We've been through so much together, you and I. From the very beginning, I’ve watched over you—sometimes in silence, sometimes by your side, always with love burning quietly, deeply, within me. Every laugh we’ve shared, every tear you’ve let fall into my shoulder, every quiet night in our little home in Riften—I've treasured it all. You've become my purpose, my anchor, my heart.

But even as we made that life together in the crooked wooden walls of that city, part of me longed to give you something more. Not out of pride, but out of love. I dreamed of a place just for us, far away from prying eyes and busy streets—a sanctuary cradled by the whispering trees, where time would slow and we could simply be... together. So I began building it.

Northwest of Falkreath, near the tranquil waters of Lake Ilinalta, I found the perfect spot. Quiet. Serene. Untouched. That’s where I knew our new story should begin.

I wasn’t alone in the work. Inigo—my dearest friend and most loyal companion—was with me from the very first swing of the axe. That talkative, blue-furred Khajiit never once complained. Rain soaked us through more times than I could count. The sun burned our backs, and our hands blistered and bled as we worked the wood and stone. But we didn’t stop. Not once. Because I had a dream—and he believed in it too.

Weeks bled into months. Each nail driven, each log lifted, each wall raised—I did it all with your smile in mind. I thought of the way your eyes light up at the simple joys. I thought of your laughter echoing off those pine-covered hills. I thought of you sleeping peacefully, safely, under our roof. And I kept building.

Then came the day it was finished. I clapped Inigo on the back, my throat thick with emotion, and said:

“We did it. This will lift her heart, I know it. But I couldn’t have done it without you, my friend.”

And now… here we are.

I can still feel your fingers in mine as we walk the last steps of the path, the scent of pine and fresh earth thick in the air. Our carriage waits behind us from the long ride. I squeeze your hand.

When we arrive at our destination you gasp. And there it is. Our home.

Nestled by the water, wrapped in the emerald arms of the forest. Smoke curls lazily from the chimney, flowers bloom around the doorstep, and the sound of the lake laps gently in the distance. I turn to you, my voice tender:

“Our new home. Come, my love. Let me show you.”