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Chapter Text

Aleana flinched slightly at the tightening grip of tiny fingers around her wrist. Glancing down to her side she could see her brother tremble behind her skirts. His rust-colored hair was messy despite being brushed by her hands mere hours ago and his usual pale cheeks whipped red by the wind. 

The Breton wondered briefly if she should have just left the boy home rather than take him to the market. Of course, that would mean the nine-year-old would be alone in her small dorm room in the college at the mercy of over a dozen narcissistic musicians. No, she shook her head, he needed some fresh air and time away from his studies. 

“See anything you like?” Aleana prodded the boy with her hip. 

“Fish.” He whispered, pointing at the meat stall where a dozen large fish hung side by side just above the beef display. 

“Use your words Podrick.” Aleana hummed, chewing her lip slightly. 

“I want fish. The big one. Like how mom cooks it.” Podrick demanded his voice muffled in her dress. 

The woman sighed, “We can buy a little fish, how about that one?” 

Podrick didn't even glance in the direction she pointed, “NO! I want salmon, mom always cooks salmon.” 

A twinge of frustration jabbed in Aleanas rib as she gritted her teeth, “No Podrick, we don't have the coin, we’re getting the little fish.”

Even from behind the blue silks Aleana could see the red blossoming on his face, “No! Father just sent us coin last week! I saw you take it! What did you spend it on? I'm hungry and you spent all the coin!” 

Aleana felt her own face heat, gripping the child quickly before hissing into his ear with a harsh whisper, “Watch your tongue boy! Or there will be no supper tonight. We can't afford Salmon because Father lost his job back in High Rock. You know that!” Her grip was tighter than she realized, Podrick squirmed and whined under her, “Our parents are working themselves to death to provide for us and I'm sorry that it's not enough for you, but don't you dare take it out on me.”

Releasing her death grip on the boy's shoulder, Aleana stepped away quickly, a hot ball of shame forming in her stomach as her previous words played on repeat in her head, each rendition sounding more venomous than the last.

An apology was on the tip of her tongue just as Podrick dashed away to the fruit stand. The boy looked all too interested in the apples to listen to anything his older sister had to say. Aleana could do nothing but frown, keeping her eyes low to avoid the stares of the other townsfolk. Gods she missed High Rock where the streets were too thick with folk for anyone to eavesdrop on a private affair. 

“Pardon the intrusion, my lady,” Aleana nearly gasped at the cool sensation wrapping casually around her shoulders as a raspy voice slithered in her ear, “But I couldn't help but notice a dear citizen in need of some… help.” 

Her body went stiff as Aleana turned to see the strange Argonion, who was much too close for casual conversation. The man in question was dressed in fur and leather, two straps binding his chest while exposing the rest to the harsh morning wind. Greyish scales adorned pale pink skin like clouds on an ocean sunset. His arm, which rested atop her shoulders tucked her in closer to his body, the sharp black claws on his fingertips glistened just slightly. 

“I- I’m sorry?” Aleana stumbled for a second, caught completely off guard by the man. 

The pink Argonian smiled, revealing sharp white teeth, “Nothing to apologize for my lady, I am merely a concerned citizen with a bleeding heart I must confess.” His mouth opened again but pale yellow eyes seemed to notice something behind her, “Ah but of course a lady like yourself must be busy. So allow me to leave you with an invitation. I have some work fit for a young lady down on her luck, work that pays well. Meet me tonight at the winking Skeever, you won't regret it.” 

With a smear of colors across her vision, the man was gone. The last she saw of him was a pink tale slithering into the shadow behind one of the shops. Aleana blinked, feeling dizzy.

“You there, girl.” A feminine Nordic accent came up from behind Aleana who quickly turned to find a city guard. “Watch yourself with Jaree-Ra. He’s trouble, plenty of it.”

“Who is he?” Aleana couldn't help but ask. After all, the man had run off before she had even given him her name. 

“Pirate scumb.” The guard huffed, disdain evident in her voice. “He’s been slinking around the market for a week now looking for lowlifes to follow some scheme of his. Best you stay clear of him.”

