AN: Extra chaps on my P-Word if you're interested! Aside from that, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Cheers guys!
…
4E 202, Shor's Stone
Serana Volkihar
Two days had passed since the Grand Council of Skyrim, and the day had finally come.
Serana looked at her own reflection through the polished silver mirror. What stood before her was not the jaded Daughter of Coldharbour, but a bride and a maiden, clad entirely in white.
The gown flowed from her shoulders like freshly fallen snow, its fabric catching the soft glow of lamplight and returning it in gentle waves. It had been crafted from the finest materials the holds could offer—Altmeri cotton dyed pure as winter frost, layered with fine Nordic wool that would shield her from the weather of Skyrim.
Soft snow fox fur lined the edges, pale and pristine, brushing lightly against her skin with every movement. Two skirts overlapped, split for ease of movement—fit for a bride who did not shy away from combat.
It fit her perfectly.
Snug across her chest, supportive without constriction, the weight of it resting comfortably on her shoulders like a mantle she had long since earned. She shifted slightly, testing it out of instinct more than necessity.
No restriction.
A faint smile touched her lips.
When word spread that the future lady of Shor's Stone required a wedding gown, a flock of tailors and seamstresses from across Skyrim had descended upon the Ebony Palace in droves—each one eager for the honor of crafting the dress that would be remembered for generations.
Her mother was the one to judge each craft with a practiced eye, determining which deserved to create the gown of the new Lady of the Rift. Every stitch, every thread, every design had passed beneath her scrutiny. Nothing less than perfection had been accepted.
And in the end, this was the result. A dress worthy of a queen.
Her gaze lifted once more to her reflection.
Her face had been carefully prepared, powder applied with a light hand, accentuating the sharpness of her cheekbones without masking them. Her lips bore just a hint of color, enough to soften without hiding. Her midnight hair was braided with red roses, bringing out the crimson of her eyes.
She looked…beautiful.
Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the day before.
Three hundred volunteers had departed for Skuldafn, amidst the preparations of the celebrations.
She could still hear it, the thunder of applause that had filled the streets of Shor's Stone as they left. The townsfolk lining every path, every wall, every rooftop, cheering as the great Carrowhulks carried the warriors toward the mountains.
The plan had been sound.
The Carrowhulks would carry them halfway up the mountain slopes, where the air grew thin and the path treacherous. From there, they would disembark to march on foot to the hidden tunnels the Blades had uncovered.
Ancient passageways, long abandoned, choked with weeds and roots that had claimed them over the years. Those tunnels would take them upward. Deeper into the mountains until they emerged within the temple itself.
Many whispered that it was a suicide mission, and perhaps it was, but was not staying in Shor's Stone just as much a death sentence?
"You look beautiful." Her mother's voice came from behind her. Serana met her eyes through the mirror, and all she could see was sheer pride.
Serana turned slightly, her smile coming easier now. "Thank you, mother," she said gently. "It's perfect."
Valerica inclined her head, her eyes sweeping over the gown once more—not with scrutiny this time, but satisfaction.
"It definitely is." Kiera's voice came from the doorway. Serana turned, the white-haired dragonborn leaning against the frame. "You look stunning," she added, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Serana let out a quiet breath, turning back to the mirror once more.
The ceremony was close now. Closer with every heartbeat.
A knock on the door heralded yet another visitor, and Ranessa's face peeked inside the room.
"It's time, my Lady." Ranessa said, as she stepped inside. Like Kiera, she was clad in armor, though it had been polished to a shine befitting the day. "The Jarl and the others were bound for the courtyard ten minutes past."
Serana nodded slowly.
"Are you ready?" Kiera asked.
For a moment, Serana considered the question. Everything that had led to this point.
The battles. The losses. The impossible choices.
And the man waiting for her beyond those doors.
"I've never been more ready for anything else." The answer came without hesitation.
Kiera's smile widened slightly. "Good."
"Come then," Valerica said, stepping toward the door. "We should not keep them waiting."
Serana nodded, left the chambers and set off towards the courtyard. Her boots struck the stone in a steady rhythm, though inside her, she couldn't keep the anticipation from her chest.
Ranessa walked just behind her, while Valerica was at her side and Kiera slightly ahead.
Servants and guards alike paused as she passed. Some bowed. Others simply watched, their expressions a mixture of awe and quiet admiration.
The walk from her assigned room within the temple to the courtyard wasn't long. In no time, the corridor opened toward the final stretch.
