I feel like there just isn't enough love for some of the elves. Especially Thalmor, and usually, I don't like them, but there was always Ondolemar. The one attractive Thalmor Justiciar. Anyways, in appreciation to the one Altmer I like (Even if he is snobbish sometimes) I am writing this.

I'm not exactly sure how frequently I can update, but hopefully it's not going to take forever. This story will probably switch from third person focusing Ondolemar to first person of my OC.

I'm hoping you all enjoy this.


The musty halls of Understone Keep were not inviting to anyone, and to imagine anyone ever enjoying to live in this kind of city was unthinkable to the Mer. Such a grotisque way of living... Then again, this should be expected of people who believe in false Gods.

Ondolemar strode confidently through the halls, his soldiers close behind him. His long legs covered much more ground than those of man or even other elven races. He was superior not only in grace, but also wit. For no man was smarter than some of the dullest mer, for they had much more experience on this world than the lowly Nords, or any race of man.

He sighed as he stopped, looking at the old, stone walls of the Keep. No mer should have to live in places like this. This was not the kind of place he'd ever want to live. Not in a million lifetimes.

And what's worse? He'd not met any other elf besides Aicantar and Calcelmo, the two conjurers who work in Understone Keep. And although the presence of other Mer is comforting, they are hardly very good company.

His soldiers were relatively okay to talk to, but he knew deep down they were jealous of his rank, his power. So he had no true company in the wretched hole of a city.

He didn't really have much to do either. It's not like he had to fight off hundreds of Stormcloaks (Which almost excited him) or actually reveal how powerful a Thalmor Justiciar is. All he had to do was advise the Jarl to keep the interests of the Thalmor well in mind, and root out the occasional heretic.

But in all reality, he was pacing back and forth in a dusty hallway, in a rank Keep, in a wretched town made of stone, doing absolutely nothing. It was dreadfully boring, he concluded.

But was there really anything else to do? He pondered these thoughts when the sound of the large doors opening and closing came to his ears. He paid no mind to it, as people came in and out all day. It was the low whistle of his male soldier and the swat to the back of the head from his female soldier to his other soldier that caused him to turn and look.

He didn't know what exactly he'd been hoping for, but he'd been disappointed, as it was only a Nord woman with very voluptuous curves. But something caught his eye. Behind the Nord was something moving very cautiously through the keep, making its way towards the exit.

Curiously and with great caution, he watched it slip towards Calcelmo's lab. "Hmm." He followed after it, wondering if it was some thief causing trouble. Maybe even a heretic. He slipped around the corner, catching a glimpse of the hooded figure before it entered Calcelmo's lab.

He slowly walked in after it, seeing it walk over to the table. It seemed to look around for anyone, to which Ondolemar hid carefully around the corner. He peeked at the hooded person. He slowly slipped towards it.

He saw the person visibly tense and call out while turning around "I know you're there. Show yourself."

The voice was rich, smooth like wine and soft. A female. Ondolemar slowly revealed himself. The person seemed to relax slightly, saying "Oh, you're that Thalmor adviser."

He frowned at the person's lack of respect. He replied "I see you're as crude as any Nord around here. Who are you?"

"Is it really any of your business?" She asked with obvious distrust.

Ondolemar quickly responded "Depends. I could have you locked up for heresy. I'm making it my business to know everything about this wretched town, and that includes you."

Her face was cloaked in shadow, hiding her from view. She sighed, saying with obvious tiredness "Please leave me be. I'm just here to speak with Calcelmo, and I'll be on my way. I'm not some heretic."

"Hmm. I don't believe you." He responded, taking a step towards her. He saw the magic spring to her fingers in warning, and she quickly said "I don't mean any trouble. Just leave me be."

Ondolemar was growing tired of this. "Tell me your name then, and reveal your face. If you do so, I will go back to my business."

She sighed, her magic draining from her fingers and she reached up for her hood. She was about to push it down when Calcelmo's voice called out with obvious excitement "Vallisara? Is that you?! I thought you were in High Rock? Oh my, you've grown so much!" He hurried over to her, and Ondolemar watched with interest at the exchange.

"Hello Calcelmo. I got your letter a few weeks back. Decided I come visit for a little while. How's Aicantar?" She asked quietly, her eyes looking towards Ondolemar in wariness.

Calcelmo didn't even acknowledge the Justiciar's presence as he said "Oh Aicantar is doing good. He's helpful sometimes, even if he is a little too sure of himself. But nevermind him. It's so nice to see you, Vallisara." He paused, finally noticing the hood. "Well, it'd be nice to see you without the hood covering your face."

She sighed and with another look towards Ondolemar, she shoved back her hood. The lightest of blonde hair one could find was revealed, as was pale golden skin, soft and glowing. Bright gold eyes burned like the flames from a dragon's voice. Dark eyelashes lined the fiery eyes, which led to high, regal-looking cheekbones and a thin jaw. Vallisara glanced at him, her eyes burning brightly.

Ondolemar's eyebrows raised. Now this, is an interesting turn of events.


Well, that's that. I don't know if he's out of character or not, but hopefully you like it. Sadly a very short chapter, but they will probably lengthen as the plot thickens.

Leave a review please, I always enjoy constructive criticism. See you in the next chapter!

Bye! :D