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Chapter Text

"What news do you have for me?" The commander's words were as firm yet disinterested as ever.
"I've taken care of that oaf, Thongvor."
"Tumultuous Nord. He has only himself to blame by refusing to recognise his heresy. Skyrim is one step closer to peace without men like him. Well done, you have further proven your service to us. Here is your usual payment, as agreed upon." He handed me a decently sized coin purse, stuffed with roughly 500 septims. "Should you hear any other whispers of Talos worship, you know where to find me." The dark-clad elf seemingly only looked me in the eye whilst talking when deemed absolutely necessary, otherwise he'd keep his attention locked on whatever he was preoccupied with. He was a very ambiguous Justiciar. One moment you could be lost in his kind greetings, fooling yourself that there was perhaps a modicum of endearment or even affection, the next you'd be snapped out of it with his cold and distant demeanour. I still remembered his words from one of our previous encounters, "Don't presume upon our friendship. My first loyalty is to the Thalmor, as you well know." It was already obvious, but that hammered in where his priorities lay.

I turned to take my leave however I was quickly stopped in my tracks as his voice piped up again. "I've been impressed with your performance as of late. Markarth shall be a cleansed, orderly city with your assistance. You continue to be of interest to the Thalmor, thus you can expect we shall keep a close eye on your progress." Those last words verged on being a threat. Of course, any commoner would not appreciate being monitored by Thalmor agents. I, on the other hand, welcomed it. Even I couldn't explain my fascination with the sinister Altmer. There was just an alluring quality that outweighed any degrading remarks they'd hiss.
"Thank you." I bowed my head to be polite. Second time around and I exited the Keep without any hindrances. I didn't need to look back to know that Ondolemar would resume his patrols. He was a Mer of conviction and discipline. No matter how mind numbing it seemed to pace back and forth all day, every day, he stuck to his duties. It was imperative that he remained within an influential proximity of the Jarl.

I retired to the Silver-Blood Inn. Whilst approaching the bar, Kleppr had some choice words to address me.
"Ah, you again. Finished running errands for that knife-ear?" I simply took a seat, keeping my head down, and huffed the word,
"Mead." The barkeep started fixing up my drink whilst I simultaneously placed the appropriate amount of gold on the counter. After our exchange of goods, he spoke more as I sipped from the tankard.
"I must admit, you've done me a favour getting rid of those damned Silver-Bloods. Now I can actually keep more of the profits, what little there is. No doubt my dear Frabbi will have a change of heart hearing about this." His tone carried the same obvious sarcasm it always did whenever describing his wife lovingly. There seemed to be no shame in displaying just how much of a shambles their relationship was. That went for the both of them. Frabbi had a sharp tongue and could very easily be found spitting venomous words right in front of patrons. The destitute and dejected denizens of Markarth never batted an eye. Riften and maybe few others like Windhelm or Winterhold were the only other contenders for the most miserable and corrupt capitals of the nine Holds.

I reluctantly swallowed the last of my beverage. It would have been sweet were it not for all the drinks being watered down to compensate for the lack of business. As loathsome as the Black-Briars were, at least they had high quality mead. I wasn't quite sure how it weighed up to Honningbrew though. Without a word, I stood up and left the dingy establishment. I strode through the streets, passing the very same marketplace where I witnessed a woman lose her life. My horse awaited me by the stables, outside the city walls. She was a very robust steed. I clambered onto her back and broke out into a canter. I had a long journey ahead of me. If all went well and there were no stops or breaks, I could make it to Falkreath in roughly five hours. It would take up a good chunk of the day but at least it was manageable.

The sky transitioned through a myriad of colours, from a dull grey, to a soft blue, to a fiery orange, as the sun set. Eventually Lakeview Manor came into view. Home. My own little slice of paradise tucked away amongst the trees. Building it wasn't exactly enjoyable but the final result was worth the effort. Each room was tailored to my needs and decorated how I liked. Additionally, it was far more spacious than my tiny little lodging of Breezehome. I dismounted my mare and kept her safe in my own stable before heading inside. It may not have been the most eventful day I'd ever experienced but it was draining nonetheless. I was more than ready to throw myself into bed. I only kicked off my boots by the bedside and laid on top of the covers. It didn't take long before I drifted off into a deep slumber.