Light spilled in from ahead, the pale glow of the sky beyond the temple walls.
Kiera slowed, then turned to her.
"I'll go ahead," she said, reaching out to take Serana's hand briefly. "Make sure everything's ready."
Her grip was firm and reassuring.
"Good luck."
Serana squeezed her hand in return, a small smile forming despite everything. "Thank you."
Kiera gave one last nod, then turned and disappeared ahead.
Serana drew in a slow breath.
The sounds of the courtyard drifted faintly toward her now—voices, movement, life gathering beyond the threshold.
She stepped forward and approached the final archway, just before entering the courtyard.
…
4E 202, Shor's Stone
Kiera Fendalyn
The wedding of Gerron and Serana was a grand affair that had the entire city celebrating.
It was a cold morning as soft snowflakes fell from the skies. Winter had finally come, dusting the city in white. But Kiera already had a cup of mulled mead to warm her bones.
Shor's Stone's walls warded away any winds, making the chill easily bearable for the common folk, but the snow had begun reaching above her ankle and crunched underneath her feet.
Not so much for the courtyard of the Temple of Mara, for every trace of snow had been cleared away by eager volunteers, townsfolk who had risen before dawn to ensure the ceremony would be perfect. Not a patch remained where the bride and groom would stand.
When Kiera entered it for the first time, she was stunned. She had expected grandeur, but somehow, this ceremony had surpassed even the grand wedding of Vittoria Vici in splendor.
Hedges of mountain flowers lined the courtyard in careful arrangement—blues, purples, and deep reds woven together into living tapestries. Their colors stood vibrant against the pale stone and the white of winter, as though defying the season itself.
Gerron was already here, with the Spellbreaker sword on his belt and the Crown of the Rift on his brow.
He wore no armor today. Instead, a silver-lined black doublet hugged his frame, tailored to perfection. A grey fur cloak rested upon his shoulders, lending him a presence that was less warrior and more king.
Kiera allowed herself a small, approving smile. He looked more regal than the Jarls or even the Emperor, something she was sure everyone had noticed.
Beside him stood Erandur, the Dunmer priest of Mara. Once a servant of Vaermina, now a man redeemed who was more than happy to officiate the wedding.
Ralof was like a shadow, standing quietly at his Jarl's back, befitting his role as Housecarl. Beside Ralof was Filnjar, the man who had practically raised Gerron since his youth. The pride in his eyes was unmistakable.
Kiera's gaze shifted across the courtyard.
Seats had been arranged in careful order, filled now with the most powerful figures in Skyrim.
The very front was filled with the Whiterun contingent, Jarl Balgruuf with Irileth and the Companions. Then, there was the lone Isran and with Archmage Savos with a small retinue of his own, including Mirabelle and the other professors.
The other lords and ladies of Skyrim sat arrayed on either side of the altar, their faces solemn. Even the Emperor, looking resplendent in an imperial doublet, waited.
All over, men and women clad in ebony armor of the Shor's Guard stood vigilant. At least thirty of them were here, their dark forms a stark contrast against the white of snow and the brightness of the flowers.
Even more were scattered throughout the city to make sure no incident happened like it did in Vittoria Vici's wedding. Even the Thieves' Guild had a role to play—positioned quietly throughout the city, ensuring that the celebration to come would remain undisturbed. Karliah and Brynjolf personally made sure of it.
"The sky is clear tonight," the Emperor remarked, his voice calm. "A good omen for a happy marriage."
Kiera glanced upward. Beyond the drifting snow, the sky was clear, with only a few clouds from where the snow continued to fall. 'A good omen, indeed.'
They were all solemn, waiting in silence for the bride to arrive.
They didn't wait long. Serana came, escorted by her mother. Serana was truly a vision, looking as dignified as can be. The white gown flowed with each step, catching the light in soft waves. Her crimson eyes shone like polished rubies, striking against the pale perfection of her skin.
Dignified.
Graceful.
Powerful.
Kiera's enhanced hearing caught an intake of breath from Gerron as he beheld his betrothed for the first time, she smiled faintly.
'Yeah… that's about right.'
The crowd rose as one as Serana walked down the aisle.
When she reached the altar, Erandur began. "It was Mara that first gave birth to all of creation…"
His voice carried across the courtyard, steady and sure. Words of love, of unity, of something greater than war. Kiera listened, though her attention drifted between them. The way Gerron looked at Serana, the way Serana held his gaze without faltering.
