Okay, keep in mind that this my first story, and be gentle. It won't be continued unless I have a burst of inspiration, so keep that in mind. Please tell me if I got any names wrong, and PLEASE tell me if Win'ael is at all Mary Sue-ish. I don't own Oblivion or any of the characters other than Win'ael and Gael.
The ice… the ice is everywhere… where is Gael… where is his fire…? That thing… why isn't it dead? I guess a better… would be… why am I not dead? The cold… ice…must have killed me.
So it seemed I was dying. Fading in and out of this world, perhaps? No, I was fading from this world to my own. My mind ensnared me and my body fought to escape. I was a bystander to the entire thing, never interfering with the battle. I didn't fall into unconsciousness willingly, nor did I wake up willingly.
I awoke though, finally. Gael hadn't moved me far. The magicians had stepped in after he discovered the tears. S'drassa wanted them, and Gael had offered to get them. Arch-Mage Traven had heard the story of Garriden and had Quill-Weave study Knightfall more, and she found that there was a slightly different way to translate it. Instead of dying and his body forever being locked into a fight, the literal translation could just mean frozen.
It meant that Garriden could be alive. Although alive, and due to the many years passing, no one knew if he could be revived to a point he could function. Plus, they couldn't be sure that what he was fighting wouldn't finish us all after setting it loose.
"Win, I want to do this. I need your help though! I don't have a good weapon, but I know you do." Gael had begged. I had collected a lot over the years. An enchanted glass helmet, a shortsword with fire enchantments, they were my protection. Only an acquaintance with most guilds, my alliances rarely stretched beyond the docks of the Waterfront. Gael is an exception.
"No. I'm not a mage; I don't want to go to some cave." I replied, but then added, "I don't like going headfirst into a cave filled with monsters off all kinds."
"Then walk backwards."
"Touché." And then Traven walked in. It was no surprise really, we were in the Archives. But then…
"Ah! Win'ael… Jamais-Après, was it? Breton names are so fascinating… Anyway it's nice to see someone volunteer for a dangerous mission like this, especially when you aren't part of the guild!"
And then I was in the cave, then marveling at the beauty of the glade, and then it was cold. Gael had my best weapon (the sword), but everything else had stayed behind. I didn't think it would be an atronach.
After Gael dispatched the Frost Atronach, he was able to heal me slightly. Restoration isn't his strong point though, so I pretty much leaned against a tree and watched Gael, now with frost protection, brave the snow to take notes on the atronach that had fallen, collecting some frost salts, and inspect the snow that had piled up in the middle of the glade, all around the large mound of ice.
Finally a mage arrived. I didn't recognize him, but he was definitely an Imperial. Mama always said I should have been a mage… Breton nature… The looks for it… Long fingers made for casting spells…
I drifted off again. Mages kept coming and going, bringing alchemical ingredients from the Deadlands, books written in languages I've never heard of, all I could recognize was scrolls and potions of Frost Shield. Gael had been injured, and finally collapsed when his Restore Stamina potion ran out. We sat and watched the mages surround the ice, Gael pointing out little things.
"Those are fire salts; they're using them with a Dispel Scroll." He said, "That book is the earliest published account of Garriden, the other one is… I don't recognize it, but maybe it's the relationship between atronachs, I see the Alyeid word for fire, molag, and something about a storm."
I listened quietly, still tired after the fight. Then a mage brought in some venison, which greatly helped. The same mage, an Altmer, healed my frostbitten hands and dispelled the frost effects. I thanked him, and he smiled and patted my head, and surprised me by sitting down. That's when I realized Gael had gotten up. They were keeping someone near me… They needed me for something. Although I couldn't help but think the Altmer was trying to help a little. Especially when he began to sing a nice little song that sounded almost Nordic, but I know I heard the word saucepan in it somewhere…
They wanted me to stay there. After I was healed they gave me a box filled with frost shields, each strong enough to last all day and night, and told me to stay on the rock just below Garriden and keep watch. They said there wasn't a mage who could stay all the time, Gael had to deliver the tears to S'drassa and stay with him to help find out the exact properties and alchemical uses the have. So I was simply placed there, watching the mages wander in and out of the glade.
They left me alone most of the time, normally just asking if anything had changed. The Everflow Ewer was studied often, as it remained, though broken, within the ice also.
"Win'ael! Good to see you again! Has Wizard Kud-Ei arrived with those Mugwort Seeds yet?"