“Oh.” was all the Breton could manage as her stomach dropped to her feet. 

Aleana managed the wrangle Podrick back to her side, though the pair shopped in silence. Using the little coin their parents had sent from High Rock, they purchased a pathetic sliver of beef with some cabbage. Podrick pouted the whole way back to the college but didn't dare cause another scene in front of the professors. 

Back in her dorm room, Aleana studied her history books while stirring the soup pot absent-mindedly. One particular passage from The Wolf Queen made her pause. 

Over the course of dinner, Potema promised King Orgnum through the interpreter, to lead an insurrection against her brother. She was delighted to discover that her capacity for lying worked in many different cultures. Potema shared her bed that night with King Orgnum, as it seemed the polite and diplomatic thing to do. As it turned out, he was one of the better lovers she had ever had. He gave her some herbs before beginning that made her feel as if she was floating on the surface of time, conscious only of the gestures of love after she had found herself making them. She felt herself like the cooling mist, quenching the fire of his lust over and over and over again. In the morning, when he kissed her on the cheek, and said with his bald white eyes that he was leaving her, she felt a stab of regret.

The ship left harbor that morning, en route to the Summerset Isles and the imminent invasions. She waved them off to sea as she footsteps behind her. It was Levlet.

"They will do it for eight million, your highness" he said.

"Thank Mara," said Potema. "I need more time for an insurrection. Pay them from my treasury, and then go to the Imperial City and get the twelve million from Antiochus. We should make a good profit from this game, and you, of course, will have your share."

Three months later, Potema heard that the fleet of the Pyandoneans had been utterly destroyed by a storm that had appeared suddenly off the Isle of Artaeum. The home port of the Psijic Order. King Orgnum and all of his ships had been utterly annihilated.

"Sometimes making people hate you," she said, holding her son Uriel close, "Is how you make a profit."

Potema Septim, the traitor queen whose ambition drove her to madness was a tale popular among bards in Skyrim. After all, this was the home of the necromancer queen who almost became empress. Potema was ruthless, cruel, and always got what she wanted. As horrible as that was, a woman couldn't help but admire it. The sexual empowerment, the plots, and the schemes, The Wolf Queen was the ultimate female power fantasy. It was almost a shame she lost the war.

Aleana was no daring queen with great magic. She was but a humble bard who could recite the entire Septim dynasty line and cast a few spells. But reading about the Sea Elf king whom Potema tricked made the memory of Jaree-Ra tug at her like a nagging child. 

When the soup was done boiling, Podrick silently took his share back to his bedroll tucked under the wooden frame of Aleanas mattress. Once again he said nothing. 

Aleana stood next to the pot, gently sipping at the bowel in her hands, her eyes glazed over. She was hungry. She was always hungry. 

In the past year, Aleana had watched her father's monthly share become less and less. She and Podrick were now living on two hundred gold a month. Aleana tried to do her share between her classes and college-mandated performances by tutoring noble children in the afternoons and mopping the Blue Palace floors some nights. 

Both jobs paid for her tuition and not much else. It wasn't exactly a surprise, Skyrim had split apart in a civil war, and the rich people of solitude would rather spend their coin in the war effort or escape routes if the capital ever fell to the stormcloaks. Nobody much cared for the barely noticeable bard who mopped their floors and taught their children. She was a commodity, an afterthought. In short, Aleana was tired, tired and sore and so very hungry. 

The soup in her bowel drained into her stomach all too quickly. Aleanas golden eyes began to drift over to her copy of The Wolf Queen.

Potema never went hungry.

Chapter Text

Aleana usually did her best to avoid the Winking Skeever. Taverns, she found, were much too loud and their patrons much too grabby. Even now, cloaked and quiet, Aleana could feel clumsy hands grope and squeeze her flesh as she pushed through the crowd of drunks. It was all she could do to bite back the bile building in the back of her throat. 

Once she had broken through the mass of bodies at the door, Aleana almost immediately spotted the man from the market. The pink-scaled Argonian sat in a closed-off corner with another green-scaled Argonian who looked slightly agitated, his tail twitching near his feet. 

