Victory or Sovngarde

Chapter Twenty-Three

Stalemate.

After the celebration in Windhelm, the war had stalled. We had expanded as far to the east as we could, and had decided the next move would be to make our way to Solitude. Unfortunately, the Thalmor had a strong front built out west, and we were unable to get past Whiterun Hold. The enemy had forts, camps, and strongholds erected, with a surplus of men and supplies in each of them. We had no way of getting enough supplies to fight them without Falkreath's help. The Jarl there had thus far refused to offer his aid.

So we were at a stalemate.

In a way, I was grateful. The troops did not need me on the front lines, so I was free to stay at home with my family for the time being. I made the plans—with help from Marina—and sent couriers to relay the orders to the soldiers. By day, I was the Dragonborn General.

But at night, I was simply Ylva, mother of two, wife, and Harbinger of the Companions.

I made my rounds through Jorrvaskr, having just finished the evening meal. Tyra had retired to her room for the night. She was only a few months away from delivering her child, and this pregnancy had taken a lot out of her. I pitied her, but she was a strong woman. She would be okay.

Still, I wanted to help her in any way I could.

I poked my head into the room, waving at her as she sat up in bed. "How are you feeling?"

She sighed and rested a hand on the curve of her belly. "I'm tired. The little one has been really active these last few weeks."

"Have you and Farkas thought of any names yet?"

Smiling, Tyra beckoned me into the room with her. I sat down beside her, putting an arm over her shoulders. "Well," she said, "we have been going back and forth about what the baby will be. If it's a girl, as Farkas suspects, we want to name her Tovanna."

"And if it's a boy?"

"If it's a boy, we're naming him Kensley."

"That's a very strong name."

She nodded. "We thought so, too. Whatever it is, we'll be happy." She rubbed her hands over her stomach. "I can't wait to meet the child, Ylva."

"Me, either. I hope we can have this war won before it arrives, though." I patted her shoulder, offering her a weak smile. "So don't go into labor any day soon, all right?"

She chuckled. "I'll do my best."

I stood from the bed. "Get some rest, sister. I'll see you in the morning."

She reclined on the bed, sighing as her head hit the pillow. "If you see my husband, send him down, would you?"

"Last I checked, he was putting your children to bed. I'm sure he'll be in shortly."

"Thank you."

I left, shutting the door behind me. As I walked down the hall towards the children's room, Vilkas intercepted me. "Can I ask a favor, love?"

"What do you need?"

He reached behind his head, undoing the leather tie he had around his hair. Since I had been gone for so long, Vilkas had let his hair grow out. Instead of hitting him just below his jaw, as it normally did, the ends now brushed over his shoulders. He shook his hair out with his hand, then gave me a sheepish look. "Will you cut my hair for me?"

I smiled, resting my hand to his chest. "Of course. Let's put the children to bed first."

Together, we walked into the bedroom. Embla was scratching something out on paper, and Jergen sat in his chair, book in his hands. When he saw us, he jumped out of his chair and strode to Vilkas. He held the book for my husband to see, pointing directly at some word. "Papa, what's this word?"