Even in the keep, the air was thick and hot, rich with the metallic tang of the silver smelters. Kiera looked down at Alea, eyes gleaming in the shadow of her ever-present hood. "Stay in the keep, little sister," she said in a deceptively mild voice. Alea blinked up at her, distracted from her scrutiny of the intricate Dwemer architecture, and nodded. Kiera patted her head and strode off, blending effortlessly into the crowd that milled around Understone Keep.
Alea sighed and wandered off to find a quiet corner. The Divines only knew what Kiera was doing or how long it would take, but she was better off not knowing. A guard frowned at her, arms crossed over his dark green cuirass. She stuck her tongue out at him, remembering too late that she wasn't wearing her mask and he could see her. Whoops. She averted her eyes and sped past him.
The young Dragonborn would have much preferred to be wearing her mage robes and Dragon Priest mask, but Kiera said they were going incognito, so she was dressed like a normal 12-year-old. Ah, the woes of being little sister to an assassin.
Absently, she wandered into the upper levels, picking her way between half-cleared rubble and scraps of metal. A promising nook, created by a collapsed pillar and a decrepit Dwemer chest, caught her eye. Alea carefully shimmied into the gap, settling in place with a happy hum, and pulled out her book. Now she was free to lose herself in the study of magic for a few hours, until Kiera came and got her—a freedom she took great enjoyment in exercising.
"Child?"
Alea startled badly, nearly hurling her book across the room at the sudden question. An Altmer dressed in Justiciar robes stood in front of her nook and looked down his nose at her, flanked on either side by bored-looking Altmer guards in gleaming golden armor. He narrowed his eyes, his lip curling just slightly in contempt.
A normal child wouldn't have noticed that tiny shift, but Alea was no normal child. Kiera had taught her well when it came to reading expressions. She shuttered her own reflexive contempt beneath a curious mask, doing her best to appear as a harmless and generally unremarkable human child. "Uh, hi?" she said shyly, bringing the book up to shield the lower half of her face.
The mer's eyes flicked to the title of her book and widened slightly in surprise. She knew that "Preparation for Advanced Conjuring Techniques" was hardly a normal book for a child to be reading, but hopefully she could use it as a distraction.
"What are you doing?" he asked after a pause. Alea knew the question he wanted to ask was locked behind his teeth.
"Reading," she said, knowing full well just how much adults hated that response.
The mer barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "Yes," he said with just a touch of impatience, "but what are you doing reading here?"
Alea lowered the book and chewed on her bottom lip, projecting childish worry as strongly as she could. "Am I… am I not allowed to be here?" she asked in a small voice. "I just wanted to find somewhere quiet and there were no doors or guards or anything..."
The guards and the Justiciar all looked intently at her exposed face. Specifically, they stared at the thick, ugly scars running beneath her left eye. Alea wanted to snarl at them, but instead she brought the book back up and curled into a defensive ball.
"No," the mer said thoughtfully, his golden eyes meeting her green again. "Though perhaps it is not so wise to be this close to an unexplored portion of this ruin."
If it had been Leila or Kiera telling her that, she would have laughed. What could possibly have overwhelmed her? A falmer? A spider? Hardly. But of course, this mer was not Leila or Kiera, so Alea didn't laugh. "Oh," she said meekly. "Alright, I'll go find somewhere else."
She closed the book and shimmied back out of the little space, standing and dusting her skirts off. The mer frowned down at her, towering at least three feet above her—stupid tall races. His guards peered at her curiously.
"Where is your mother?" he asked.
Here we go, Alea thought. "Dead," she said succinctly. The Altmers' expressions all softened in the slightest way. Even with training from an expert, Alea barely caught it. "My sister brought me here, and she's off… doing errands or something. I wasn't paying attention."
"Hm. And she was going to come find you?"
"She always finds me."
There was a calculating gleam in the mer's eye, and it set her teeth on edge. "Come with me, then. You can read in my office until she comes for you."
Alea squinted at him and backed up a step, pursing her lips. Her fingers twitched against the cover of the book; she longed for the security of a fireball dancing over her palm. "I'm not supposed to go anywhere with strangers."
One of the guards disguised a laugh with a cough. The mer shot her a withering look before turning his attention back to Alea. Much to her surprise, he knelt gracefully so that they were at eye level.
"Well, my name is Ondolemar," he said. "What's yours?"
Alea hesitated, chewing on the inside of her cheek. How close to the truth did she want to be? If this Thalmor communicated at all with Ancano, he might recognize her name. Perhaps it was a good thing she wasn't wearing her mask after all. That detail, surely, would have been included on any report.
"Ellie," she said finally, offering a shallow curtsey. "A pleasure to meet you, Ondolemar."
The mer, Ondolemar, smiled, and Alea couldn't stop herself from twitching. Divines, that was a strange and unnerving expression to see on a Justiciar.
"There, now we are not strangers," he said, and the little mage nearly snorted out loud. He thought that would work on a normal 12-year-old? Really?
Luckily for him, Alea decided that avoiding trouble was more important than making a speedy getaway. "Um… alright."
