Hey guys! Very exited to post this fic, as I need to sort my thoughts on my character's history in ESO so I hope you enjoy and if you know icelandic as well as english, feel free to correct my grammar in the spell down below and if you don't speak it, use a translator, it should make you "lol"
"Going out for a swim?" Aronloss asked? "Pfft… No!" Minervia answered as she shoved her swim clothes in her bag. "So you plan to dance around in your swim clothes, then." Minervia rolls her eyes. It's just like her brother to joke about this sort of thing.
"I happen to be going to a meeting with one of King Hidellith representatives."
"So you decided to wear a bathing suit to it?"
"Go cast a fire spell on a nymph or something."
"You're nice." Aronloss states sarcastically.
"I know."
Minervia bit her lip and began to head towards to door. On her way out, she picked up a stick and began to carve away at it with her knife. Her father always said that weapons were for savages and true power was in knowledge. Doesn't mean it hurts to be prepared. She thought to herself, as she was a Bosmer, and Bosmers are said to be born with a bow in their hands. Sadly, not literally for Minervia. It would have been much more painful for her mother.
"I'm here!" She called out has she bounded up to her father who was waiting at the door. "Tardy! You mustn't upset the King, or his servants; they will bring a bad reputation to us all. Drop that wretched stick! Come, they are waiting for us." Apparently Vanafir is having another anxiety attack. This should be interesting.
"Sorry, father, it won't happen again." Minervia lied her signature lie and hid the shaved stick in a bush. She turned to face her father as he beckoned her inside.
The meeting was long, boring, full of schmoozing and sucking up, the only things anyone in her family was good at. It had little point, other than to make Minervia want to take an arrow to the face. The worst part was that Minervia had to be her father's daughter, which meant being polite, courteous, and charming; an act she had spent her whole life on perfecting.
"By the eight, I hope we never have to do THAT again."
"Stop complaining child, you have a far better future than those tree-dwelling savages. They will not last the week, yet you shall inherit the entire family's wealth and shall be head of the clan. The savages would be lucky to clean our sewage system, assuming that the Eight show the mercy they do not deserve by letting them live."
"Of course, father." Minervia states in her monotone voice. It's better to agree with him then argue. No one offends her father. Everyone knows what happened to the last person who did. He mysteriously ended up with a pike through is gut. Officials said it was rogue Khajiit warriors, but nobody truly believes that. One could say that Minervia's father was an incredibly wealthy organized mob boss that is publicly a goody-goody, ethnocentric, snob.
Aronloss was often the one spreading the rumors and pulling pranks on the neighbors. He constantly provoked Minervia's father and downsized him behind his back with little respect for him. Vanafir couldn't lift a finger as long as Aronloss was officially recognized as his son due to that everyone would know it was him, and Aronloss was one of the few nobles that commoners liked.
"What are you starring at, child?" Vanafir asks Mineriva.
"Nothing. I was daydreaming." She breathes, eyes glazed over.
"Stop it. You look like you've just eaten moonsugar."
"Sorry." Minervia lied again. "I heard that there may be some traveling merchants in town, may I go and see what they have in stock?"
"Why don't you get a servant to do it?" Her father grumbled. "A servant doesn't have as keen a eye as I do for valuables. He will buy the first thing he sees, whereas I will buy something that I can make a profit from-"
"Fine. Be back by dusk. You can't wander the streets alone after dark, it's not safe."
Minervia gives him a short, quick nod and waits until her father is out of sight, then races towards the docks. She ducks underneath them and pulls on her swim clothes. Her heart pound in her chest as she shoves her clothes in her leather pouch, tucking it under a boat. I have to hurry. I have to hurry. She whispers to herself as she dives into the ocean. The warm water ripples around her while she breaststrokes farther out to sea.
Finally, she is out of sight. Relief fills her mind as she delves into the water, for no specific reason. She opens her eyes, bubbles tickler her face as they rose from her nose. Her red hair swirled around her head.
Hair.
By the Eight, how could she be so stupid?
Her family would see her wet hair and know she didn't go to the market.
Unless…
Unless it rained. Of course she couldn't just make it rain, no but without a doubt a powerful mage could. So she would have to go to the market place after all. But first…
She plunged deeper into the clear, blue water and drifted for a little bit, watching the sun shine through the sea. She wanted to live in this moment forever, the quietness, the freedom. She wanted to not be told what to do and when to do it. More than anything, she wanted her entire family to drop dead. They were nothing but disgusting, corrupt, rich assholes. It killed her to be related to them. Aronloss wasn't so bad, but still, she had a pretty messed up family.
Her feet dragged while her shoes squished with each step as she trudged up to the Mage's Guild hall.
"Can I help you, my dear?" A towering Altmer asked. (Almer or High Elves were the leaders of the Thalmor Dominion. The were a tall race, averaging to be about 6'5', while their close allies the Bosmer, or Wood Elves hardly went past 5 feet. It was quite amusing to seem them close together.) Minervia stared up him, startled. His eyes were a dark blue-green and his skin was a pale, yellow green. He was abnormally tall for an Altmer, probably around 7 feet.
"Yes, I am looking for a mage who can make it rain?" The gangly Altmer gave her an odd look. "Make it rain?" A grin began to form on his face. "Yes, make it rain. Unless of course the all knowing Altmer, leaders of the Dominion, and by far the best mages Nirn has to offer, cannot perform the simple task of controlling the precipitation." (Nirn is the planet/world in which this story takes place) She sneered. She knew how to manipulate the High Elves. It was incredibly easy once you know how, just simply question their pride, make them doubt themselves. Not necessarily boast, put point out their flaws and insecurities.
"Of course we can make it rain, it's just and odd request." Minervia's eye twitched. "No, what's odd is that you are questioning the will of Vanafir." The turquoise eyes of the mage widened. "Y-You work for Vanafir?!" He stuttered. Minervia scoffed. "No, I'm his daughter and I demand you either make it rain or find a mage for me that can." The Altmer's jaw dropped in trepidation. "Of course." He breathed as his feet plodded though the halls and into the courtyard as if he were in a trance.
"You might want to step back…" He warned as he pulled a book from his back.
"þú verður að gera það fokking rigning, tík!"
"þú verður að gera það fokking rigning, tík!"
"Ég sagði fokkíng rigna!"
The Almtmer chanted, over, and over again, each time the clouds darkened. Lightning began to flash at the last chant.
"It's done." He whisped. In that exact moment, a single raindrop plopped on Minervia's face. She stared at him in disbelief. "That's it? That the best you can do? No wonder the Nords beat you people to a-" Suddenly it began to pour rain as if someone flipped a switch. Lightning flashed overhead as thunder rumbled in the sky.
"You were saying?"
"Go shove that book up your ass, I said rain, not freaking lightning! I could get electrocuted!" Minervia bellowed over the thunder as turned on heel.
Now she was to be late, with nothing to show for going to the marketplace. She groaned and picked up a stick. Maybe there was a quick and easy way to getting something valuable. She thought to herself as she glanced a Bosmer getting inside a cart full of goods. She chuckled to herself. She always wanted to play the savage.