How Fragile the Forging

Summary: Takes place after 'Forging the Heart's Desire'. The Dragonborn is thrust back into the Thieves' Guild once again. Alyssa promises Balimund that it is her last job, but Brynjolf has other plans…

The sun was rising on the hazy little town of Riften. Normally Balimund would wake before the dawn, but married life had made him sluggish with contentment. Instead of the early rays rousing him from his dreams, it was someone bustling around in the solar. The smith smiled before he opened his eyes to peek through the entryway at his wife.

His wife. It had been three weeks since Balimund had laid claim to Alyssa at the Temple of Mara and he still couldn't believe that she was his. The gods had been very good to him. Her auburn hair was undone and cascading down her back in tight waves. The fire in the hearth gave her creamy skin a healthy glow. She was so beautiful in the morning.

He sat up in bed and watched her glide across the room, fussing over pots and setting the table hurriedly. The smith was left curious; enough to move him from the warm bed and walk across the freezing floor of Honeyside to lean against the door frame.

"Good morning, Love."

Alyssa whipped around, eyes wide. She hadn't expected Balimund to wake for another half hour. Still, it was always good to see him first thing in the morning; his pale golden hair was very wild and his eyes would still be sleepy, making the broad-shouldered Nord look so innocent. She smiled, petal-pink lips turning up. "Good morning. Hungry?"

The smith nodded, grinning back. He loved that smile.

She motioned for him to sit down. Balimund settled in and finally realized there were delicious smells permeating the room. He inhaled appreciatively, causing Alyssa to giggle. He loved that, too.

Alyssa placed a heaping plate of venison chops and buttery potatoes in front of the hungry smith, who eyed it gratefully. It wasn't enough that this woman was given the power to save the world- the gods thought it best that she could cook, too. Not that Balimund would ever complain.

The Dragonborn put a steaming sweet roll on the edge of his plate. The smith chuckled happily. He quickly swiped a bit of the fast-melting icing with his finger and held it up to his wife. Any time she made sweet rolls, he would always offer her the first taste in this way, which would always lead to them abandoning their breakfast and sating another kind of appetite.

Alyssa looked at his sugary finger wearily. "Mm… not just now, Bal." The smith watched surprised as the Breton woman turned to tend to the food on the hearth. She began packing things away. Balimund looked over at her spot at the table; she hadn't placed anything there.

"Aren't you going to eat, Love?"

"I will later." She turned to give him a reassuring smile. Balimund's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Lately she'd been eating enough to rival even him. Now she wasn't eating at all?

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Never better." Her smile grew wider. She turned back and began humming.

Hmm. Very strange. Shaking his head, the smith plowed through his breakfast, uttering appreciative murmurs and groans every so often. Before long, Alyssa's humming turned to singing.

"Steady as she goes, to and fro, to and fro. Steady as she goes, to and fro…

My lass waits for me on the shore, on the shore. My lass waits for me on the shore…

She's fair-haired and blue-eyed, my love, yes my love. She's fair-haired and blue-eyed my love…"

Balimund loved her voice. She might have been a bard if the songs hadn't turned out to be mostly about her. The smith recognized the popular sea chanty as the Dragonborn repeated the chorus:

"Steady as she goes, to and fro, to and fro. Steady as she goes, to and fro…

I've brought her a brooch, made from gold, made from gold. I've brought her a brooch made from gold…

I'll ask for her hand, to be mine, to be mine. I'll ask for her hand to be mine…

Steady as she goes, to and fro, to and fro. Steady as she goes, to and fro…

She'll cook and she'll sing every night, every night. She'll cook and she'll sing every night…

Her belly will swell with my bairn, with my bairn. Her belly will swell with my bairn…"

Alyssa had turned to face Balimund as she sang this last verse, her dusky eyes bright with mischief. He sat back and listened, enjoying the morning serenade.

"Her belly will swell with my bairn, with my bairn. Her belly will swell with my bairn…"

Odd. The song usually ended with the chorus, but she came back around on that last line. Balimund gave the Breton a curious look. She laughed a little, walking up to the smith and taking his hand in hers. She placed his open palm against her stomach, and softly repeated:

"Her belly will swell with my bairn, with my bairn. Her belly will swell with my bairn!"

Wha-… by the gods!

Balimund looked up incredulous. His eyes bounced between Alyssa's and her stomach. He placed his other hand on her and gently cradled her still-small belly. A bairn. His bairn. Their bairn!

The Dragonborn continued to grin down at the Nord, joy pouring out of her like the tide. The smith stood and pulled her to him, cupping the Breton's face tenderly. "Lyss… is it true?"