Aleana hesitated for a heartbeat, debating turning around and going back to bed. The lady of the night must have had other plans for the Breton as it would seem the candlelight illuminated her face just enough for the pink Argonian to notice. “Well well well, looks like a lady has found her way into the viper pit.”

Left with not much choice, Aleana stepped forward, sitting on an empty chair between them. An uncanny feeling of nervousness washed over her but she held still. “You said you had work.”

“Where are my manners? I don't think I ever introduced myself-” He completely ignored her previous statement. 

“Your name ia Jaree-Ra. You're a pirate.” She cut him off boldly yet her fingers dug into the flesh on her lap. 

His expression tightened for a moment before responding in a cool voice, “And you are Aleana, no last name given because you and that boy of yours are some High Rock runaways. This,” he pointed at the green Argonian man next to her, “is Gulum-Ei, my associate and dear estranged brother. There, now we all are familiar, let's get down to business.”

If looks could kill, Jaree would be dead on the floor at Gulums wrathful gaze. Aleana twitched a bit but held her breath to keep composed, “Tell me what it is you want, or I’m leaving. No more games.”

Firm, powerful, and precise, just like the Wolf Queen herself. 

Jaree grinned before suddenly lunging forward and wrapping her back. With one quick tug, she was pulled from her chair and into the Argonians lap. Suddenly every Elven ancestor in her line screamed in rage as her blood crackled and boiled with magic. 

Before her magical bloodline could act in defense, Jarees voice was in her ear once more, “One does not discuss their plots with a beautiful woman on their lap, do they?” She went rigid as his hand slid under her dress, lifting the fabric up until his claws rested on her thigh. “There are guards here, lurking. We must be subtle.”

Aleana gave him a long hard look, anger surging up once more when she noticed it only fueled the wicked glee in his eye. Reluctantly she reached up, tossing her cloak on the table. 

Aleana knew damn well she was beautiful. Her parents told her since the day she was born how prominent her elven features were. Golden hair, golden eyes, and sharp ears were all present in her person. A Breton beauty, a relic of the elven oppressors. 

She always saw the hungry eyes trace down her body wherever she went. Leering gazes and curved lips haunted her every step since she was a young girl. In High Rock, it had been self-entitled wizards showing off party tricks to lure her back into their chambers. In Skyrim, it was dumb brutes with big axes. Men are the same everywhere.

But she was a lady, ladies do not succumb to the lust of stupid men and Dibella knew the world was full of stupid men. So Aleana often neglected to show herself off, as stupid as that was. Everyone knew the pretty girls got the best tips. 

Here in this tavern, these blackout-drunk men would only remember the shape of her thighs and how large her breasts were rather than her face come morning. Jaree seemed to appreciate the sentiment. “My dear brother recently noticed that a ship will be coming to port in the morning. A rather large ship with more than a few valuables.” Jaree began to explain, kneading her flesh like dough, “And this particular ship will need help from the lighthouse to make port. If something were to happen to the lighthouse, I suppose said ship would be in a very unfortunate situation.”

Aleana felt her back ache at the upright position she held on top of him, “They'll crash.” She rested her arms on his bare shoulders to ease some of the discomfort. Thinking for a moment she spoke again, slowly, “If… that light were to go out then the sailers-”

“Will be fine!” he squeezed her flesh, a sleazy smile on his scaly lips. “Especially when some friends of mine will be conveniently nearby for a daring rescue that I'm sure the East Empire Trading Company will surely reward us for!”

“I…” Her voice shook just slightly. Did she really want anyone's blood on her hands? Even if just one sailer died, it would be her fault. Suddenly this whole thing didn't seem like some fun adventure novel anymore. She wasn't a dashing hero, a charming scoundrel, or an evil queen. She was just Aleana.

“Don't you want your brother to fatten up a little?” Jaree pulled her just a bit closer. Aleana became all too aware of their position. Her legs were on the side of his hips, stomach pressed against his bare chest. She felt his form, solid and cool. “He's bony enough, don't you think?” 

Of course, the lizard had to bring Podrick into this.