Thankfully my rest was undisturbed. I awoke feeling refreshed. Although it took me a while before I actually sat up and stretched. I swung my legs round and got out of bed, slipping back into my conveniently placed footwear. I took my time going downstairs and had a light breakfast at the dining table. Once I felt ready for the new day, I stepped outside. The chilly morning air brushed my skin. It felt invigorating to breathe. I made my way up a small nearby mound to chop some firewood for later. Being physically active helped keep me warm in the absence of a fire.

A few minutes in and I found myself being hailed by someone. A young Imperial jogged up to me.
"I've been looking for you. Got something I'm supposed to deliver - your hands only. Let's see here..." He rummaged around in a knapsack before pulling out a folded paper. "Got a letter here for you from one of those Justiciars. Scary fellow... Looks like that's it. Got to go." He disappeared as quickly as he arrived. The note had a red wax seal with an intricate regalia stamped into it depicting a very familiar bird. I opened up the letter and read its contents. I was being requested to return to Markarth already on behalf of Ondolemar himself. That poor courier must have travelled throughout the night to deliver this to me. I figured it must have been important if it was such short notice. Unfortunately the specific reasoning for my summons was left vague. Begrudgingly, I saddled up once more and rode back to the City of Stone.

I wasted no time making a beeline for Understone Keep, pushing the hefty Dwemer doors open, passing the Hall of the Dead. When I reached the top of the steps I found myself looking around in confusion. The Jarl was still in his throne accompanied by his Housecarl, the guards were stationed as they should be, even the dogs were laying in their normal spot. Only the Thalmor patrol were noticeably absent. Where in Oblivion was Ondolemar and his foot soldiers? He would never forgo his obligations. I asked one of the guards who suggested I try the side rooms, specifically Legate Emmanuel Admand's quarters.

Lo and behold, the two Elven troops that normally followed him were stood blocking the door.
"Walk away, if you know what's good for you." One of them ordered.
"I'm here on official business with your leader." I held up the letter so they could see the evidence for themselves. The soldier that barked at me paused as his harsh eyes scanned the note, line by line.
"It appears I am mistaken. You may enter but be warned, if you try anything remotely suspect, you will no longer draw breath." They stepped aside in synchronisation allowing me through. Finally I laid my eyes on the Mer of the hour. He was sat in a wooden chair that frankly seemed too small for him. He turned his head to distinguish whomever intruded upon him. After realising it was me, his sneer swiftly faded. Instead, it was replaced by a muted look of surprise. It seemed as if he wasn't expecting me despite his correspondence. He promptly got out of his seat as I closed the distance between us. Being an Altmer, he easily towered over me. His shadowy, hooded silhouette and piercing glare would be imposing to anyone.

"You needed me?" I broke the silence.
"An obtuse observation." He retorted. The Thalmor were questionably skilled in discrediting their rivals. "Do not imply that your value is any higher than the rest of your kin. I am not reliant on you, human. You simply happen to be in good standing with the ruling body of the Aldmeri Dominion. You'd be wise to make the most of it."
"So why did you call me here?" Glossing over his lecture certainly irked him to some degree.
"Straight to the point I see. While your refusal to engage in idle chatter is commendable, I'm afraid I have some questions for you. I trust you will cooperate on this matter." Again his tone shifted to carry subtle threat. I knew then it was merely an illusion of choice. To protest against the Thalmor was to be sentenced to death.