She nodded. "Yes. I am queasy, I can smell everything, and I had Wylandriah confirm it." It had been strange to have the court wizard examine her, but there were no midwives that Alyssa knew of in Riften, let alone Skyrim. Still, the mage hadn't thought it too strange a request and used a Detect Life spell to see if there was a separate aura within the Dragonborn. Sure enough, the court wizard exclaimed excitedly that there was a very small wisp of life inside the Breton's womb.

Balimund kissed Alyssa intensely before scooping her into his arms and swinging her around the room, roaring triumphantly. The Dragonborn laughed before stopping abruptly. "Bal-Bal! I'm queasy!"

The smith stopped, concern etched dramatically on his features. He rushed her to their bed and laid her down gently. "Gods, Alyssa. I'm sorry! I'm a fool, I was just so excited. Can I get you anything?"

She laughed, cupping his face. "I'm fine! Balimund, I wonder what Asbjorn would think if he knew just how soft you really are?"

The smith snorted. "I am not. And besides, what good would it do him to know? I'd be forced to work him into the ground just to prove him wrong." Balimund immediately switched back to focusing on Alyssa, holding her gently.

"A child. Our child. I never thought I'd see the day." The Nord man looked uneasy as he looked back down at her belly. Gods, was he too old for this? Most men his age had children that were grown. Forty-two wasn't considered old by any means, but in regards to having a bairn?

"You're no stranger to raising a child. Asbjorn has you to thank for his good fortune." Alyssa stated, seeing his apprehension and knowing his fear.

The smith sighed. "Aye, but he was twelve when I took him in. And that is a far cry from a little one…" The smith was fascinated with her stomach, trying to imagine how small their child must be. He would grow quickly over the next several months. And then-

Balimund looked anxiously up at Alyssa. "We'll have to send for a midwife. She'll be able to help you through…" He couldn't finish, the thought of his wife in pain was more than he could bear.

The Breton smiled reassuringly. "I'll be fine, Bal. Women before me have done it, and many more will do so after." She brushed her lips against his tenderly, her heart swelling with delight over her husband's concern.

The smith returned her kiss heartily. The gods had blessed him yet again. Not only was she a wonderful wife, but she was certain to be an exceptional mother. They pulled apart to a knock at the door. Balimund got up and barely had time to answer before Svana Far-Shield nearly took it down in her rush to get to Alyssa.

"Is it true!?"

Alyssa's mouth fell open in shock. "You know?!"

"Everyone knows." Asbjorn said, trailing in behind his wife and clapping Balimund on the back. "Congratulations, father! I never would've guessed I'd get a little brother so soon!"

"Or sister!" Svana shot back, irritated. They had been arguing mildly about the gender ever since they found out.

Alyssa shook her head, looking far away. "Unbelievable. That Elf forgets her own name most days, yet manages to remember that I'm expecting and tells the whole town…"

Svana exclaimed animatedly. "This is wonderful! Have you thought of any names? Where will the babe's room be?"

Asbjorn shook his head and leaned closer to Balimund to conceal his words from his wife. "She's been like this for days. I can only imagine what she'll be like when it is our turn."

The smith smiled wryly. "You have my condolences."

"Anyway, we should go and celebrate! Let's go to the Bee and Barb. After all, it wouldn't be right if you stiffed everyone on that round you're buying, Da."

"Not so fast. We have work to do today." Balimund knew a Skeever when he saw one. Asbjorn was more concerned about a day off than the patrons at the Barb.

"Ah, lighten up, Balimund. This is a joyous day! It's not often your wife graces you with the news of your first born." Asbjorn wagged his eyebrows at the smith. Balimund turned to admire his wife, who was enduring the young Nord woman's incessant chatter.

They smiled at each other from across the room. They were going to have a babe.

Balimund sighed, but his lips were turned up in a grin. "Very well. To the Barb with you lot."

Svana rushed to her husband happily. Alyssa moved as if to get up when Balimund swept her into his arms and carried her towards the door. She looked at him exasperated.

"I am capable of walking, you know."

"That may be, but no wife of mine is going to so much as lift a finger while she's carrying our child. From now on, I am your legs."

Alyssa laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You're a fool."

"Aye. That I am." He was her fool, and would be the rest of their lives. She rested her head on his shoulder as they headed out the door.

Thank you for correspondences. I look forward to them in the future.

I do not own Elder Scrolls or any works from Bethesda and Zenimax.

However, the song 'Steady As She Goes' is mine. I am curious to know if it suited this chapter.