerful, open way Mjoll had put forth the offer that she replied "Living with you would be perfect," before finding out where Mjoll actually lived.

As it turned out, Mjoll hadn't left Aerin's home since he'd rescued her from the Dwemer centurion. "I've never been a sellsword," Mjoll explained. "Never traded my skills for pay. I've always adventured on my own terms."

"I admire your principle," Almarie said as she looked around the small bedroom at the top of the stairs.

"That's my bed," said Aerin, who'd followed them. "I gave Mjoll the master bedroom. And the double bed. And the good linens. And the good dresser."

"Yes, Aerin has been such a wonderful friend to me," Mjoll beamed. "He's like the brother I never had."

"Hey, Aerin, you don't mind if I store this giant's toe, dragon bone, human flesh, and human heart in your end table, do you?" said Almarie.

"Of course not," said Aerin. "Any...wife...of Mjoll's is a housemate of mine."

Mjoll's bedroom was a nice one, much nicer than the master bedroom in Breezehome, which Almarie still hadn't gotten around to decorating. Beds weren't particularly important to her, since she was a werewolf, and got no rest from slumber. A simple potion was better for her than a night's rest any day.

Nevertheless, she had still intended to spend the night in her new wife's bed. And she had not intended for her new wife's roommate to be sitting up in the chair next to it all night. "Um...so...what time do you usually go to bed?" Almarie finally asked around midnight.

"Not for another couple of hours," Mjoll said. "I've always been a creature of the night. The better to hunt vampires, I suppose," she smiled. Aerin said nothing, but stayed in his chair showing no intention of moving.

"It's been a big day. How about if we go to bed now?" said Almarie. "Just for tonight?" she added, glancing from Aerin to the door and back again, somehow unable to get out the words, Can you please go back to your own room on the other side of this wall so I can get in bed with my wife?

"Of course, dear," said Mjoll. Aerin still showed no signs of moving. Almarie got in bed first, hoping he'd get the hint. She blacked out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

*

When she woke up, she was not in the master bedroom of Aerin's house. She was on a dirt floor in an old shack, and a strange hooded woman in skin-tight armor was looking down on her from atop an old shelf.

"Who are you? How did I get here? And where in Oblivion is my wife?" Almarie demanded.

"Your wife is irrelevant," said the masked kidnapper. "This is about another woman in Riften. Remember Grelod the Kind?"

"The racist bitch who was torturing orphans," said Almarie. "Killed her with a blast of Flames. No regrets."

"It was a good kill," the woman acknowledged. "But it was one you stole from us."

"You're with the Dark Brotherhood," Almarie deduced.

"Well, aren't you clever," said the woman. "Yes. I'm the leader of the Dark Brotherhood, and it's time to repay your debt. A life for-"

"How did you get past my wife?" Almarie cut her off. "I went to sleep next to a six-foot Nord clutching a glass greatsword like a security blanket, and I wake up in some old shack Divines know where? That doesn't make any sense."

"That makes no difference," the woman said in her trying-too-hard-to-be-sultry voice. "Now, the task before you is to choose one of these three-"

"No, really. This doesn't make any damn sense. I don't care how skilled you are in stealth. There is no way you manged to sneak me past Mjoll and - Holy Mara. I'm going to kill him."

"It's holy Sithis you should be concerned with at the moment," said the woman, trying vainly to direct Almarie's attention to the three bound and hooded figures on the other side of the cabin. "Sithis demands that you take one life if you ever wish to leave this cabin."

"Gee, this is going to be a tough choice," said Almarie.

*

The three ungrateful victims were safely on their way, Almarie was wearing the late Astrid's armor and carrying her Blade of Woe, and the sun was shining down on the swamps of Morthal. Almarie traveled back to her wife's house as swiftly as she could.

When she got there, Mjoll was waiting, worried sick and completely unaware of Astrid's intrusion. "I don't know how it could've happened," said Mjoll. "I got up once for a bite to eat, but I swear Aerin and I were only out of the room for a few minutes."

"It wasn't your fault," Almarie assured her. "And now that I'm back, I'd say it's time to get started on our adventures. Why don't you pack a few things?"

"Of course, love," Mjoll said. "Aerin, want to help?"

"I'd- better wait here and have a chat with your wife," said Aerin, choosing his words with caution as he felt the tip of the Blade of Woe in his back.

"Yes, Aerin, let's have a little chat," said Almarie as soon as Mjoll was up the stairs. "It's been almost a year since Grelod's death. I've been all over Skyrim since then. I've been in dormitories, inns, and houses. I've been in so many Nordic and Dwemer ruins that I've forgotten half their names. This is the first time I've slept, but it isn't the first time I've rested. And I've been guarded only by Lydia, who, for reasons I can't reveal to you, I know is very easy to kill. Astrid was even easier to kill. Why is it that, just now, the Dark Brotherhood was able to successfully kidnap me?"

"I don't know what you're-"

"Don't even try it," said Almarie.

"All right," he said. "I'm not the warrior Mjoll is. You know that. Everyone knows that. I mostly aid her work by keeping an ear to the underworld. Mjoll has a way of alienating potential contacts, in case you hadn't noticed. I knew the Dark Brotherhood had been looking for Grelod's killer, and the day you came to the Bee and Barb, I was sure it was you. I put the word out when you came back from Mzinchaleft. Astrid was here by the time your wedding was over. I told her I'd distract Mjoll if she'd swear to leave Mjoll unharmed."

"So that's why you were sitting up in our room all night?" said Almarie.

"Uh, sure."

"Look," said Almarie, "Mjoll obviously cares about you a lot, and I can see that in your own misguided, insecure, slightly pathetic way, you care about her, too. So I'm going to let this go and not say anything to Mjoll about it. But she's my wife now. If you can't accept that, I can't make any promises for the future. Got it?"

"Completely understood."

"One more thing," said Almarie. "When you rescued Mjoll, what were you doing by the exit of Mzinchaleft in the first place?"

"Oh, you think that door is only the exit to Mzinchaleft?" Aerin laughed. "I see you have much left to do before your destiny is fulfilled, Dragonborn.

Almarie never got a chance to question him further, because just then, Mjoll came down the stairs with a pack full of supplies.

"I'm itching for a fight," Mjoll grinned.

"Follow me," Almarie beckoned.

"It feels good to be traveling again," said Mjoll. "Walking the breadth of Skyrim has always filled my heart with excitement."

And so the Dragonborn and the Lioness went forth to defend Skyrim together.

Author's Note: Yes, this timing is how Almarie's recruitment into the Dark Brotherhood played out. I was expecting to get back to Riften to find Mjoll and Aerin dead, and I seriously wondered if Aerin had anything to do with it, because it was kind of suspicious how he watched us get in bed. I'm still not fully convinced he had no part in it, since Almarie inadvertently gave him the ingredients for the Black Sacrament.