I remained silent, awaiting his next move. He hid his arms behind his back in a formal posture and looked down his nose at me. His lips were slightly pursed and his chartreuse eyes squinted with contempt.
"Looks can be deceiving, wouldn't you agree?" I tried my hardest to brave his assaulting gaze but internally I could feel myself crumbling and wanting to look away.
"What is this about?"
"I'll be the one making inquiries." He hastily interjected. "Now, do not waste my time and I can assure you you will walk freely." He started to pace and circle like a vulture, picking me for information. "I assume you're aware of the dragons returning. Have you come face to face with one?" Hesitantly I answered,
"Yes..."
"Then I'm sure you also know it is next to impossible to fell one of these legendary beasts." He glanced at me with a distrustful side-eye during the brief respite. "It has come to our attention that another tale the Nords revere tells of an individual who possesses the ability to not only slay dragons, but absorb their very essence. This... Person of interest would make integral research." I swallowed. The pressure was rising.

While my mind raced, I suddenly found he whipped around to face me once more. He snatched my jaw between his thumb and two forefingers, forcing me to look up at him. His grip squished my cheeks, almost painfully. "Listen well, Dragonborn, you may be able to slip past the grunts but you won't fool me. As an officer of the Aldmeri Dominion, I am bound by my oath to serve in its interests. I won't allow anyone to stand in the way of Tamriel's inevitable future. Do I make myself clear?" His face hovered exceptionally close to mine. Whilst his scornful expression was unwavering, I couldn't help but think that some part of him revelled in my fear. I could almost feel his breath on my face. He refused to move an inch and yet despite how terrifying the situation was, I didn't want him to. As I fumbled to pull myself together just enough to reply, my eyes kept darting between his features. I'd alternate between each of his angular eyes, down the bridge of his aquiline nose and end with his full lips. Taking the time to notice, it appeared as though he wore some degree of eyeliner. I found that sentiment to be rather cute. His self proclamation of being a superiorly bred Mer seemed to hold up. It was hard to deny that he was handsome regardless of his faction and beliefs. Additionally, the sharp, black hood he wore didn't really mask or detract from his chiselled traits.

"I understand" I finally mustered up. Yet again his expression hardly changed but there was an air that suggested he was pleased with my response; his gloved clutch lessened.
"Good." Another wave of silence washed over us as he peered at me through heavy lids. Not another word was uttered during the moment. I felt myself getting further lost in his eyes and he strangely seemed to be reciprocating. I could swear that he leaned ever so slightly nearer. He was so tantalisingly close. Eager anticipation consumed me. My mouth fell partially agape, under the subconscious assumption I'd feel his. Time crawled at an agonising pace during our unorthodox tension.

Chapter Text

Before even having the time to properly register everything, he swiftly reverted back to his upstanding position as the soldiers from earlier barged in. The commander appeared refined and unmoving, as though none of the prior events ever took place. I started to doubt myself – had I read too much into his actions? Was I merely seeing what I secretly desired?
“Speak quickly.” Ondolemar sounded unimpressed. Maybe I wasn’t so lost in fantasy after all, or he was just his usual agitated self.
“Legate Admand requires your attendance to discuss… matters of security.” The designated spokesman hesitated to detail the situation, glancing over at me. I was well aware my presence was the issue, no thanks to his subtlety.
“Very well, I shall address his concerns. Let us convene here immediately.” Ondolemar didn’t look back my way again. It was like he didn’t want to acknowledge that I existed. I took that as my cue to leave. Part of me was rightfully relieved to be free of that state of affairs, considering how quickly it could have soured.

Days had gone by and I hadn’t heard any more from the commander since our last entanglement. There were no follow ups in regards to my unique abilities as he discovered, nor further orders for me to fulfil. Of course there wasn’t always work to be done, or at least not intended for me, but it still struck me as odd. It only seemed logical that this silent period was due to what happened back in the Keep. I guess I wasn’t the only one feeling awkward about it after all. Although having worked under the Thalmor for a decent while, I was more informed of their practices than most. Suffice to say, the people of Skyrim were right to be suspicious. Not every rumour they spread was entirely false. Thus it occurred to me that perhaps this hiatus had a more nefarious motive. Decidedly, it would be best to be more conscious about my actions going forward. Having free time didn’t need to be miserable because of this however. I was perfectly content with just being able to stay home, if anything it was a welcome respite. I even managed to add some extra decorations and furnishings to really top it off and make it my own. I preferred outsourcing any animal products used for mounts and such because I couldn’t bring myself to slaughter them personally. Overall it seemed more efficient to me to salvage carcasses I stumbled across during my travels or to purchase hides and other bits from stores I already found myself at. As for more menial materials, I delegated all that work to my Steward. Why have one if I wasn’t going to use them?

