It was one of the coldest winter.

Even for Skyrim, the land known for its rigid climate, it was a difficult one for its inhabitants. The entire hold of Falkreath was frozen, covered in knee-deep snow. No living creature would enjoy this chilling winter except for the Ice Trolls, Ice Wraiths and undead who were dancing on the frosty winds.

The denizens of Helgen were all barricaded inside their homes, away from the biting cold. Some who preferred to spend their cold days with the company of other people, gathered at the third largest hall in town, Dragon’s Roast tavern. Laughters could be heard coming from the inside, with the sounds of merry music and songs.

From the drunks that tries to warm themselves by drinking ale and mead.

From the cheerful jeers and cheers of the adventurers who made a temporary stop at their town.

And from the harmonious singing of the travelling bards, telling stories about mythical tales of heroes and their legends.

But no laughs or songs were heating the nearest house, the Harissen household. Despite feeling warm from the fire and hot steam that was boiled from the open kettle, the cold winds of winter were able to pass and struck the main members of this family. The pillars of the house, the husband and wife, were both sitting quietly on different sides of the common room, ignoring each other in an almost embarrassing way.

The wife was making herself busy by watching the fireplace, throwing firewood every hour or so. While the husband was forcing himself to read some books over the candle light.

After all, this was the last night they would spend under the same roof.

In the past two weeks, they already stopped sleeping in the same bed. It was neither like they hated each other nor one of them had an affair. They just married too quickly and realized too late that they just didn't work as a couple.

This was a normal occurrence on this land, where youthful urges between both genders, common people and adventurers alike, would often cause a premature matrimony between partners. For both of them who just realized this, marriage between nobles were better off as the arrangements and parent’s decisions would often give their children better partners than what a common man or woman would get.

And these two people had finally decided, in common agreement, to divorce. They brought their case to the Jarl and the priest of Falkreath. Then asked for the annulment of their marriage. But it was more difficult than they would have believed it to be.

A wailing came from upstairs. Soon, another cry could be heard.

The soon-to-be-former couple met each other's eyes for the first time of the day. That was the sound of the only reason why they hadn’t already said their goodbyes to each other a week ago.

The woman nodded and rose from her wooden chair, moving towards the stair that took to the house's upper floor. Following the noise, she arrived in the main bedroom where a wooden crib was placed. Beside the bed that she had once shared with her husband.

Inside the cradle was a pair of toddlers, not even nine months old. And both were crying. One of the twins had probably woken up and his noise disturbed his brother's sleep.

Taking a seat on the end of the bed, the young mother started to swing slowly the cradle and sung a lullaby. She hoped that they would go back to sleep, their last nights had been almost deprived of rest, between the twins waking up and the tension between her and her husband.

They had tried to stay together, for their sons' sakes, they really did.

But it seemed that it wasn't fated to be.

The worse part was that by decree of the Jarl, they would have to choose between the children. Which would separate both brothers. It was a compromise of some sort. Because none of them, as parents wanted to lose their children.

Even if the two of them already lost their love for one another, both the husband and wife, still loved their adorable twins with all their heart.

And as the woman who gave birth to them, she had been given the right to choose first, both by the jarl and the priest.

She tried to talk about it with her former husband, but he refused. As much as he wanted both of the twins to be together, he also had to make a hard choice, he also don’t want to lose a son. She could see and feel how he was also distraught at making such decision, no matter how he tried to hide it. She wasn’t his wife for years without knowing him that much.

But the first choice had to be her’s, even if he offered to choose first, the priest and the Jarl didn’t allow them as it would break the laws of their faith. Nobody can bend that rule, not even the Jarl who was also their close friend.

May the Nine—no, may the Eight damn those laws! For torturing a mother with such a cursed decision! She started crying. The very thought of separating her sons broke her heart.

The children were asleep again, or so she thought, since they were no longer crying. She gazed at the fruits of her womb with sorrow in her eyes. They were so small, so fragile. They both had her blond hair, and also inherited their father's blue eyes.

But who should she choose?

She and the twins’ father were both Nords, but she wasn't a native of Skyrim like the man she had loved.

One of their sons—the firstborn—was stronger and healthier than his brother. The second twin instead was frailer, and more prone to coughs attack and cold in this season.

She was born in Cyrodiil and had no family that she knew of, in her cold and ancestral land. No bonds to let her stay. Her relatives were living in Leyawiin, half a continent away from Helgen. She wanted to go there, away from Skyrim and all the good memories, the bad memories and regrets.

But it was a hard and dangerous journey, especially for a lone woman with an infant.

She was not actually a defenseless maiden. As she had done her share of fights and killing during her days as an adventurer. Ironically, it was during one of her travels that she met the father of her sons, a fellow traveller and mercenary.

But traveling to Leyawiin, on foot, with a toddler on her back… that was just inviting death by the hands of the bandits, beasts and slavers that infested the main roads in these troubled times.

And also, it was still the middle of winter. It was probable that all the passes had been covered in deep snow by now and had become impenetrable.

The alternative would be a ship, but that would become an even longer journey. And more expensive, too.

Fewer bandits, but not fewer dangers.

Also, there were no ships that sailed from Skyrim to Cyrodiil. Not directly. She would have to change ships at least half a dozen times while traveling along the coasts of the continent, stopping to resupply in at least two of Tamriel's provinces.

If she was lucky, High Rock could been safe enough. But then she would have to take the journey either through the Aldmeri Dominion or Hammerfell.

However, the Aldmeri Dominion was out of the question. That meant no docks at the Summerset Isle, Valenwood or their client-state, Elsweyr. It’s better to avoid the Thalmor if possible.

Hammerfell was independent but devastated since the end of the war. Very few travellers and merchant ships went there. But should she succeed in finding a passage through it, she could arrive in Cyrodiil, either with a caravan or by docking at the city of Anvil.

On the other route, the eastern one, her first stop would logically be Morrowind. But that unfortunate land was still in a chaotic situation since the eruption of the Red Mountain in Vvarderfell and all the consistent invasions it had suffered.

And Black Marsh had always been hostile to travellers ever since it seceded from the Empire for almost two centuries ago and after Umbriel appeared in the skies above Lilmoth...no. She would skip Black Marsh altogether. It wasn't even a difficult choice.

But back to the children. She would think about how to travel later.

Who to choose?

She knew her former husband loved them, otherwise she would have escaped into the night with both of them.

Jarl, priest and faith be damned!

Should she take with her the healthier and stronger twin, more likely to survive the travel back to her home?

Or the frail one, hoping that his health would fare better in the warmer Cyrodill?

“Nines, forgive me,” she murmured. Her tears seemed to have dried out as nothing was coming out anymore.

She made her choice.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Two days later, she was on a carriage that would take her to the city of Solitude, the biggest commercial dock of the entire Skyrim province. In her arms, sheltered from the cold by layers of blankets and furs, was one of her sons.

From the doorstep of the house where she had lived for two years, her former husband was watching her departure with their other child in his arms.

No more words were exchanged between them before she left. A simple nod was already enough to be a gesture of farewell between the two former couple.

As the carriage started to move, the two toddlers’ eyes met, just for a moment.

The twins would never see each other again.

At least, not while alive.