"Come along, then." Ondolemar stood and swept forward. Alea followed behind him, meek as a lamb. His guards fell into step on either side of her, and their presences felt far more threatening than reassuring. Don't even try to run, they seemed to say, though she couldn't tell if that was their actual intent or she was simply paranoid.
Her mind raced as they walked, trying to find a good way out of her predicament. If she vanished, she would be memorable; if she stayed, he might piece her identity together. She might win if she fought them, but probably not. For one, he was likely just as skilled as Ancano. For another, he had backup and she wasn't even wearing her robes. Best case scenario, Kiera showed up within the next two minutes and whisked her off. Worst case scenario, Ondolemar figured out she was the Dragonborn and kidnapped her and the Thalmor murdered her for setting fire to their embassy and then Alduin ate the world.
Alright, maybe the last one was a little dramatic, but Alea just felt so vulnerable without her mask and robes.
Unfortunately, Kiera didn't swoop in before they reached Ondolemar's office. Alea half expected to find torture implements hanging on the walls, but the office was actually normal, if a bit small. There were a few tasteful decorations here and there, all Altmer-styled, and two bookshelves full of scrolls and tomes took up the back wall. Ondolemar ushered her in with a gloved hand on her shoulder and closed the door after them, leaving the guards to take up posts outside.
"Come, sit," he said, gesturing to a chair that was thankfully not Dwemer-style stone, but instead elegant and comfortable wood.
Alea sat, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting the book on them. She eyed Ondolemar, expecting some comment or question, but he had already busied himself with paperwork. Relieved, she opened the book and once more lost herself in her studies.
An hour passed, silent but for the scratching of Ondolemar's quill and the quiet rustle of paper.
When the Altmer spoke, it was quiet. "Alea."
"Huh?" The mage glanced up reflexively. The blood drained from her face as she realized her mistake.
"Ah, so I was right." Ondolemar looked satisfied as he leaned back in his chair and eyed her. His expression was strangely sad, though she hardly noticed over the thunderous beating of her heart. "How old are you, child?"
Alea opened and closed her mouth, struggling to find the words that wouldn't get her summarily executed. Did he suspect she was the Dragonborn? Did he know?. "I… I'm…" Her fingers gripped the book so tightly her knuckles turned white. She glanced desperately at the door, contemplating her chances of breaking out and running away.
Ondolemar was up and blocking the exit before she could so much as twitch. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said quietly, his eyes intent upon her pale face.
She didn't believe him, but unless she wanted to fight a well-trained adult mage in close quarters, what could she do?
"...fourteen," she lied, slumping defeatedly against the back of the chair.
Ondolemar snorted and immediately called her bullshit. "No, you're not."
Alea glared and clenched her fists, struggling against the desire to lob a fireball at his smug elven face. "How would you know?" she snapped. "I'm a Breton, I'm naturally short!"
"You're a remarkably good liar for a... thirteen-year-old," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
So he didn't have an official age from Ancano. Good. No one but Kiera knew for certain anyways, and Alea was determined to keep it that way. Still, she had to appear thwarted.
"What do you want," she said, glaring tiredly as she curled into a defensive ball on the chair.
Ondolemar shook his head and relaxed against the door, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched her. "Nothing but the truth, little mage. Now I think the truth is that there's more to you than meets the eye... but even so, I have no ulterior motives. I simply wondered if you were the little prodigy Ancano likes to complain about."
There was a frisson of dislike in his voice when he said Ancano. Good. She could use that to her advantage.
"Ancano's mean," Alea muttered, propping her chin up on her knees. "I don't like him so I don't let him teach me."
Ondolemar threw his head back and laughed, taking her by surprise. "Ah, I understand now," he said. She shot him an inquisitive look, but he shook his head and refused to elaborate. He watched her with amusement and more than a little fascination, as if she were a puzzle he longed to solve.
It made the little mage extremely uncomfortable.
Suddenly, there came a knock, startling both of them. A guard spoke through the door, his tone brusque and disinterested. "Sir, her sister is here."
"That would be your cue, little mage," Ondolemar murmured, glancing at Alea as he opened the door.
Kiera came sweeping in like a woman on a mission, her keen purple eyes missing nothing as they swiftly examined the room and its occupants. She offered Ondolemar an entirely fake smile as she passed him by and went to Alea, who had stood from her seat at the knock. "Ah, thank you for watching my sister, sir," she said blandly, settling a reassuring hand on Alea's shoulder. "I'll be taking her now."
"Of course," the Altmer said with equal blandness, his expression suddenly shuttered and unreadable. "It was no hardship. She is a… delightful child."
Kiera's false smile widened the slightest bit, just enough to hint at her canines; it was an entirely predatory expression. "Come along, darling," she said, taking one of Alea's hands and pulling her from the room. "We have preparations to make."
"Come visit again… Ellie," Ondolemar called after them, a dark undercurrent in his tone. "We would be delighted to have you."
Alea shivered and pressed into the solid warmth of Kiera's side.
If she had her way, she was never coming back to Markarth again.