"Do you agree to be bound together, in love, now and forever?"
"I do. Now and forever." Serana's voice was clear and strong.
"I do. Now and forever." Gerron's voice followed, softer, but no less resolute.
"Under the authority of Mara, the Divine of Love, I declare this couple to be wed. I present to the two of you with these matching rings, blessed by Mara's divine grace. May they protect each of you in your new life together."
Gerron took the rings and slowly slid them onto Serana's finger as she did the same. They shared a grin before pledging it with a kiss, Gerron pulling his wife close and kissed her deep and long in a way that made Kiera flush, especially as Serana returned the kiss just as eagerly.
"Here in the sight of the divines and men," Erandur stated. "I do solemnly proclaim Gerron Ironbreaker and Serana Volkihar to wed and be husband and wife. One flesh, one soul, now and forever!"
Kiera let out a breath she did not remember holding. It was done. Gerron and Serana were now married. The courtyard erupted with cheers and applause.
Gerron swept Serana into his arms, and together they led the procession toward the Ebony Palace.
The great doors of the hall stood open, torches blazing on either side. Servants in woolen cloaks and fur-line caps bowed low as they passed, a living corridor of bent backs and murmured blessings.
Within, long oaken tables were filled to the brim with roasted pork, slathered with thick brown gravy. On silver platters, slices of venison were arranged like red flowers with a stem of hearty cheese. Beef, mutton, mallards, roasted potatoes, and far more things than her eyes could count. Cheese, hams, pies, and cakes in many forms and colours. Bowls overflowed with exotic fruits, from oranges and apples, to grapes and juniper berries.
Filnjar had truly done an incredible job as Kiera's stomach gave a growl at the sight of it all.
There were no grand speeches nor any pompous declarations. The servants moved with swift grace, bearing tankards and goblets, trenchers piled high, and in a breath, the Great Hall came alive. Laughter rang off the rafters, mingling with the clatter of silverware and the roar of men and women.
Kiera didn't hesitate to join in on the dancing, feasting, and drinking. For a single day, the people chose to relish in the celebrations. There was a chance Alduin would come any day between tomorrow and the next week. Scouts were stationed everywhere, and Bronze was also set up on the foot of the mountains just in case anything happened. With that in mind, people didn't hesitate to treat this day as if it was their last.
Kiera was the same way, but she also chose to remain vigilant at all times, and she wasn't alone in this matter. Grogmar and the Shor's Guard stood watch along the walls. Housecarls lingered near their Jarls. Even men like Ulfric Stormcloak drank sparingly.
At some point, the center longtables were moved aside as Filnjar bid in the circus troupe to perform. They were the ones that had come into the city in the past few days, performing all over the city in hopes of getting the attention to perform at the wedding.
They did, as Filnjar had seen their performance personally and bid them worthy for patronage.
Acrobatics and performances had the hall alive in jubilation. Some of them were even mages, using magic in tandem to create dazzling displays. Kiera enjoyed the performance, though there was something about it that tickled her senses.
Whatever it was was forgotten as Gerron and Serana shared their first dance. Slow and gentle music echoed in the hall from the bards as they took to the floor.
Kiera watched as they moved together—perfectly in sync, as though they had always known this moment would come.
Then the tempo shifted as the bards began a rendition of the Breaker of Iron, and the hall erupted once more.
Kiera was pulled into the dance soon after. With Jarls, warriors, and even the Emperor himself. She laughed, spun, moved effortlessly between partners—until, at last she found herself dancing with Gerron.
She met his grin with one of her own, spinning once before deftly passing him off back to his wife.
The look that they shared with one another was one filled with love, and gods was Kiera happy for them.
Around her, the hall roared with life. Music and laughter filled the air as for one fleeting, perfect moment, the world wasn't ending.
And the celebrations carried on.
…
AN: Gerron and Serana are officially husband and wife!
Writing down the whole ceremony part was difficult since the canon game wedding literally only had conversations to go off of, so I hope you guys don't mind that I took some heavy modern inspiration of walking down the aisle and the kiss to cement their wedding.
12 advanced chapters are available on my P-word. Chapter 128 should be available by the time this chapter is posted. Just look up my name, TeemVizzle, and you'll find me.
For free users, you can get 2 chapters ahead instead if you're interested, just sign up and you can get other first chapters for free for a few of those fics (Game of Thrones, Young Justice, and One Piece).
Cheers!