This serene chapter of my life continued for the better part of a week or so until a familiar face tracked me down again – the Imperial courier from before passed me another letter. To my surprise I was not being called to return to Markarth nor was Ondolemar’s signature present. Instead, Lady Elenwen herself encouraged me that my assistance was needed at the College of Winterhold. That was on the other side of the province but I’d be a fool to turn down direct orders from her. Trying to climb the ladder without the advantage of being a pure bred Mer was bad enough, I didn’t need to utterly besmirch my name while I was at it. Besides, any form of rebellion was met with a swift end, Altmer or not. I simply had no choice but to make my way to the decimated city.

The expedition was far from pleasant, snow as far as the eye could see and more mountains than sensible paths. It was an understatement to say I couldn’t wait until all this was behind me and I was back in more agreeable territory. Everything looked the same, it was all so terribly dreary. Wasting no more time, I passed the Jarl’s Longhouse, The Frozen Hearth, and a few other tacky buildings that could easily be mistaken for one another. Finally the College was in my line of sight. I proceeded to cross the bridge when I was instantaneously halted. “Cross the bridge at your own peril! The way is dangerous, and the gate will not open. You shall not gain entry!”
“My presence was specifically requested here.” I cut straight to the point, my voice as lifeless as the city. I was in no mood for theatrics. The Altmer guarding the way looked me up and down, likely taking note of my robes, and knowing precisely what I was referring to. The College was a close-knit community from what I understood and so it was only reasonable word would spread quickly across their grounds.
“Very well, please, follow me.” As we made our way to the main site of the College, pillars strewn across the bridge beamed deep blue lights towards the sky. I could sense curious energies radiating from them. Once we entered the gateway to the courtyard it was there I saw the contact I was to aid.
“I believe I made myself rather clear.”
“Yes, of course. I'm simply trying to understand the reasoning behind the decision.”
“You may be used to the Empire bowing to your every whim, but you will find the Thalmor find no such treatment here. You are here at the pleasure of the Arch-Mage. I hope you appreciate the opportunity.”
“Yes, of course. The Arch-Mage has my thanks.”
“Very good. Then we're done here.” The Breton with short, brown hair left and my target disappeared inside the Hall of Elements. I pursued him except he hadn’t got very far. He was merely pacing back and forth. Now felt like the most appropriate opportunity to approach him.
“I'm disappointed to say I've learned little during my time here.” He scoffed.
“I suspect that’s why I’ve been sent here.”
“If it were up to me, I’d continue handling this on my own.”
“What was that conversation about?”
“Hm? Oh you heard that did you? We were simply having a... discussion about my level of access to the College.”
“Is there a problem?”
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with. I am quite capable of observing everything that goes on here.”
“Elenwen seems to think otherwise.”
“I’m sure whatever reports you’ve received have been greatly exaggerated.”
“So you distrust your fellow colleagues?”
“That’s rich coming from a lesser race such as yourself. You’d be wise not to presume.” For someone that was meant to be my ally he was extremely combative. A clearer picture was being painted as to why he seemed to be struggling here.
“Does the Arch-Mage often ask for advice?”
“Perhaps not as often as he should. In time, I believe he will be more trusting.” No wonder nothing was getting done. He was shaping up to be the worst candidate to establish relations. The Dwemer were less reclusive than him for Gods’ sakes. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the mages were happier to talk to a dragon.
“I see...” I lowered my voice, “Do you have somewhere private we could further discuss these matters?”
“Ah yes, you haven’t seen the state of my quarters. Come with me.” I followed him back out of the Hall of Elements and to the Hall of Attainment.