"No, she had to stop in Skingrad to get here." I replied looking down at Bothiel, who had arrived to make a detailed map of Frostfire Glade. Mages and their details…
And I sat there. For days I looked on as the mages worked. Then I realized I had never climbed up to look at who they were trying to set free. So I did, and something happened then.
I wanted to be there; right where I stood for the first time. I didn't force myself to stand there. When I looked into Sir Garriden's eyes the ice that had surrounded by suddenly seemed beautiful. It didn't melt, it didn't change, instead I changed and noticed every color it reflected.
So for the next week or so, I found myself sitting next to the ice more and more. When all the mages were gone for a short time, bad scheduling I suppose, I didn't feel alone.
"Hello. How can you breathe in there? Are you cold? Can you hear me? I can't hear you either. I don't even know you. Or perhaps I do." I would say, smiling. One day I accidently spilt a bit of my frost shield potion on my hand. I gently place my palm against the ice when I realized it didn't hurt.
"I like sitting here. I guess it wouldn't be so bad, trapped here for so long…" I looked at his weapon, cast aside, "Was your sword enchanted?" I looked this time at the atronach, "Frost, perhaps? That would explain it." I kept it up for days, knowing he wouldn't answer in this place.
"I like you. I really do." I said. "Perhaps I…" No, not then, but… "I think I love you."
Then came the day when the research was over. It was time to melt the ice. "I only want those who are experts of Restoration and Destruction here!" Master-Wizard Jarol had said. So I waited at the University with Gael, who was now ranked Evoker. They were going to melt the ice around Garriden, then heal what they could before melting the rest of the ice and destroying the Frost Atronach. Garriden might have to take some of the final hit, but the mages would get him out.
After a long daze and plenty of time spent wasted on waiting, which I suppose lasted only a few days, news came. Garriden was alive, and they were all coming back to the University. The courier was unable to travel much faster, so they would arrive soon.
I don't think I did anything after that. I must've eaten, and I know I went home, but I can't remember. I don't care enough to remember.
Then he was finally there. Light hair, green eyes, strong build, definitely Imperial. He caught my gaze, and turned his head to one side slightly. "He's still getting used to things. We'll be informing him of all recorded history between his battle and today. Until then, he will remain in the University" Traven had said. He spoke to those of us who assisted in reviving him. "Miss Jamais-Après, as the one to spend the most time in the glade, you will show him the city. I don't want mages to do it; he's seen enough of mages for a time."
He didn't talk much. In fact, he barely commented on anything. He just watched, and occasionally would get a look in his eye where he was somewhere else.
"Have I seen you…?" He asked one, as we passed the palace.
"No. I was not alive during your time." I replied, looking away to nod to a guard.
"My time…" He said, and I learned not to phrase things quite like that.
"Please show respect for the Imperial Palace by keeping your voice down" A guard stopped and said as we passed. I nodded and continued.
"Do they always do that?" He asked, with a puzzled look.
"Yes, just keep walking and they normally don't care. Or stand really still; some are so tired they won't care enough to see you." I want to think he smiled a little bit.
When we got around to the Waterfront, I took him to my home to rest and have a snack. He looked very unimpressed after seeing the beauty of the inner city. I gave him some bread and cheese, and we sat at the table in silence.
"I guess that's it. You'll be staying at the University for now, until…" I broke off, not really knowing when he could live on his own.
"I don't know what they will do. I know they want to know about the Ewer, and how well I remember everything. I keep thinking that a week ago, I said goodbye to Farmantle Glens; that I will look up to see my servant standing there, a pen in his hand, always writing."
"We all have a past, yours is just a little…jumbled." I tried, not knowing how to help. I cared about him, yet didn't know him. I wanted us to one day sit on the docks together on a warm summer's twilight. As silly as it sounds, that's what I wanted, and for some reason, thought he might too. Maybe I had a moment when you just know something, at least for a long time that's what I hoped.
He looked me in the eye, "And what of your past? What is it that has shaped you?" I took me by surprise. My travels were my past… Finding Fin Gleam, my Shortsword of Burning, the time I helped those twins… no those things wouldn't make a person. It's not a point in history, I don't say "That was before I found Fin Gleam," or "That was after I visited Hircine's Shrine." What thing have I done to have a history?
I leaned over and put my arm around him; he didn't resist, but actually leaned into it a bit.
"I found you."
